S is for SEX

by Scott Hildreth

  “Uhhm, a Richard Nixon mask, some plastic pumpkins, a Bill Clinton mask,” she paused and shuffled through the box.

  “Uhhm a unicorn mask, and…” she said softly as she rummaged through the box.

  “Unicorn mask?” I raised my eyebrows in wonder.

  “Yep. Unicorn,” she said as she pulled the mask from the box.

  A large rubber mask shaped like the head of a unicorn dangled from her clenched fist. I’d always wondered about the people who wore the furry suits and fucked each other. To me, they defined freakish behavior. Fucking a human sized furry rabbit or a dog would just be weird. As I thought of the furry suits, I began to doubt if I could stay hard while attempting to fuck a girl in a furry dog suit.

  As I stared at the submissive Chuck wearing goofball, something about fucking someone in a mask kind began to appeal to me.

  To me, the excitement would be more from not knowing who was under the mask than the mask itself. As I clearly knew who she was, it took away from some of the fun and excitement. Well, technically, I knew what she looked like. I still didn’t know her name or any specifics.

  “I’ve always wanted to fuck someone in a mask. I just don’t know about fucking a Unicorn,” I shook my head and stared at her, uncertain if I wanted to attempt to fuck a horn wielding horse.

  “Unicorns barf rainbows and poop gold dust. Well, they can poop rainbows or gold dust,” she said in a serious tone.

  “They shit rainbows?” I asked dryly.

  “Yep. Rainbows and gold dust,” she giggled.

  “You know what they say, don’t you?” she asked as she lifted the mask over her shoulders.

  “What’s that?” I shrugged.

  “Always be yourself. Unless you can be a unicorn. Then always be a unicorn,” she laughed as she pulled the mask over her face.

  “I don’t know if I can fuck a unicorn. But Bill Clinton will fuck anything - he proved it. Hand me the Bill Clinton mask, Bill will fuck a unicorn,” I laughed.

  I did my best not to laugh as my submissive unicorn walked toward me with the rubber mask covering her face and neck as it resting on her shoulders. The twisted rubber horn rose from the forehead of the mask about two feet in the air in front of her as she approached.

  “Hurs dah Brrl Clindon mfff,” her muffled voice barely escaped the mass of mystical rubber which hid her face.

  I held the mask in front of me and stared at the distorted rubber face. It looked just like President Clinton, only rubber. I raised the mask to my head and chuckled, knowing I wasn’t the first person to wear a Bill Clinton mask and have a girl suck his cock. Certain there was a group of people somewhere with presidential fetishes, I stretched the mask over my head and stood up from the motorcycle seat.

  I’ve always been as mean as any man could ever be. When the time came to throw down and fight, I was always the first in line. Hell, two nights prior, I beat the shit out of a gun-wielding car thief. Mike Ripton. Mean. Tough. A man with a purpose.

  But this day was weird. Different. I stood in the garage of someone I didn’t know; stark naked with the exception of my Chuck’s, wearing a Bill Clinton Halloween mask. As I peered through the small eyes holes of my political disguise, the girl with no name wore a unicorn mask, naked from her Chuck’s up.

  As she waited for me to shove her full of my presidential cock, I silently laughed. I often got myself into situations which were different than any other sane thirty year old male would be in. Ridiculous shit. A few weeks or a month later, when I thought of what had happened; I’d always ask myself, Ripp, what the fuck were you thinking?

  The answer was always the same thing.

  Sex.

  Sex was my weakness. Sex was the common denominator in all of the misguided horseshit I got myself into. Fucking was a drug to me, and the submissive unicorn was beginning to become addictive.

  “Bend over,” I demanded as I pointed toward the motorcycle seat.

  She turned to face me and tilted her horn to the side. A muffled grunt came from her mask. Trying to hear while wearing a rubber presidential mask was nearly impossible. Speaking in a manner allowing someone else to hear was equally difficult.

  “What?” I yelled.

  “Huh?” she screamed back.

  I couldn’t really have viewed it as disobeying a dominant command. My submissive unicorn was basically deaf. I reached out, grabbed her hand, and led her to the motorcycle. As I stood beside the motorcycle holding her hand, I had a revelation.

  I stepped over the motorcycle and sat down on the seat. I held my left hand in the air and raised my index finger as I began stroking my now somewhat soft cock with my right hand. As I became hard, I slapped my thigh with my left hand and pointed to my lap. Her horn tilted to the side as if she were confused. The rubber eyes on either side of her head made me wonder how a unicorn could ever see anything.

  I pulled her hand toward me and slapped my lap again. It became obvious she finally understood my desire when she stepped over the seat and rested her ass onto my thighs. Lightly grasping each of her wrists, I guided her hands to the handlebars. Her back now against my chest, I reached down and lifted the palms of my hands against her butt, raising her off of my lap a few inches.

  As her ass hovered over my thighs, I raised my hips and guided myself into her wet pussy. Her initial reaction of rising up from my lap changed to a slow steady push against the tip of my cock. As my entire length slowly disappeared into her wet pussy, I placed my hands on her waist and my fingertips against her hip bones.

  Her petite frame and light weight made it easy for me to move her around. Gripping the small of her waist, I raised and lowered her onto my cock more rapidly with each stroke. Within a few minutes, she was taking the entire length into her warm wet pussy. My pace was that of a jackhammer, slamming her ass into my thighs as I pressed down on her hips.

  Her screams and shouts were muffled by the five pounds of rubber she had stretched over her face. Although she eventually took my entire cock into her pussy without complaint – at least none that I was able to hear, she was extremely tight. At the current pace I doubted I’d last a few minutes at best.

  Not being able to speak during sex seemed odd to me, considering the fact I typically talked a mad line of shit while I was fucking. I looked down and watched my cock slide in and out of her pussy as I continued to slam her ass into my thighs.

  Through the slits in my rubber mask, I peered at the hand controls of the motorcycle. I released one of her hips and flipped the ignition switch on. A green glow from the instruments confirmed the neutral position of the transmission. As I held her other hip in my hand, I pressed the start button and started the engine. The rumble and vibration of the motorcycle provided a different level of satisfaction. Her hands still on the controls, I rested my palm against the outside of her hand which was gripping the throttle, and twisted the engine to a loud roar a few times.

  I squeezed her hip in my hand again and forced her down onto my cock completely. As her ass continued to bounce against my thighs, I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling of her tight pussy around the girth of my cock. The pressure of her on my lap, her soaking wet pussy, the motorcycle vibrating and the exhaust rumbling proved to be far more than I was prepared for.

  As I felt my cock began to swell, I raised my ass from the seat of the motorcycle and forced myself deeper into her. I felt her moans of pleasure vibrating through her lungs as my chest pressed against her back. As my fingers gripped into her waist, I knew this adventure was a matter of seconds from ending. I straightened my legs and pressed my hips into her butt, pushing her into a position of being bent over.

  Now standing and straddling the motorcycle, I was forcing myself into her at a steady pace. I closed my eyes and focused on my hips pounding against her ass. Bent over with her hands steadied by the controls, she began to scream.

  The muffled noise from within her mask became louder as my cock began to swell. As I felt myself begin to climax, I gripped her
waist tightly, closed my eyes and groaned. As if she planned it, at the instant I exploded with pleasure inside of her, she revved the throttle of the motorcycle a few times. The sound of the exhaust echoing through the garage as I came provided me a different degree of pleasure.

  Half overcome by exhaust fumes from earlier, the heat from wearing the presidential mask during sex and the fact I had just reached climax on a running motorcycle had me almost exhausted. I reached up and flipped the ignition switch to off. As the engine stopped running, I pulled the mask from my face and took a few unobstructed breaths of fresh air.

  I gripped the back of her unicorn mask and after what seemed like a few minutes of struggle, pulled it from her head. Her hair a tangled wet mess and her face covered in sweat, she rotated her head and looked at me over her left shoulder.

  “I like you. You’re fun,” she breathed.

  I stepped over the motorcycle and stood beside it, staring at her naked body.

  “You’re fun, too,” I sighed.

  As she raised her leg over the motorcycle, I dropped the masks onto the floor beside where we stood. A quick look at my G-Shock revealed it was 3:50 pm. We had been fucking for two and a half hours. Holy shit. Shocked at the amount of time which had passed and the fact I was supposed to meet Vee for drinks after her work day was over, I came to the realization I needed to leave quickly.

  “Are you going to be my Dom?” she asked cheerily.

  Hell, I didn’t even know her name, and she wanted me to take charge of her, sexually.

  “I believe so,” I stammered.

  Other than the fact I knew I had some serious issues with saying no to sex, I had no idea why I responded the way I did. Nervously, I looked around the garage as if there was some form of answer sitting in the corner beside the holiday boxes.

  “Awaiting your next instruction, sir,” she said as she curtsied.

  I studied her for a long moment. Still in broad daylight, we both stood in her garage wearing nothing but our shoes. Naked and wondering just what this little nympho would be willing to do for me on my next visit, I dropped the bomb.

  “I need to leave. I have an appointment I need to get to,” I murmured.

  She stood in front of me and nodded her head.

  “Alright. Well,” I paused as I reached for my shorts.

  Hell, I still didn’t know her name or phone number.

  The weight of my shorts reminded me my cell phone was in my pocket. It was common for me to have my phone in my pocket when I rode my motorcycle. I stepped into my shorts, buttoned them, and zipped the fly. I pulled my phone from my pocket and handed it to her.

  “Put your name and number in there while I finish getting dressed,” I said firmly as I handed her the phone.

  As she pressed her fingertips on the screen of my phone, I pulled my shirt over my head and re-tied my shoes. As I stood up and stepped to the edge of the motorcycle, she handed me the phone. A quick look at the screen, and I was in business.

  Destiny Dawn. I rolled my eyes a little bit as I read the name. I dropped the phone into my pocket and got on the motorcycle. I flipped the ignition on and fired the engine.

  “So, is Dawn your middle or last name?” I asked over the rumbling exhaust.

  “Last,” she smiled.

  “Well, Destiny Dawn, I have to get out of here. I’ll shoot you a text later, and include instructions on my wishes. Sound good?” I asked.

  She nodded her head once sharply.

  Motorcycles do not have a reverse gear. The transmission propels the bike in forward motion only. When a rider needs to back a motorcycle up, he uses his legs and pushes the motorcycle rearward until he is able to pull forward safely. As I had pulled into the garage facing forward, I needed to back the motorcycle out of the garage and pull forward in the driveway.

  As I slowly backed the motorcycle up, I admired her petite body and perky tits. Standing naked, she bent down and picked up the unicorn mask. I watched in wonder as she pulled it over her head and waved goodbye.

  I waved, shifted the bike into gear, released the clutch, and pulled out into the street. As I turned my head to face the house one last time, the garage door began to come down. I shook my head from side to side as the door obstructed the view of my submissive unicorn.

  Always be yourself. Unless you can be a unicorn. Then always be a unicorn.

  Truer words have never been spoken.

  RIPP. I had spent my life, sexually speaking, not caring. I had never cared who I was with or what their desires were. I had always known sooner or later I’d be satisfied with whoever I found to fuck, and although I satisfied them, I always acted selfishly. It was always about me. Not once did I go into a sexual situation with the intent of making anyone happy but myself. Satisfying myself, by nature, caused my sexual partner to be happy. The fact I was selfish remained.

  And I didn’t care.

  Thirty days with Vee, and all I could think about was how I didn’t want to disappoint her or cause her to believe I was doing anything for anyone but her. She might have been the right person at the right time, or maybe I was just ready for a change. Whatever caused me to feel the way I felt was irrelevant, the feeling existed and I couldn’t change it. I couldn’t really say I was disappointed in any manner, because I wasn’t. In fact, I was pleased to feel like there was someone on this earth of the opposite sex I could actually care about.

  Most mornings I woke up and looked around, not quite believing how I felt. I told myself early on it was something else and I was merely confused. I tried to force myself to believe it wasn’t what it was and I didn’t feel the way I felt. All it took to reassure me was seeing her again.

  Whenever we met, went to dinner, or met for a drink, it would happen. Immediately I would be overcome with a feeling of not wanting it to end. And as soon as it ended, sometimes even five minutes after she had left, I felt a need to see her again immediately. I felt foolish and weak. I fought with the feelings from time to time, but finally decided if I felt the way I did and we weren’t having sex, the feelings must be genuine.

  It didn’t make it any easier to accept. I felt vulnerable. I had reservations about her sincerity. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was intelligent, had tremendous wit, and enjoyed the things I enjoyed. She had attended a bare knuckles match with Shane, Kace and I and liked it so much she didn’t stop talking about it for ten days. She, in my mind, was perfect. And I, Michael Allen Ripton, did not deserve perfection.

  But perfection stood before me.

  “I gotta come clean,” I confessed.

  “About?” she said as she started to untie her shoes.

  “Don’t take those off,” I said softly as I shook my head.

  “Okay,” she responded as she looked up from her shoe.

  “Sit down,” I pointed to the couch as I walked toward it.

  “What’s wrong, Ripp?” she asked as she sat down.

  “Nothing’s really wrong. I just need to tell you some things. Just clear up a few things we’ve kinda talked about. Make some things clear. I don’t know. I just need to kind of, well. Kind of come clean,” I said as I sat beside her.

  Worry washed over her face as she sat down beside me, “Is everything okay?”

  “Just listen, alright?” I said over my left shoulder.

  She nodded.

  “More than anything, I want this to work. I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you, and I mean that. Whatever it takes. The thought of not having you makes me feel sick. I’ve never felt like this, ever. Hell, it’s new to me, and it scares the absolute fuck out of me, but I still want it. I want it more than anything,” I paused, rotated to my left and swung my legs onto the couch between us.

  “I want to be in a relationship with you more than anything. You said thirty days to get to know each other and all that. Hell, I’d wait thirty years. Some things in life we wonder about, and there are other things we know. I know this. I want to have the satisfaction of calling you min
e, and give you the satisfaction of calling me yours,” I slid my hand to her thigh as I spoke.

  “I want that too,” she smiled.

  I held my finger in the air, “Well, here’s where it gets sticky.”

  “You want to be the submissive half of a dominant-submissive relationship,” I inhaled a shallow breath, exhaled, and continued.

  “And you want to have a dominant significant other. Well, I got news for you. I ain’t dominant. I kind of bullshitted you. I been reading books and asking lots of questions, but I ain’t there yet. I want to try, but I don’t have any experience.”

  “Is that all?” she asked.

  I nodded and waited for her to drop the bomb.

  “I don’t have any experience either. I’ve never been in this type of relationship, I told you that. I just know it’s where I belong. So how about this, we’ll do it together? You and I? We’ll learn together? I just need you to take the reins, I need that,” she smiled.

  “And that’s it? You’re okay with everything else?” I asked.

  She nodded and smiled.

  “Okay, well,” I inhaled another shallow breath and smiled.

  “Starting this minute, I’m taking charge. For right now, I think only one thing matters, we can figure out everything else in time. We’re going to come up with a safe word, and if I do anything you don’t want or don’t like, you say it, and we’ll stop,” I paused and waited for her to speak.

  She nodded eagerly as I rubbed my hand along her thigh.

  “Okay, and another thing. I might do some things just to see if you like them, so don’t always think that anything I’m doing is because I like it or enjoy it. I’m gonna need to see what it is you like, too. Nobody will ever be in trouble for communicating, ever. Okay?” I cocked one eyebrow and waited.

  She nodded eagerly.

  “Snowstorm,” she smiled.

  “What? What the hell does that mean?” I asked.

  “I want it for a safe word,” she said.

  “Really? That’s weird. They say it’s gotta be one you’ll never forget,” I reminded her.