Fuck Buddy

by Scott Hildreth

  “I want that dick.”

  “Shhh.” I flipped my hair out of my eyes and grinned. “This is an experiment.”

  I curled my fingertips again, teasing her g-spot.

  Her eyes fell closed.

  I studied her as I continued to torture her. With my eyes remaining fixed on her face, I adjusted myself on the comforter and reached for her nipple with my free hand. She initially pulled away, only to exhale sharply and relax onto the bed beside me.

  Twisting her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, I continued to work my fingers in and out of her now completely soaked pussy. With every other stroke, I curled the tips of my fingers into the sensitive spot directly above them.

  She opened her eyes and raised herself onto her elbows. “I need it. I do.”

  I slid me fingers deep and held them in place.

  Her back naturally arched. “No more experiments. Fuck me.”

  I grinned and shook my head.

  “Let me suck your cock.”

  With my fingers buried deep inside of her, I curled them upward, dragging the tips along the inner wall of her tightness. As my fingers pressed against her g-spot she fought to get away, squirming toward the headboard of the bed.

  “Fuck my mouth,” she said.

  “Hold still.”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry. I need your cock. Let me see it.”

  I shook my head. She pulled away from me and sat up.

  She pressed her hands against my shoulders. “You fucker.”

  Playfully, I let her push me onto my back. As I rolled over, my cock stood straight as attention, pointing directly at the ceiling.

  “I’m riding that cock,” she said as she climbed on top of me.

  Although I hadn’t shared my feelings with Liv, since our confrontation with my mother, my manhood seemed to have a mind of its own. Previously, my mind had to be filled with devious thoughts for me to be erect, and now all I had to do was see Liv.

  The thought of a woman riding my cock had never appealed to me, and in fact, it had been tried a few times, all of which had been unsuccessful.

  Anxious to see if it would work, I fought back very little.

  “If you’re going to ride it, you better ride it.”

  Facing me, she grinned and reached between her legs. She slid two of her fingers into herself and lifted her hand between us. “Look, soaked.”

  “I know.”

  She gripped my shaft in her hand, stroked it twice, and lifted her ass slightly from my thighs. As she lowered herself, moaning the entire time, her tight pussy enveloped the entire length of my cock.

  “Watch,” she groaned.

  I cleared my throat. “Excuse me?”

  “Watch!” she demanded, nodding her head toward my waist.

  She wiggled her hips, grinding her wet pussy onto the base of my shaft. “No, better idea.”

  “Count.”

  I interlocked my fingers behind my head and stared up at her. “What?”

  “Count,” she commanded.

  She lifted her weight from me until the lips of her pussy barely encompassed the head of my dick. Hovering above me on shaking legs, she peered down at me and grinned. “Say one.”

  “One,” I said.

  She released herself and thrust the entire shaft deep inside.

  “I love your big cock,” she moaned.

  “I love your tight little pussy.”

  “When I lift up, you say how many strokes we’re on,” she said. “Ready?”

  I grinned and nodded.

  She lifted herself again.

  I gazed down at my glistening cock. “Two.”

  She grinded herself down onto my hips. The feeling of her tight pussy squeezing my cock was almost more than I could handle. Having had always been in charge of what was happening in any of my sexual adventures, I found the excitement of not knowing very arousing.

  I closed my eyes and allowed myself to become lost in the feeling.

  Watch!” she barked.

  I opened my eyes. With my throbbing shaft still buried deep inside of her, she reached up and squeezed her boobs in her hands, pinching her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.

  “You watching?”

  I nodded eagerly.

  She lifted her weight, slowly exposing each inch of my cock as it escaped her tight grip.

  “Two. No. Three. Three!” I said as I saw the rim appear.

  “Fuck it. You don’t count worth a fuck.” she said. “And I don’t have the patience for this shit.”

  She began to work her hips back and forth rapidly, teasing my cock with precision. I closed my eyes as she continued, fearful that I might not make it for long. As she bucked her hips and forced my entire cock inside of her with each perfectly timed stroke, I closed my eyes and focused.

  Her pussy was magical, fitting my girth perfectly. Tight enough that the first few strokes needed to be taken slowly and with great care, but forgiving enough to allow full penetration after a reasonable amount of foreplay.

  “Fuck yes,” she wailed. “I’m going to come all over you.”

  She continued to thrust her hips back and forth, tossing her head from side to side as she did. Her hair bounced about, falling down and partially covering her boobs, only to be tossed to the side with the next stroke.

  As I felt her contract on the shaft, I held my breath.

  “Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuuuuuck yes…” she moaned as she held the entire length deep inside of her.

  I felt myself begin to swell.

  Slowly, she lifted herself up the shaft.

  After holding still for a short second, she shoved it deep again.

  I arched my back, opened my eyes, and absorbed every ounce of her being.

  And I burst inside of her.

  She let out a moan of pleasure, and although she held still, her vaginal walls massaged my cock, milking it of every drop of cum.

  “Fuck yes,” she breathed as she collapsed on top of me.

  I pushed up on her shoulders, lifted her from me, and gazed into her eyes. “You think you’re done?”

  “My twat is throbbing,” she said.

  “Fuck my mouth,” I demanded.

  “No contrast,” she said.

  I shook my head and stared. “Excuse me?”

  She grinned. “Let’s fuck each other’s mouths.”

  There was no doubt about it. We were truly cut from the same cloth, and there was no contrast between us.

  She rolled over, turned around, and lowered her pussy onto my face. As I shoved my tongue deep into her, she wrapped her wet lips around the head of my cock. Thrilled that I was erect again, I fingered her pussy for a moment, and then slid my finger deep into her ass. She responded by taking my entire shaft down her throat. I flicked my tongue against her clit.

  She repeatedly forced my cock against the back of her throat.

  No contrast.

  I wouldn’t want it any other way.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  LIV

  Bound to his bed and blindfolded, I tightened my jaw as the leather straps of the flogger came down against the tender flesh of my ass. I knew better than to make a sound.

  I was so turned on that my nipples coming in contact with the comforter was enough to drive me insane. He gripped my hair tight in his hand, twisted my head to the side and pressed his muscular chest into my back.

  “I’m going to fuck that tight little pussy of yours,” he whispered into my ear.

  Please do.

  Please.

  “Anything to please you, Sir.”

  The faint sound of something whistling through the air caused my muscles to tense. Another swat on my ass – this time the unmistakable feeling of the crop.

  My pussy throbbed so hard it ached.

  I needed Luke inside of me. I needed to feel his thick cock filling me, stretching me, making me whole.

  Again, the crop against the other side of my ass.

  Silence.

&nb
sp; He forced a finger inside of me. I opened my mouth and breathed silently into the comforter, pleased to have him grace me with penetration. He added another finger, pushed deep into my aching twat, and then slowly pulled them free.

  “Open,” he said.

  I stretched my mouth wide.

  The sweet taste of my pussy against my tongue drove me into a frenzy. I readily sucked his fingers free of my wetness, hoping he would once again give me the satisfaction of having them deep within me.

  “Do you want that cock?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I begged.

  His weight lifted from my back. A faint rustle from beside me caused me to tilt my head to the side in wonder.

  The shrill whistle of the crop provided warning, but not soon enough. My muscles tensed from the sharp but erotic pain that filled me. I chewed against my lip and prepared for another swat.

  His chest pressed into my back. His hand tugged against my hair. “Do you want that cock?” he whispered into my ear.

  “Yes, Sir,” I barked.

  “That’s better,” he breathed.

  Having my eyesight deprived didn’t necessarily make the sex better, only different. I definitely wouldn’t want to be blind on a permanent basis, but being blindfolded on occasion was proving to be an exciting addition to our BDSM play.

  Slowly, we were both becoming comfortable with our sexual selves. Together, we read, watched videos, and experimented. We always agreed on what we were going to do, and made clear what we wouldn’t allow. My safe word, almond butter, had yet to pass my lips.

  I felt his weight lift from against my back, only to be replaced by the feeling of his thighs against the backs of my legs.

  Please.

  Please fuck me

  I wasn’t in a mental place where I felt I wanted his dick, or that I preferred him to fuck me over some other act.

  I needed it.

  My twat ached.

  Fill me with that big fat cock.

  The pressure of the head of his dick against my wet pussy lips didn’t last long. With ease, he slid his length inside of me. With my legs bound to opposite corners at the foot of the bed, and my hands bound to the head, I was his for the taking.

  And take me he certainly did.

  He drove himself in and out of my willing pussy in a steady rhythmic pace. Long steady strokes of his thick cock filled me completely, satisfying me to no end. I clenched my eyes closed and focused on the feeling of his balls banging against my clit with each stroke.

  Although we had tried orgasm control on many occasions, tonight I was free to have an orgasm whenever I wanted.

  But I wasn’t free to speak unless spoken to.

  I loved dirty talk, and over time, we had both become quite good at turning each other on with our sexual banter.

  “You may speak freely,” he said as he continued to fuck me steadily.

  I arched my back, lifted my head from the bed, and wet my lips.

  “Fuck me, Sir. Fuck me hard.”

  “Use my pussy like only you know how.”

  His rhythm increased. His breathing became labored slightly.

  “Take what is yours,” I wailed.

  His thick cock stretched me open, sending a pleasurable ache through me.

  “I love that big cock, Sir,” I cried. “I do.”

  “I’m going to fill you with my cum,” he bellowed.

  “Please do, Sir,” I begged.

  He pounded himself into me savagely, causing the restraints on my feet to pull against my ankles. Every muscle in my legs and ass shook with each vicious stroke.

  At his current pace, I knew I wouldn’t last long, and I didn’t.

  As I felt myself begin to clench against his cock, I craned my neck, pointing my mouth toward the ceiling.

  “Fill my tight little pussy, Sir. I beg you,” I pleaded.

  As my body convulsed into an orgasm from deep within my soul, his cock swelled. One more stroke, and he held still, his cum bursting from the tip and filling me as I reached a new level of climax.

  Exhausted, he collapsed onto me. A tingling ran through me from my nipples to my clit.

  I blinked my eyes repeatedly as he removed the blindfold. Although the room was dim, my eyes adjusted slowly to the light. As I watched him unfasten the restraints, I grinned.

  “I love it when you fuck me.”

  “And I love fucking you,” he said. “Give me just a minute, and we’ll take a bath.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  He lifted me from the bed, carried me to the bathroom, and rubbed my back as we waited for the tub to fill.

  Luke was my lover, my therapist, and my Sir.

  But, above all, he was still my best friend.

  And I loved him dearly for it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  LUKE

  The home I made every effort to stay away from hadn’t changed one bit, but I had. Confronting my mother seemed to free me of whatever had haunted me for a lifetime. I hadn’t walked along the beach at midnight seeking refuge from my dreams for over three months.

  “Pass the salad, Liv,” Matt said.

  “Only if you’ll pass the cottage cheese,” she said. “I’ll trade.”

  My mind drifted to the recollection of the cottage cheese on the night Liv told me she was done dating. I smiled to myself at the thought of that night being the predecessor to our relationship.

  “Cottage cheese is ugly,” I said jokingly as she passed it to Matt.

  “I know,” she said. “But it tastes so good.”

  Not only had I returned to my childhood home, it seemed I was doing so eagerly. Matt, Liv, and I had a standing Sunday dinner with my father, which was something I never would have guessed. Matt was walking with a cane, my father was surfing every day, and Liv was working part-time out of my shop – designing graphics for surfboards across the nation.

  It took some time for it to happen, but as far as I was concerned, my life was perfect.

  I raised my fork and wagged it at my father. “The chicken is spot-on, Dad.”

  He looked up from his plate and tossed his hair out of his eyes. “Well, I’ve had a while to perfect it.”

  “It’s scrumptious,” Liv said.

  “I’m glad you like it. Better than that pork we had last week.” He chuckled. “Bunch of sore asses that night.”

  “Try getting up and down off that toilet with a cane,” Matt complained.

  My father had prepared pork tacos the previous week, and everyone got terribly ill immediately after the meal. The bathrooms occupied all night until Liv and I felt safe enough to try and venture home.

  My father took a drink of water and peered over the table. “So I hit Black’s twice this week. West north-west swell kicked in and I caught six footers all day Wednesday. Thursday wasn’t as good, but better than Scripps.”

  “Better stay away from Black’s, Old Man. You’re liable to get hurt,” I said.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Who taught your skinny little ass to surf?”

  I shrugged. “A long time ago.”

  “Just like riding a bike,” he said. “And I didn’t teach you everything I know.”

  “Sounds like a challenge,” Liv said.

  “Sure does,” Matt chimed.

  I pointed to the plate in front of my father. “Toss me a piece of chicken.”

  My father picked up a chicken breast and tossed it high into the air. As I watched it reach its apex and begin to fall, Liv poked me in the ribs.

  I flinched, and the chicken fell directly into my lap.

  “Looks like you’re the one getting old. You’ve got slow hands,” my father said.

  I reached into my lap and picked up the chicken. “She poked me.”

  “Sounds like an excuse,” he said. “And you know what I say about excuses.”

  “What’s that?” Liv asked.

  “They’re like assholes,” he said. “Everybody has one, and they all stink.”

  “I did pok
e him,” Liv said.

  My dad shrugged. “He needs to learn to stay focused.”

  After dusting the lint from the piece of chicken, without warning, I tossed it across the table at my father. With lightning quick speed, he raised his hand and snatched the chicken out of the air.

  “Impressive for an old man,” I said.

  He threw the chicken at me.

  It hit me dead center in the chest.

  I threw it back.

  He caught it, grinned, and took a bite.

  “Alright, you two,” Liv said.

  My relationship with my father was always a good one, but my mother’s actions caused me to spend more time away from the home than I really wanted to. After she left, I continued to stay away, as the home reminded me of her and of the abuse.

  As a result, my father, who had done nothing but support me for my entire life, suffered. Having him in my life again made me feel young. It seemed I was now living my childhood with him that I felt I had been deprived of.

  “So one of these days you two are going to have to get married, Liv,” my dad said.

  She looked up from her plate. “Why’s that?”

  He poked a slice of cucumber with his fork and lifted it halfway to his mouth. “I want a grandkid. Kids keep us young.”

  “We don’t have to get married to make babies,” she said.

  He dropped his fork. After it clanked onto the edge of his plate, he turned to face me and scowled.

  “Don’t tell me you two are having sex out of wedlock,” he said stone-faced.

  I shook my head. “Not a chance.”

  I glanced at Liv.

  She swallowed heavily.

  My dad shifted his gaze to her. “So, you were joking, right?”

  She glanced at me with wide eyes, obviously looking for some type of support.

  I shrugged.

  “I uhhm.” She turned to face my dad. “Can I plead the fifth?”

  He shrugged and gazed down at his plate. “Just as well admit guilt.”

  “Luke?” she whined.

  “Can’t help ya, Babe.”

  My father glanced at Matt, shifted his eyes to me, and then to Liv. With his eyes glued on Liv, he continued to torture her. “Well. Personally, I wouldn’t fuck him with Hillary Clinton’s twat. Did he tell you about the herpes?”

  “Herpes?” she snapped back.

  She turned to me and scowled.