“That looks like consent to me, sugar, but I want to hear you say it.”
“I want you,” I said. It just slipped out. I wasn’t feeling very eloquent.
It seemed like enough though, because she smiled and said, “And what should I do with you, baby girl? Hey, by the way, how old are you anyway?”
It was hard for me to remember my own name at that moment, but I answered her, dazed, “Twenty-five?”
She whistled softly and said, “Damn, girl, I’m old enough to be your mother.” And then, “Actually, you’re younger than my daughter.”
I was thrown off balance. I did not want to be thinking about this woman being my mother…maybe my daddy, but not my mother.
“You have a kid?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too shocked.
“Yeah, I didn’t raise her though. Gave her up for adoption. I was only fourteen when I had her.” I could sense everything she wasn’t saying in the way her body had pulled away slightly, the way she wouldn’t meet my eye. I turned her face toward me and kissed her softly on her mouth, letting her know that her having a kid older than I was didn’t stop me wanting her. She ran her hands over my hips, pulled me into her. I moaned into her mouth, I couldn’t help it. I was so turned on I felt shaky. I could feel my pussy dripping puddles into the crotch of my jeans.
She broke the kiss and tilted my head back to get at my neck. She kissed me lightly, leaving a trail of moisture on my skin from her parted lips. Then she was at my ear, nuzzling me, whispering, “What do you want, sweetheart? What can I do for you?”
I started blushing furiously. Where was the confident girl who had worked so hard to be able to say what she wanted? I couldn’t find her. I managed to whisper, “I want you to rough me up.”
“Yeah?” she said. I could hear the edge of tension and excitement in her voice. “What does that mean to you, baby? Give me more.”
“Ummmm,” was all that would come out of my mouth. My face was still hot and I bit my lip. Why did this woman make me so nervous? I looked down and noticed the wide leather belt she was wearing. I felt my pussy clench as the inspiration hit me.
I slowly raised my eyes to hers.
“What is it, girl? You can tell me.”
I took a deep breath and blurted out, “You could hit me with your belt.”
I felt like an idiot, but she smiled and leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. She said, “Are you going to let me fuck you too, or do you just want me to hurt you?”
I wanted to spread my legs for her right there, show her how wet she was getting me. Instead, I tried to get a hold on myself and said, “No, I definitely want you to fuck me.” My voice was still shaky.
“Are you going to be able to tell me if I do something you don’t like, or if you want me to stop? You want a special word or something?”
I wanted this so bad and I wasn’t in the mood to pretend I didn’t. “No, I don’t need a safeword,” I said. “I’ll just tell you if I want you to stop.”
“All right. Take off your pants.”
My fingers trembled as I undid the fly of my jeans and wiggled them over my hips. I left my panties on, since I hadn’t been instructed otherwise, and I was sure there was a huge wet spot spreading up the front.
Arms still across her chest, she looked me up and down. “Lean over that desk and stick your ass out for me.” I did as she said, pushing the papers and clipboards to the side. “Spread your legs wider.” I spread my legs as wide as they could go, my back arched. The air felt cold on the soaked crotch of my panties.
I heard the leather of her boots creak as she pushed off from the wall to stand behind me. “Damn, this is a pretty picture.” She hooked her finger under the crotch of my panties and ran her knuckle up and down my slit. We moaned at the same time, hers a growl, mine a whimper in the back of my throat.
I wanted more, I wanted her whole hand inside me, but she took her finger away. Sliding my panties down over my hips, she whistled again, low under her breath. I imagined what she was seeing, my bare ass up in the air, legs apart; my pussy spread open, exposed.
I could hear her unbuckling her belt and sliding it slowly from the loops. My legs turned to jelly. I was glad I was lying down across this desk because I probably couldn’t have stood if I wanted to. She trailed the belt down my lower back, across the crack of my ass, the tip brushing my pussy lips. She brought it between my legs and rubbed it back and forth, getting the leather wet with my juices. She pulled it back and tapped it lightly against my thighs, making a wet sticky sound on impact.
“All right, sweet thing. We’re going to start out slow, a round of five and then we check in. You okay with that?”
I would have rather she waled on me, but the words to explain this escaped me. I nodded my head and said, “Yeah, that sounds good.”
She didn’t hold out on me though. When the belt came down, it came down hard. The first stroke made my knees buckle. My body shuddered at the pain so sharp it drove me crazy, overwhelming me as it quickly turned to pleasure, making my cunt ache, my clit pulse. She followed the first stroke with another four, crisscrossing my ass.
“You want more?” She ran her hand over my ass, feeling the heat.
“Yes, please? Yes,” I said, moving my ass back and forth.
She started really going for it, harder and faster, making me cry out with each hit. She passed the fifth stroke and went on to the sixth, starting in on my thighs, barely missing my pussy. My body rocked forward with each hit. I was wondering if I could take more when she reached ten and stopped.
Her hand felt cool on my ass, tracing the welts. “Your ass looks beautiful all marked up.” I could feel her lean closer, scrutinizing the marks. “Damn, girl, you’re already starting to bruise! Are you ready to get fucked yet?” Her hand slid down to my pussy, checking how wet I was getting. I pushed myself back at her, trying to get her fingers inside me, but her hand evaded me.
My endorphins were kicking in and I felt more relaxed and more shaky at the same time, and also kind of silly. Little giggles were sneaking in between my moans. I bit my lip trying to stop.
“What are you giggling about?” She slapped my ass with her hand, making me gasp. “Do you want to get fucked or not?”
“Yes! Please…”
“Roll over.” She slapped my ass again and I rolled over, trying to arrange my sore cheeks on the cool surface of the desk. She pushed over one of the office chairs, parked it in front of my spread legs and sat in it. She leaned back and looked up at me.
“Take your shirt and your bra off. I want to see your tits.”
I pulled my shirt up over my head and unhooked my bra, letting my double Ds down slowly onto my belly.
“You are so beautiful,” she said. One of her hands was resting between her thighs, her thumb running back and forth over the seam of her crotch. “Play with your tits for me, baby. Give me a show.”
I could feel my face heat up again, if I had ever stopped blushing in the first place. This woman could make things I had done before, of my own volition, seem new, and so dirty. I lifted my tits up and pushed them together, grabbing my nipples between my thumb and forefinger, twisting and pulling them. I watched her watching me, getting hot on getting her hot.
She reached up and stroked my thighs, pulling them further apart, spreading my pussy wider. Leaning back, she said, “Come sit on my lap, sweetheart.”
I got up from the desk and straddled her legs. She grabbed my sensitive ass and pulled me down onto her, hard, grinding my pussy into the fly of her jeans.
“Ohh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I said.
“I’m getting there, baby, I’m getting there,” she chuckled. She held my tits up to her mouth, pressing them together so she could get both my nipples into her mouth at the same time. I leaned back, bracing myself, holding her knees, and rode her lap for real.
“Don’t come yet, girl. I haven’t even fucked you yet.” She reached down to my pussy and I raised myself up to give her access. She s
lid two of her big fingers up my cunt and started fucking me with hard, fast strokes.
I lost it, if I had ever had it around her in the first place. I started moaning, loud, my breathing all over the place, too fast. I was losing my war with hyperventilation and I was getting dizzy. She grabbed the back of my neck, forcing me to look into her eyes. “Slow your breath down, honey. Breathe with me.” She started breathing real deep and slow, her hand pumping in and out of my pussy slower, but still hard and deep.
I was whining, feeling like a brat but not able to stop. I tried to breathe deeper, slower, drawing the air down to my pussy. It made me even dizzier. I leaned forward, resting my head on her shoulder.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Her fingers stopped moving inside me. I felt embarrassed. She kissed my neck and shoulder, stroked my back with her free hand. “You want to try something else?”
“Like what?” I asked, nuzzling my face into her neck. I could smell her skin and my lips parted to taste it.
“Mmm, that feels good,” she said, her hand tangled in my hair. “I was thinking about how much I would love to eat this dripping pussy of yours.” She curled her fingers gently inside me, making me moan into her neck. “Would you like that? You want to sit on my face, darlin’?”
I was still feeling shy. I made an affirmative noise and she guided me to sit up. I angled my hips so she could pull her fingers out of my cunt, leaving me feeling empty. I got off her lap and leaned against the desk, aware of how naked I was.
She went over and grabbed her coat, one of those jean jackets with the fake sheep lining. She laid it on the ground, positioning herself so there was plenty of jacket on either side of her head for my knees to rest on. I smiled at her chivalry.
“Come on down, sugar.”
My legs felt shaky, like a newborn colt’s. I managed to straddle her face without hurting her or myself. Her hands grabbed my hips, trying to pull me down to her mouth. I giggled and fell forward, catching myself with my hands, raising my ass in the air.
“Come on, give it to me,” she said. I lowered myself down to her mouth and felt her tongue part my lips, licking from my pussy hole up to my swollen clit. She sucked my clit into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it in circles. I started humping her face, making her work my clit harder.
It was then that I realized I had to piss. I panicked, not knowing how to stop the action, not wanting to. She stuck her tongue up my pussy and I bounced up and down on her face.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” I knew I couldn’t hold it much longer. I stopped moving and raised myself up off her mouth. “I have to piss, I’m so sorry. I’ll be right back, I promise.”
Her hands on my hips tightened. “You’re not going anywhere.” She tried to pull me back down to her tongue.
“I’m serious, I have to piss! I can’t hold it!” I felt close to hysteria.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t hold it,” she said, craning her neck up to get at me, licking my pussy lips. Her tongue went between my clit and my hole, putting pressure on my urethra.
“You want me to piss on your face?”
“Uh-huh.”
I was looking down at her, trying to make eye contact. When she looked up at me her eyes were hard, laced with steel. I’d seen that look before during pervy sex. It said, I dare you to say no, call me a freak, walk out on me.
I wasn’t going to say no. I also wasn’t going to think about what we would do after, piss covering my legs, her face, her hair, her jacket, the floor. I rested more of my weight on her face and she went back to working my clit, sucking me into her mouth, grazing me with her teeth.
It was crazy, this building of pressure in my bladder and cunt. I let her build me up more. I wanted to come as I pissed, something I had wanted since before I knew what orgasms were, as a little girl touching my clit while pissing in the woods.
She was lapping at my pussy now, rocking me into her face with her hands, wanting me to let go. Her hands strayed to my ass crack, spreading me open, brushing my asshole with her fingertips.
That was it. I started coming. My piss squirted out of me in spurts, timed with the contractions of my orgasm. I tried to raise myself up, give her the choice not to get it all in her mouth, but she held me down, lapping it up, licking my clit, drawing my orgasm out. It felt like I pissed forever. She kept her face there the whole time, loving every second, rubbing herself into me.
When my waterworks were finally done, I rolled off of her and groaned, finding my legs even weaker than before. “I don’t think I can walk after that,” I said, lying down beside her, curling my naked body around her fully clothed one.
She laughed and held me tight. “That’s okay, baby. You can take the inventory on the bottom shelves and I’ll take the top ones.”
A SLAP IN THE FACE
Rachel Kramer Bussel
Jade strolled into the bar, walked straight up to Amber, who was leaning against it wearing a slinky leopard-print slip, ripped fishnet stockings, a see-through black top along with a sheer black bra, and dangerously tall black heels, her red hair gleaming even in the low lights, and slapped her across the face. The sound was louder than Jade had expected, the sting in her palm stronger, both of which she liked. Amber didn’t smile, not with her mouth, anyway, but Jade knew exactly how much she’d liked the slap. She could read it in the way Amber shivered, the way Amber’s eyes skittered from the ground and, for a second, up to hers, from the way her body radiated a heady combination of fear, awe, and desire.
This was not a kinky bar. It wasn’t a dyke or queer bar, either. It was your average Brooklyn dive bar, filled with its mix of colorful high-glam hipsters in everything from hot pants to schoolgirl skirts, older white guys with huge beer steins who seemed like they’d been sitting there since before either woman was born, parents stealing a late-night cocktail before the babysitter had to go home. And Jade and Amber had shared a stormy, kinky relationship of six months, one that Jade wanted to last even though she had no idea if they would blaze through all the intense passion zinging between them too fast and have nothing left, or if they could find ways to keep it going. She was trying to live in the moment, and this scene was part of her new mission. She kept any trembling she felt on the inside steady as she stared down at the girl who’d given so much of herself, but was always looking to give more.
To anyone watching, it would’ve looked like what it was: a slap in the face, a blow across her cheek, something at least a little mean, harsh, powerful, something that must have hurt and brought tears to Amber’s eyes. And it was, certainly, all of those things—Jade would never have denied that it was one of the most powerful ways you could strike someone—but it wasn’t unwanted; in fact, Amber thought it was the hottest thing she’d ever done, and she’d been to, and participated in, her share of extreme play parties. She looked up at Jade and realized that her fantasies had been fulfilled, technically, but not all the way; her face tingled in anticipation of the next slap. She suddenly wished she’d worn her matching leopard-print panties, the silky ones that rode up her ass, because her wetness was starting to trickle down her thigh. She liked it, even more than when Jade slapped her at home; she liked it so much she was torn between stepping between Jade’s jeans-clad legs and pressing their bodies tight together and what she wound up choosing, looking right up into her girlfriend’s eyes, letting her see the tears that shimmered there.
“You want me to slap you again, don’t you?” Jade’s voice was low, deep, quiet enough that only Amber could hear. Jade kept the tremor out of it, the awe that this creature was letting her do the most wicked things to her and kept wanting to push the envelope.
“Yes, Jade, I do.” Amber let a tear fall because she didn’t totally understand why she liked it, she just knew she did, and she wanted people to know. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. She couldn’t honestly say she wanted people to know about her predilection for being smacked, but the fact that now, finally, they did, af
ter so many months of fantasizing, made her pussy feel like it was both tightening and expanding all at once.
This time, Jade tenderly held her hand against one of Amber’s cheeks, the pristine one, and with the other raked her short nails down the edge of the other. She waited, toying with her, trying to ignore their surroundings, because the exhibitionism was really Amber’s thing, though she couldn’t deny she got a small thrill from being so controlling in so public a location. Then she did it again, a smack that reverberated through her palm, skin striking skin, and again. Jade stepped forward and shoved her knee between Amber’s legs, pressed her mouth against her ear. “Thank me for it, or I won’t do it again.”
“Thank you, Jade. I love you.” Amber hadn’t meant to say that, but it came out in a rush. There were moments when she was afraid of Jade, but she liked those moments, she liked the way those moments spurred her on to be more daring, to let herself get pushed farther off what felt like a precipice, until everything she had was Jade’s for the taking.
“Let’s go,” Jade said, plucking Amber’s half-full glass from her hand and placing it on the bar, then rushing her outside, while Amber scrambled to put her pink fake-fur coat back on before they entered the chilly night. Jade would’ve stayed, but what was bubbling up inside her was too fierce for public consumption. There’s no way the patrons of that bar would ever have understood what she wanted to do to Amber; the truth was, she hardly understood it herself, but she knew it filled something primal within her, something that made her feel like she was enacting an ancient ritual, a hunt-orbe-hunted animalistic desire to go for the kill. Slapping Amber, beating her, tying her down, choking her, all took Jade’s breath away as much as they did Amber’s, though she didn’t have the freedom to show it quite as much. “Why are you shaking?” Amber had once asked after a particularly cruel, intense scene. Jade had just shaken her head, not having any further answer.
This time, she wanted Amber quiet, even though she usually loved the noises the girl made. She pulled Amber into an alley she’d scoped out beforehand. The wind whipped around them as Jade pressed Amber against the brick, then slapped her face as hard as she could. Amber let out a cry, her nostrils flaring, her body straining against its own desires. Jade knew there was a part of Amber that was horrified at just how much she liked being slapped, and an even bigger part that was in awe of how little it took for the sensitive skin on her face to make her dizzyingly wet. Amber liked to be hit all over her body, but there were some spots she liked best. Her face. Her pussy. Her tits, especially the nipples, all areas Jade had mostly shied away from with her previous play partners, by request.
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