Sunday, June 07, 2009

129 Miles

I wondered what I was doing. Seriously, I had sworn that after that stupid bitch last year had pushed me around, I was finished with women who weren’t submissive. Yet here I am, driving for hours to see some whore who wouldn’t even let me touch her. I was masturbating to Miss February and realizing that this whore was not quite as young, not quite as hot, but I was still succumbing to her. What the fuck? Yet I’m sick of vapid attractive women who waste my time. Sure, I love the feeling of their pussies on my cock, but before…and after…my god, they’re idiots.

So. This fucking whore. Why am I writing this? She did something to me. I’m driving 129 fucking miles for a whore who won’t fuck me. Just thinking of her makes me semi-hard. Yesterday, at work for god’s sake, I had to take a 3-minute bathroom break after she called just to relieve the cum building up. I can’t resolve how she stimulates my brain, but my cock is what responds most.

But I digress. I’m meeting her, AGAIN, at some weird location. I walk into the room, and I can’t see her. The bartender comes up to me. He’s no match for my brains, but he converses anyway. “She said to take her lead.” Outstretched, the room key says “129.” I get it, I get it, stop trying to be ironic, you fucking whore. But I can’t resist.

I stick the key in the door of the suite. I can pretend I’m so used to this treatment, but the room is amazing. She’s playing music and smoking a cigar (poorly). Oh, fuck, she’s wearing that dress I love. Does this whore know what she is doing to me?

“Hi Jason.”

Her voice is like cream.

“You look fucking stupid, Jason. Fucking stupid. Take off everything- except your boxers. Dammit, leave on your stupid glasses. I can’t stand how you look without them.” Fuck you, whore, I look fine…but I still comply. I hate her control. I hate the contemptuous look she casts at my hard cock under the boxers. Does she like it? Fuck her. My cock is great. I guess.

I can see part of her left breast through her dress. She catches me looking. Something’s different about her today, and I look away, embarrassed. Why won’t such a whore let me touch her? She walks toward me and puts my hand on her barely covered breast. It feels exactly how I imagined; soft, malleable, and full in my hand. Her nipple hardens at my touch. I start to explore her, and the sting of her hand lands on my cheek. What the fuck? Her expression is so confused, full of caring and loathing for me. Maybe I’m the one who’s confused.

She pulls me to her and kisses my mouth, and the connection we’ve always felt reignites. We fall into kissing, then she pulls back. My fucking boxers are a nuisance now, but I know she won’t let me take them off. Oh no, she’s kissing my ear.

“Lie down,” she breathes. I do. She jumps onto me, almost eagerly. Who wouldn’t? I’m attractive, intelligent, oh yeah, and “fucking stupid” tonight. She starts slowly grinding me, feigning sex. You know, I’m growing tired of this cockteasing whore bit of hers. Taking my chin, she pushes my head back into the pillow. Roughly, she pulls off my boxers. Dammit, that hurts! The skin feels raw, like a carpet burn. But I can’t help myself; I’m still rock hard. She’s never seen this awesome cock before and…hey, bitch, don’t smile bemusingly at it! It’s fucking awesome! I think.

I am so fucking hot right now. She’s never taken off my underwear. We might actually fuck for once. She stands over me on the bed and takes her dress off in one move. My eyes are drawn straight to her crotch. It’s covered in this cute white thong that looks almost innocent. I force my eyes to move slowly up her body. She’s wearing this plain white cotton corset strung tightly around her tiny waist. It looks part of a costume for a period movie. Just like her, to wear two things that go together, but aren’t some Frederick’s set. My eyes move up her slowly, and I suck in my breath. It’s not like her other corsets; her breasts are spilling out of the top with her nipples exposed. I reach toward them and she kneels over me, letting me touch them for the first time. They turn from large, soft pink flesh to tall hard points as I softly touch them. I could really fall for her. Fuck! That stinging hand on my face again! She crouches over me. Almost without realizing it, I open my mouth and beg her to please have sex with me. My cock is so hard for her. Please, Anastasia, please.

She leans into my hips and my cock touches the cotton of her thong. I can feel how wet she is. She puts her hand around my throat just hard enough that I can feel my own pulse. Her hard nipples are brushing my chest. With her other hand, she grabs my sack and presses firmly, feeling the surging in the base of my cock. Please, Anastasia, please.

Leaning sideways, she dismounts and puts my hand on her hips, under the strings of her underwear. She holds her breasts as I slide the thong slowly over her soft, round hips. I’m looking at the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen. Not surprisingly, it’s well-manicured, and except for a neatly trimmed triangle, it’s completely bare. The lips are a gorgeous red, full and large. I can see the glistening wetness that before I only felt. Before I even quite realize it, she’s straddling me again, holding my wrists tightly on the pillow.

She rubs that wet pussy on the tip of my cock. She eases the head inside of her, and I’m thankful I already masturbated twice today or I would come. She feels loose and warm and soft. One last time, her nails dig into my wrists. She moans in my ear and tightens her pussy. I can’t believe how tight it is now! She straddles me, the pulsing rhythm of her pussy on the head of my cock, those hard nipples rubbing my chest. I want to grab the top edges of that corset and push her pussy down over me, but I know that would mean another backhand…or worse. She slows to a halt, hovering. I want to please her. I have to take a chance.

Grabbing her waist, I gently put her on her back. I kiss her neck, like a dog licking the master who beats it. I kiss those hard nipples, exploring her soft body with my hands. Her domination melts. I start to tug at the busk of her corset; it’s too tight for me to manage with one hand. She smirks a little at my inept attempt. Using both hands and quite a bit of force, the hooks yield, one at a time, and I open the corset. It was so tight I can see red lines where the steel boning bound her. There she is, naked underneath me, like I’ve pictured a thousand times. I run my fingers on the red lines up her waist and start feeling her soft breasts and hard nipples. My mouth instinctively finds that engorged pussy, and I start kissing and licking it, consuming her in my mouth.

“Slow down, you idiot. Be gentle.” Even underneath me, she’s still in charge. But dammit, she’s right; I was so eager to taste her I lost myself. Slowly, my tongue licks her clit, lapping up the wetness. My mouth waters from the taste. She’s moaning now, but I keep licking at the same pace. She’s close now. She wants to finish, but I slow down. Yeah, that’s right, I’m in control for once. I can feel that pussy start contracting, tightening for me.

“Jason, tell me you want to fuck me.” Without pulling my mouth off her clit, I whisper that I want to fuck her. I do want her. I kiss and lick that beautiful clit, telling her over and over that I want to fuck her, and her orgasm wracks her entire body. She pulls me on top of her by my neck.

I push the head of my cock inside. Her legs are spread, with one foot guardedly on my shoulder. I imitate her earlier motion, allowing just the tip inside. In a small voice,

“Please, Jason, please” she whines.

I thrust inside. I push, and push, and my head spins, and her moans are throaty and desperate, and I fuck her with all the energy I have. Her other foot is on my back, pushing me inside as deep as I can go. I can feel the pulsing of that sweet pussy again, and I can’t hold on any more. Fuck, yes. I start to come, and she holds me tight, moving in one rhythm with me, fucking and moaning and coming and finally collapsing in a warm sweat together.

It’s over, and I can see her mind already wandering away from me. Wordlessly, she kisses me. She gathers her corset and thong, stuffs them in her bag, and slips into her dress. I want to hold on, to fuck her again and again, but she walks out of the room anyway. But I know she’ll call. And I’ll come running again.

Here we go again.

Fuck.