We sat on the edge of the bed as she kissed me again and slowly traced a line down my neck and round the outside of my breasts. Immediately my nipples stood to attention and she rolled them between thumb and forefinger through my lace blouse. What an amazing feeling that was and I yearned to feel her, touch her and make her feel the same. I felt for the top button of her blouse and it popped open easily, then the second, which was a little tricky but eventually popped open, too, allowing access to her bra, which was padded pink gingham. I reached my hand around the back, pulled out the blouse from the back of her jeans and traced a line up her backbone to find the clasp. With a flick it was free and I stroked her flesh on the way around to the front to find her pert little breasts. Mine were a lot bigger, but hers were evenly proportioned to her petite little body. The second I felt her breasts, I could feel a warm sensation between my legs. I wanted to be touched there and I knew Lynne would be the first to explore my pussy.
I pushed her back onto my bed and removed her blouse completely. Her skin glowed in the streetlight, pale and innocent. I straddled her so our pubic mounds were touching and I removed my own blouse and bra. There’s something about skin on skin that I still crave today and I couldn’t wait to feel my tits next to hers. Then, nipple to nipple, we lay on our sides and kissed again. Our breathing was faster and I didn’t want the night to end, but I was desperate to feel more of her flesh. She pushed me onto my back and her lips headed for my nipples. Her long, brown hair tickled my body and sent shivers up my spine. She kissed my breasts, sucked my nipples and I wriggled with ecstasy as she went further down my body and traced a slug-like line down my belly towards my waist.
Lynne was beautiful; her hair shone, her skin was pure white, her slight figure was innocent yet sexy and she smelt divine. I wanted to taste her. It seemed the natural thing to do and it felt so right. I lifted the bottom of her frilly skirt and tickled the inside of her thighs until I felt the silky pouch that covered her hairy mound. Lightly, I stroked the outside of her silky knickers, delving deeper between the slit, feeling for the moisture which had begun to seep through the fabric. I pulled her panties down from the top and slid my fingers between the crack. She was soaking wet, warm and inviting. I began to rub her clit, which stood high, begging to be touched. From there I slid my fingers through the canal and found her tight little hole. Keeping my thumb positioned on her erect clit, I slowly slid my fingers in and out of her hole as she wriggled with pleasure. She had to push my hand away as she was obviously approaching the point of no return and, like me, did not want the experience to end.
She pushed me onto my back and unbuttoned my trousers. I lifted my bum in the air as she pulled my trousers down around my ankles. I wished then that I had some sexy underwear instead of the Marks & Spencer cotton knickers my mum always bought me. It didn’t bother Lynne; she was more interested in what lay underneath. Her head headed south and the anticipation overwhelmed me. I could feel the blood rushing to my neck and straight to my cheeks. The tingling sensation escalated when her tongue touched my clit. She moaned as she tasted my juices and she licked gently, parting my lips with both thumbs to get a closer look. She was giving my pussy very close attention. My clit enjoyed her tongue as a finger slid down into my hole, and the sensation was out of this world. My back arched and I could feel the waves of ecstasy splashing over me like a warm shower. I panted faster as I screamed and came in her face. She licked the juices and came up for air, straight to my lips and smothered me in my own come. The taste was divine; my face was covered in my own love juice and I couldn’t wait to blend it with hers.
I pulled her cute little arse to the edge of the bed and parted her legs so the haze from the street light illuminated her glistening pussy. I parted the black pubes and kept them pushed back with my hands and, like a suckerfish, surrounded her clit with my lips. I flicked her clit faster and faster with my tongue. I was still throbbing with excitement myself and the taste of her was turning me on. I made a cone with my hand and found her soaking hole. Gently but rapidly, I rocked my wrist so the cone slid in and out of her pussy. It didn’t take her long to explode. The come squirted into my face and I licked my lips while she moaned in pleasure. I looked up and she was squeezing her tits together. I scooped up the soggy juices and dribbled some on her erect nipples, then I lay and watched her come down from whatever planet I had taken her to.
We slept peacefully again that night, not only best friends, but lovers.
Our lives have gone in different directions since the fabulous times of the eighties, but every now and again, we meet up for a girls’ weekend, just me and Lynne. Every time is like the first with this amazing woman. I will never give her up. We are now in our forties and both have great jobs, families and loving husbands who think their partners are amazing. Our carefree attitude back then has stayed with us and comes out every once in a while to be relived.
TRAINING TINA
Maria, London
She had a lot to learn when we first began our adventure together, but I didn’t mind providing her education. A mutual friend introduced us, and she caught my eye immediately, with her long, smooth legs, that shapely figure encased in a sleek grey dress, and a long neck topped by an elegant chignon of dark hair.
From the first moment I saw her, I wanted to have her kneeling before me.
I wanted to see her bound, black leather against pale skin, and I wanted to see those brown eyes widen in the curious apprehension of a pet unsure whether the next moment will bring pleasure or pain. I wanted to give her both, gift upon gift, until she wilted under my generosity.
I won’t bore you with the details of our seduction. It took some time to convince her, I admit, and in the beginning she was as flighty as a bird. The first time I bound her, wrapping her wrists tenderly in my favourite pair of thick, supple, black leather cuffs before I cinched the chain that connected them tight to the metal frame of my bed, lifting her smooth, pale arms high above her head, I could feel her pulse dancing beneath my fingers. Her eyes were glassy, and her small, pert breasts rose with each short, shallow breath. For a little while, I think she was truly afraid.
Oh, she learnt to trust me.
Over the course of the first few months, she learnt what I expect from her, and that she must respect the power I have over her. When she serves me, it is my pleasure that matters, not hers.
She learnt to find her satisfaction in giving me mine, in serving my needs and obeying my commands. She was tentative at first, as if she were a new lover learning what pleased an equal . . . but I soon put a stop to that.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I would ask her, jerking sharply on the delicate little chain I held, its other end secured to the black collar that so strikingly encircled her neck. “Get that clit in your mouth, bitch! Suck my pussy. I didn’t give you permission to stop!”
Mmm – oh, yes, she learnt. She learnt to kneel there, hands bound behind her back while I rode her face, my shaven cunt – the cunt she’d shaved for me, with brush, lather and razor – spread across her face like an open-mouthed kiss, my bare pussy lips engulfing her mouth, my juices drowning her as I smothered her, never stopping until I’d come sufficiently, and decided she was permitted to breathe.
She learnt that, if she behaved, I would reward her. She knows, if she earns it, I will give her more than anyone else possibly could. In fact, it gives me a great deal of pleasure to see her tied while I tease her. Perhaps I will use interesting toys, or sometimes just a blindfold and a few well-selected props, or even simply my hands. I will dignify her with my touch until every inch of skin is burning with anticipation, and then I will fuck her until she screams, perhaps sobs, and begs for mercy. I will reward her with as much pleasure as she can stand . . . and then just a little bit more.
All this my pet learnt when we began our journey, and yet it is a journey that is so very far from over.
It was her birthday last week. We both received gifts. Of course, she had to earn hers, and I
left her specific instructions on how to do it. If she followed them correctly, I told her, she would be well rewarded. If not . . . I would be very displeased.
When I returned home from work, I saw immediately that she had let herself in with her key. The kitchen had been cleaned, the laundry folded and put away. My outdoor shoes were positioned neatly by the front door, their laces tucked carefully inside, and beside them stood the black patent leather ankle boots I had chosen for her to wear. I always have her remove them in the house, and it pleased me to notice how spotlessly clean they were.
Upstairs, I found her kneeling at the foot of my bed in the silky black slip that I had bought for her. I don’t like to see her in a harness unless I have been the one to put her there.
“Good afternoon, pet,” I said, sliding my jacket off and dropping it to the floor.
“Good afternoon, Mistress,” she replied, and her voice sent a flutter of temptation through my pussy. I already knew how much fun I planned to have with her.
I nodded curtly. “You may tidy up my things while I take a shower.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
I kicked off my shoes and unzipped my skirt as I moved to the bathroom she had cleaned. I knew her gaze followed me – it always did, often whether I had permitted it or not. Such a bad girl.
When the stresses of my long day were scrubbed away, the hot water transforming me back to myself, I wrapped a towelling robe around my damp body and returned to the bedroom, noting all that she had done in my absence. My clothes were hung and tidy, and in the middle of the floor stood the plastic crate that contained our favourite toys. She stood beside the box, her head bowed and her hands clasped before her. She had her black stockings on, and I motioned her forwards, having her turn so I could inspect the view, and see whether she had laddered them. Truly, it was a little disappointing not to find anything to chastise her for, but she can be very careful when she tries.
“Good,” I said, removing the clip from her hair and allowing it to cascade down her pretty neck so that I could curl my fist into it and push her head forwards, bending her over before me.
I flipped up the hem of her slip, surveying the pale globes of her cheeks, and squeezed my lower lip between my teeth, wondering precisely where I should begin. After all, there are so many different ways to tease a pet that truly wants to please.
“Strip,” I commanded, letting her go. “Then lie down. I am going to bind you and blindfold you. Then we will play a game. It’s your birthday, isn’t it? That’s what people do on birthdays. If you abide by my rules, you will receive your gift. If not, you will be punished. Understood?”
“Yes, Mistress,” she breathed.
The room was warm, but her large, thick nipples were already hardening. She obeyed, and I selected two pairs of cuffs and a nice, solid, velvet blindfold from the toy box. She was pliant as I bound her, aware of how I wanted her. She took peace from it, I think, and gave a small, appreciative sigh as the cuffs snapped into place. I took one long look at her face before I slid the blindfold on, and she gazed up at me, her expression completely tranquil and full of obedient affection. I let my fingers trail her cheek, my thumb pressing against her soft lips for a brief moment.
Of our most-used toys, I selected a small suede flogger and my favourite riding crop, along with a small yet powerful bullet vibrator, and a nice, thick dildo. She squirmed as I flicked the bullet on, testing its speed and strength. The hum of its motor seemed loud in the quiet room. I moved slowly to the bed, still in my white robe. One doesn’t need a host of complicated clothes to be in charge, after all. The vibe was still buzzing as I reached down and traced it gently across the sole of her foot. She jerked, giving a small moan of surprise, and I smiled, immediately shutting the toy off.
I took the crop in my other hand and trailed it up her long, smooth, pale legs, imagining the pretty, pretty welts I could leave on her . . . like I had, so many times before.
“Here are the rules,” I said, patting the leather tip of the crop softly and swiftly against her flesh; not hard enough to sting or leave marks, not yet, but just enough to sensitize her skin. “I am going to have some fun. You might enjoy it, but you will not come. You will not come,” I repeated, an order now, as I slapped the crop down on her soft, white thigh, causing her to flinch and suppress a moan. “You will hold it back. You can hold it back, pet. You are strong . . . and you will do as I say. If you prove me wrong, I will be displeased. Do you understand?”
Her nipples had peaked pleasingly beneath my gaze, and I lifted the crop to caress them, its dark leather tip tracing the hard pink nubs.
“Yes, Mistress,” she breathed.
“Good.”
I patted at her thighs with the crop, making her open them, spreading her neat, well-groomed pussy for me. I could see how wet she was already becoming. Her folds glistened, and I wondered whether she had been anticipating this as she trudged through her dreary work day. None of her co-workers know about me. None of them know she likes to spend her time being broken to my will, giving me her body and her obedience purely for the pleasure of being owned.
“You have a pretty pussy, pet,” I told her, as I ran the crop’s flat tip ever so gently along her slit. She shuddered, and I slapped lightly at her labia in response. “Ah-ah . . . no coming, remember.”
“Yes, Mistress,” she murmured, her voice already full with desire.
I used the flogger on her first, beginning with gentle, teasing strokes that whispered across her skin, preparing it to receive the searing kiss of harder strikes, each one connecting with a satisfying tick against stomach, breasts or thighs.
“You know why I have to do this, don’t you?” I said, keeping my tone measured and my voice hard as her skin reddened, my own cunt warming in response.
She gasped out another “Yes, Mistress”, and we painted together that beautiful verbal scene that I had spent so long instructing her in. She hadn’t fully understood it when we first met. She knew what she craved – what she was curious about, what inflamed her desire – but she didn’t know why. She didn’t know how badly she needed it, how deep that need was within her, or that I could fulfil it so thoroughly.
I told her again then, as I struck her, whirling the flogger so that it smacked her spread pussy over and over, tiny tails of suede flicking cruelly at her wet opening. You need it, don’t you? Need to be punished, need my pain . . . need to be mine. Words are powerful things, and her thighs began to quiver as she strained at the cuffs, making the chains clink against my metal bedframe. Of course, I admonished her at once, with a sharp “No!” and a series of harder blows across her torso with the crop. Four red stripes soon adorned her ribs, framing her breasts and her smooth, shapely tummy.
“Don’t you dare,” I growled, letting my robe fall to the floor as I clambered up onto the bed. “Don’t you dare disobey me. I should punish you for almost fucking up like that, bitch!”
I knelt over her head and smothered her with my pussy, leaning back far enough to put my hand around her throat as she groaned and choked, yet her whole mouth still suckled desperately at me, trying to serve me. I ground against her, taking her to the edge of her limits before I pushed up, letting her breathe – but never letting her quite catch her breath – and then sinking back down, sitting on her face with as much weight as she could take.
Finally, I came hard, all but drowning her in my juices, and I almost thought I’d taken her too close. Her pussy was sopping, her thighs wet and constantly opening and closing as she struggled, caught between the need to get off and the desire to obey my command.
I called her a slut, a bad little bitch, and knelt across her while I fucked her with the thick end of the riding crop, its braided leather stained with her wetness. Her hips bucked as she squirmed, groaning and keening, but knowing better than to ask me permission for something I’d denied.
“Hold it back,” I demanded, as I withdrew the crop, unable to resist bringing it to my lips, and sucking it clean of
her delicious juices before I tossed it aside.
She whimpered, but she obeyed me. We had spent months working on that, and her control was becoming exceptional.
With her pussy wide and begging, it was easy to slip the dildo in, although she squealed as it nestled inside her; she was stretched to the limit by the heavy toy. I wanted her to feel its weight. I worked the cock slowly, my voice a constant reminder that, if she dared lose control, I would make her suffer. Her pale, slender body was almost entirely suffused with a rosy hue, the dark flush of sex and sweat sheening her throat, cheeks and chest, and the marks of the crop and flogger still evident on her skin. I think a few tears leaked from beneath the blindfold as I added the stimulation of the bullet vibrator to her clit.
Her legs kicked, she shuddered and jerked, and desperate gasps panted between her lips. I knew she wanted to beg me for permission, and yet she didn’t say a word. I was so proud of her, and my body thrummed in response. Her pleasure was mine, like all of her.
I was close to the edge when I pulled the vibrator away, pressing it to my own clit as I rammed the dildo inside her one last time, barking the order that she was to come . . . to come for me.
She did. She bellowed, wracked with violent judders as she rode the fierce wave of bliss I demanded. I came with her, panting as I pulled the dildo out and slapped her pussy and – for the first time in our play sessions – she squirted, her perfumed juices spraying over the sheets as she screamed in an agony of delight. I kept her coming and coming until she sobbed, exhausted.
Once she calmed, I unbound her and removed the blindfold. I kissed her and decided we could spend a little quiet time together before I flogged her for making such a beautiful mess. She lay still, quivering lightly against me, and we did not speak.
The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotic Confessions Page 34
