by Nikki Sins
Kristin’s back is arched and her head is tilted up slightly, allowing her long blonde hair to spill down her back, tempting Jake, taunting him. Risking her wrath, Jake grabs a handful of her hair and gives it a little tug.
Kristin replies with a low moan and then retaliates by reaching down and grabbing ahold of his ballsack in her hand and giving it a squeeze while continuing to hammer her ass down on his cock. Jake returns the favor by yanking harder on Kristin’s hair. She, in turn, squeezes his balls more tightly.
Enjoying the implications of this little game, Jake pulls hard enough that Kristin lets out a sharp gasp that has a little pain mixed in with the pleasure. Once Kristin has recovered she squeezes Jake’s balls so hard that he gasps almost entirely in pain.
Getting the hint, Jake immediately releases Kristin’s hair. She turns back to face him again, a little smile on her lips. She doesn’t release his balls but tones down the pressure, still squeezing but not as hard. She plays with his balls while she continues fucking him, rubbing them together and juggling them in her palm.
Kristin straddles the line between pleasure and pain so successfully that Jake is right at the point where he’s about ready to cum. His groans are deeper and more consistent, his breath more rapid.
But Kristin seems to sense this. She lets go of his balls for a moment before smacking them a couple of times, causing him to flinch. Laughing under her breath at Jake’s discomfort, Kristin lifts herself off his cock, freeing it from her asshole, then spins around to face him, switching her feet so she’s still straddling his waist.
Standing over him, Kristin plays with her pussy, slipping three fingers inside and banging away. A few seconds later she lets out a deep, shuddering moan and cums again, dripping pussy juice all over Jake’s stomach and chest.
She immediately bends down and licks her juices off Jake’s body, her tongue running over his flesh while her eyes remained locked on his.
After she’s cleaned Jake off, Kristin squats down, grabs ahold his cock, and slides it back into her asshole. With her hands on his chest for balance, she drops her body onto his cock, taking it all the way down before rising back up, making his cock completely disappear inside her asshole.
She bounces on his cock for a little while before straddling him proper and using her asshole to work his cock up and down and forward and back at the same time, her moans reaching a fevered pitch now.
As Jake steadily approaches orgasm, Kristin starts rubbing her clit with her right hand while continuing to hammer down on his cock with her ass. After working her clit for half a minute, she lets out yet another animalistic moan and cums yet again, sending more of her juices squirting out of her pussy.
This time the spray is more powerful; it reaches his upper chest and neck and some even gets on his face. For some reason Kristin squirting all over him turns Jake on immensely, immediately putting him over the edge. He curses under his breath a couple times, alerting Kristin that he’s about to cum.
Kristin pulls his cock out of her asshole and bends down in front of him. Taking the shaft of his cock in her hand and the head in her mouth, she proceeds to jerk him off while sucking on the tip.
Kristin stares at Jake while she blows him to completion, her eyes glaring at him with what appears to be a look of victory.
Jake’s body tenses in preparation of cumming. He thinks Kristin is going to take his load in her mouth but just as he starts to shoot his seed she pulls his cock out of her mouth and aims it back at him, pointing it at his head.
Staring at him with an amused look in her eyes, Kristin jerks Jake off to completion, sending his white sperm shooting up towards his face. With no real recourse, Jake grimaces and turns his head to the side, hoping to spare himself the brunt of the explosion.
Luckily for him, just a few splashes hit his chin. Most of his load ends up on his stomach and chest and a little bit on his neck, mixing with Kristin’s juices that she deposited on him just moments ago.
Smiling at him with a demonic grin, Kristin takes Jake’s cock in her mouth and sucks on the tip, extracting the last few drops of cum from his cock with enough force to make him squirm. Eventually she lets his cock out of her mouth and releases her hold on it.
As Jake’s chest heaves in an attempt to catch his breath, Kristin slides off him. She climbs to her feet and heads into the bathroom, reappearing with a towel in her hand. She tosses it to Jake and tells him to clean himself up, then thanks him for a fun afternoon and tells him to let himself out. She turns and heads back into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
As the shower starts up, Jake cleans himself up and goes about picking up his clothes and slipping them on. As he heads towards the front door, he muses on the irony of being the one who got used for sex instead of the other way around. But instead of it bothering him, it was strangely liberating being on the other side of things. He’d never been used quite like that before. And while he didn’t want to be on this side all the time, he certainly wouldn’t avoid it in the future. Getting used was more fun than he’d ever imagined it could be. It was quite fun indeed.
#####
THE FILTHY MILF DOMINATES ME
I’ve never understood the reluctance to pay for an escort. The way I see it, escorts provide the best of both worlds. Not only are you pretty much guaranteed to get someone who knows how to fuck, you get someone who either enjoys doing it or are good enough at faking it that you won’t know any different. And more importantly you don’t have to deal with any of the heartache. You make a phone call, order the services and type of girl you desire, pay your money, then relax and start getting warmed up. No need for any false pretences, no need for any emotional ties, no need for any awkwardness associated with conventional male/female relationships. No worry about talking afterward. Or sharing your feelings. None of that crap applies. As for the morals of the transaction? What are morals anyway but a set of standards forced upon us by the arbitrary whims of the society. Fuck it, I say. Do what you want, what makes you feel good. Fuck everyone else. Let them live their own life. So the way I see it, give me an escort or give me death. But enough of the rambling, I’m sure you want to get to the good stuff. After all, that’s why you bought this right? For the sex. So here we go.
I’m in Los Angeles for an overnight stay in the middle of a two-week long business trip. There are hundreds of reasons why I love L.A., not the least of which is its high-quality escorts. As the porn capitol of the world, the misnamed City of Angels has no shortage of sex workers plying their trade. You can get whatever kind of girl you want—any hair color, any attitude, any race—with nothing more than a phone call to the right person. And I know all the numbers by heart. I call one of my favorite companies and arrange for a specific type of girl to come to my door in exactly thirty minutes, then I open a bottle of $200 merlot to let it breathe and sit back and allow my excitement build.
Exactly thirty minutes later there is a series of hard knocks on my hotel room door. I go to answer it, a glass of wine already in hand. Just before I grasp the handle there comes another series of knocks. Harder than the first one.
“Open up already,” says a husky, incredibly sexy female voice from the other side. Impatient, demanding, used to being in charge. Exactly what I ordered up. My entire body tingles with anticipation.
I open the door and she steps in and grabs the glass of wine out of my hand and pushes past me before I even have a chance to get a good look at her from the front. But the back is shaping up beautifully. Straight, jet black hair hanging down beneath her shoulders. Short black dress hugging her voluptuous curves perfectly, ending just above her knees, accentuating her round ass perfectly. Gorgeous legs, toned to perfection, not too skinny, not to muscular. Calves you just wanted to take a bite out of. The same height as me in her 2-inch heels. My dick is already rock-hard just from looking at her and all I can see is her backside. This is going to be a great night.
She drains the glass of wine and pours herself another. She
glances over her shoulder for just a moment but still doesn’t turn towards me. It’s obvious she’s torturing me, making me wait, playing her game. And I’m loving every second of it.
She finishes the second glass and finally turns to face me. I can only stare, barely able to catch my breath let alone speak.
“From the look on your face I take it you like what you see,” she says, her voice slightly mocking.
I nod and take her in. Big brown eyes with a naughty edge to them, dark blue eye shadow, full nose; not big, not small, lips painted bright red. One corner of her mouth is turned up in a little smirk. She looks at me with a hint of disdain, as though she knows she’s better than me. As if I’m her little plaything. As if she’s running the show. Which she is.
And her tits, oh my god. Large but not unnatural, they hang perfectly from her frame. Practically hanging out of her black dress, they were things of beauty; if not real, than an absolutely perfect augmentation.
“Oh, you like these, do you?” she says, grabbing her tits with and pushing them together. She smacks them, makes them bounce. Then does it again. And again, laughing at my reaction. Nipples like pencil erasers poke through the material, mocking me.
And then a tit slips out of her top. Just one. I almost cream my pants. This absolutely slays me, irrationally turning me on in ways I can’t quantify. I shiver, take a deep breath, force myself to calm down.
“You’re one jumpy little fucker, aren’t you?” she says. “What is this, your first time or something?”
“It sure feels like it,” I say, hoping my self-depreciating manner will somehow bring my excitement down a notch. But no such luck. Nothing short of an ice-cold shower could have that effect on me, and the way I was feeling tonight I doubt even that would do the trick.
“Well, you’re in luck,” she says as she takes a step towards me, her eyes sizing me up with deadly seriousness, like a lion eyeing a wounded zebra. “Because I’m a pro. And by the end of the night, you’ll be one too.” Another couple of steps and now she’s within arm’s length. “And there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you cum until I’m damn well good and ready for it. Got that, mister?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Mistress,” she says. “You call me mistress.”
“Yes, mistress,” I say.
She is nearly standing on top of me, her tits pressing up against my chest. We are face to face, almost exactly the same height. She eyes me up and down, inspecting me like a piece of meat.
“So, you like a woman who takes charge, do you?” she says.
I nod my head and lick my lips. I don’t trust myself to speak. As it is I can hardly breathe my adrenalin is flowing so fast.
“Then you got the right girl,” she says. “Because there’s nothing I like better than to be in control of my man. Especially a wanna-be tough guy like you. I bet you boss people around all day, don’t you? Always getting everyone to do whatever you want, whenever you want it.”
“Something like that.”
“Well not tonight, mister. Tonight you’re my toy. My little boy toy. You got that?”
“Yes mistress.”
“Damn right you do,” she says. And then she put her hands on my chest and shoves, pushing me backwards. I stumble back a few steps but she’s already on top of me, pushing me again, more gently this time, moving with me, backing me up until my butt is touching the wall.
She runs her hand up and down my chest, pressing up against me with hips, her mouth mere centimeters from mine, her eyes boring into me with deadly seriousness.
“You like that, don’t you,” she says. It’s not a question but a statement of fact. “You like me pushing you around, putting my hands wherever I want, not even asking for permission.”
I swallow and nod my head.
“What about this?” she says, dropping her hand down to my cock and grabbing it. “You like this too?”
“Yes.”
She squeezes my cock tighter, making me gasp. “Yes, what?” she asks sharply.
“Yes, mistress.”
“That’s better,” she says. And then she kneels down in front of me and starts rubbing my hard cock. It’s trapped against my pants, pushing into the material with nowhere to go but still she rubs it some more, making it harder and harder still, smiling at my discomfort. But still she rubs. I groan lightly. She giggles and rubs some more. I groan again, louder this time.
“Shut up and take it,” she says in a harsh voice. “Don’t make another fucking sound until I tell you to.”
“Yes mistress,” I say.
She smacks my balls. I wince in pain.
“Did I tell you to speak?”
I shake my head no.
“That’s a good boy,” she says. “And just for that you’re going to get rewarded.”
She undoes my zipper, sticks her hand inside my pants. She caresses my cock, slowly playing her finger up and down the shaft. It’s still folded up against my pants, threatening to poke a hole in the material.
When she finally unfolds my cock it pops out of the open zipper like a jack-in-the-box. She places her palm under it as if weighing it.
“Not bad,” she says. “Not bad at all.”
She spits on my cock and begins to stroke it. She looks up at me. “Do you want me to suck it?” she says, still stroking as she talks.
I nod.
“I want to hear you say it.”
“I want you to suck my cock.”
“Beg for it,” she says, still stroking.
“Please,” I say, the words coming out at no more than a whisper. “Suck my cock. Please, Mistress. Please suck my cock.”
She sticks her tongue out, licks the tip. I shudder. She looks up at me and smiles. Laughs. Shakes her head.
“Sorry,” she says. “It’s not going to happen. Not yet, at least. Torturing you is just too much fun.”
Then she cups my balls in her hand, drops down farther onto her knees, and scoots further under me. I lean back against the wall, slide my feet out away from it, and then my hips, creating a bridge. Giving her more room to work and myself a better angle to see what she’s doing.
She slips her hand up my scrotum and pinches it off just below my cock, creating a little pocket. She licks my sack, then suckles one of my balls, playing with it in her mouth. Then she does the same with other. She opens her mouth wider and takes them both at the same time. Bounces them off one another. Sucks on them, creating a vacuum with her mouth. Increasing the pressure.
I shudder, focus all my energy on not blowing my load. She senses this and relaxes the pressure while still continuing to suck. With my balls in her mouth she lays my cock on top of her face alongside her nose. She takes my cock in her hand and strokes it. Lets my balls fall from her mouth.
She scoots back and smiles up at me, a mocking, “I own you” smile. She is still on her knees. She is still stroking my cock.
My legs are trembling. My breath is ragged. The pressure is nearly unbearable. If she would just take me in her mouth I would cum within a matter of seconds and then I could die a happy man.
“Please,” I say.
“Please, what?”
“Please suck my cock.”
She tilts her head, eyes me with menace.
“Please suck my cock, mistress,” I say.
Her glare softens. She seems to think about it for a moment. Then, to my dismay, she stands up and says, “Nah, I don’t think so. You haven’t earned it yet.”
Her hand is still on my cock and she uses it to drag me towards the bed. My pants are still down around my ankles so I have to shuffle madly to keep from falling.
I start to beg her again but she turns and slaps me in the face.
“Shut up,” she says. “Did I tell you to speak to me?”
I shake my head.
“That’s right.” She turns me and pushes me down onto the bed. “So you just take your clothes off and lie down on your back and get ready to make yourself useful.”
“Yes mistress.”
I do as I am told, slipping out of my clothes while she goes over and has another glass of wine. She ignores me completely, as though I’m not even there, and this just turns me on even more. Finally I’m naked. I climb onto the bed and adjust myself so I am lying in the middle. The moment of truth is almost here. And I can hardly wait.
She dusts off her glass of wine and slips out of her dress and turns towards me, allowing me full access to her body. Fully naked now, I get the see it in all its splendor, taking it in as a whole. Beautiful face, graceful neck, perfect tits, thin waist, wide hips, neatly trimmed bush, muscled but not muscular legs. Even her feet were perfect, right down to her toenails which are painted bright red.
She is just standing there, towering over me, when she starts to play with her pussy. At first just rubbing it, then sticking one finger in, then two. Sliding in and out, the wetness building, becoming more and more slippery, occasionally pulling her fingers out to stick them in her mouth and suck off the juices before diving back in for more. She stares directly at me while she plays with herself, as if daring me stand up and take control. But I don’t fall for the trap. Instead I just start to play with myself, preparing my cock for what’s to come.
“Don’t fucking touch yourself,” she says. “Just let it sit there.”
I reluctantly do as I’m told.
And then she’s moving towards the bed, towards me. She’s taken to rubbing her clit but her eyes still haven’t strayed from mine.
She slaps her pussy a few times then climbs onto the bed by my feet. She begins to lick her way up my body, starting with my calves, then my knees, then my thighs. But instead of stopping at my waist she continues up, licking my belly button, then my under my ribs, licking, suckling, lightly biting, her hands exploring my chest as she does so. And then without warning she bites down on my nipple. I hiss in pain but she just laughs and continues on, suckling at my neck for a moment, then kissing me full on the lips, sticking her tongue down my throat with reckless intensity. But even that only lasts a couple seconds, and then she is continuing up towards my head and then before I know it she is sitting on my face, her dripping wet pussy dropping down perfectly onto my mouth and nose, straddling it, pushing down, smothering me, forcing me to breathe her in if I’m to take any breath at all.
