lovelyesme

This is an entry in three parts- feel free to start with one-scroll down.  But I think Y/you can enjoy them any way.

esme

Three:

    There are tears, now, building in the corners of my eyes and spilling onto his crotch.    Jim clutches at my head and moans deeply, thrusting forward, shoving himself against my face. My nose is full of his foreign male scent.  I shudder.  

     “Fuck!” He pushes speech past gritted teeth.

      “That’s the plan, dude.  What do you want?  Blow job to start?  Take the pressure off?”

     Jim’s hands move to his zipper. HE stops him. “Whoa!  Here girl does the work.”  HE cups my cheek lovingly, stroking with his thumb.  “Get his cock out, miss.”

     Before HIM, I had never particularly enjoyed sucking a man’s penis.  Honestly, I thought it was fairly disgusting-although not necessarily from the hygiene point.  When you are young and not too experienced cocks tend to be gross.  I never really saw the point.  I was willing to give a polite lick now and then, hoping for a return of the favor-although that was never all it was cracked up to be either. 

In those days I usually moved pretty quickly to stroking, kissing thighs, running my breasts up stomachs, thinking: Come on, come on! Okay that’s it! And then jumping on their dicks as though I were desperate as opposed to bored.    

     Once a man forced my head back down, desperately jabbing my mouth with his cock.  Fine, I thought. All right. Another experience, right? Cross that off the list!

      Never again.   Forget it. 

     But that was before HE caught me. 

     Like everything else HE was gentle, and stopped, withdrew the moment I fought back against his hand, gagging.  HE pulled my head up to him and kissed my lips, smoothing the hair back from my forehead, kissing my temples, stroking my tongue with his.  “No more, Baby?” HE crooned in my ear.

     I shook my head, my hand groped for his penis.  I was done sucking, but I surely expected us to finish making love.  Instead, He kissed my temple again and pulled me close, next to his chest, tucking one of my legs over his hip.  I could feel the hard thrust of his penis, jutting.  He stroked my back, my hip, patted my butt, but it was soothing, calming.  Sex was, apparently, over for the night.

     Like a total idiot, I viewed this as sweet.  He thought He had pushed me too far and so had backed off completely. 

     HE continued to see me, was attentive in every way, but made no sexual overture.  Still believing it was a demonstration of great gentlemanliness, I eventually tried to make it clear I wanted him physically.  I sat on his lap, slowly moving from kissing his jaw to discreetly grinding myself against HIM.

     “You want me, Babe?”

I nodded, kissed his beautiful, sharply defined cheekbone, squirmed my ass against his cock, already hard.

     He kissed me back, beautifully, the way a girl dreams of, seducing me with tongue, and the long fingers used to stroke my breasts, pluck at my nipples.  Soon I was whimpering.  “Tell, me.  Tell me you want me.” He muttered against my lips and little knowing I was being moved another step I was happy to comply.

      “Please.  I do want you.”

     He moved, then, picking me up effortlessly, and carrying me to his  bedroom before lowering my legs to the ground.  Keeping me held hard against his solid chest he stroked me towards desperation.  I straddled one of his legs, pressing my dampness against him. 

     He sank to the floor, carrying me with him to my knees.  With my head anchored firmly in his hands he roamed my face and jaw, made love to my neck and throat, turned my ears into sensitive needy structures.  I moaned.

     He stood then, and kept one hand on my head, urging me to remain on the floor, pressing me to his crotch, my face against his rigid cock as he used his other hand to unzip.   I froze.  His hand slipped into his boxers and brought it out-long, fat, pulsing.  

     The message sank in through my sweet girlfriend/boyfriend denial.  Before I’d get that cock in my vagina again, it was going down my throat.

     But I’d come a long way since those days.  I unzipped Jim’s pants, and slid my fingers in, gently pulling his cock from his briefs, using both hands, running them over his ass, and urging his pants down as I opened my mouth and took him in. 

     “All of him, girl.”  HE says, grasping my head, shoving, forcing the man’s cock down my throat. I gag, of course, and He stroked my face lovingly, holding me in place.  “Good girl.  Take her head, Jim.  Fuck her.”

© esme 2/2011   i hope Y/you enjoy my entries.  please let me know......

Two I (changed just a wee bit):

      I hear the garage door lift. My whole body flushes with heat.  I kneel again, this time on the hard wood floor, my ass high in the air.  The door lowers.  I hear Your door slam solidly shut. Another door echoes.  I tremble.  You have never brought another with You.  I knew someday You would.

     You enter.  I hear someone’ sudden intake of breath and a muttered curse.

You bend and pat my butt, then move past, Your boots pressing close to my side.  I lean against Your legs and You chuckle.  “Reach down there man.  Touch her pussy.  You’ll shit.”

          Fingers I don’t recognize have never felt, tentatively touch my lips.  I hear a low moan and the fingers press calloused, rough against my swollen flesh.  “Damn!”

          “I can’t believe this is your wife!  I mean, damn!”

          “Explain, girl. Tell Jim here what you are.”

          “I am a sexual submissive, Sir.”  I have placed the voice now and know whose fingers are rubbing my lips, sliding just into the opening to my pussy.  Tears form in my eyes.  I don’t like this man. 

          It doesn’t matter.

          Another rush of heat and wet.

          “That means,” You say. “She likes to do what she’s told.  Right, babe?”

          I think: that You are right, You asshole, You prick. The tears flood down my face as moisture pools in his palm and I buck, helpless towards it.  I say:  “Yes Master.” And You chuckle.  Him pulls in another suck of air, stunned, still surprised and amazed despite the pose, the damp of my sex, my head on the floor.

          “Look at Him.”

          I obey. My face fills with heat.

          “Tell him what that means.” 

          My mouth is dry, my tongue awkward.  “It means I get pleasure from pleasing Him sexually.”

          “What is you safe word girl?

          I have to think.  I haven’t used it in so long.  My brain whirls to a blocked mess.  HE laughs fondly and strokes my cheek.

          “Just breathe, girl.  She hasn’t used it in a while.  A safe word means she wants to stop whatever we’re doing immediately.  When I’m doing something newer, or really pushing her, I like to know if she’s ok.”

          “On belay!” I push the words from my dry lips, relief spilling from me.

          HE laughs and pats my head, and cradles my jaw in his hand.  “What if you say: Please Sir, stop! Or I’m begging you! What then?
          I shake my head as well as possible with my head in his grip.

“Answer!”

“You will ignore me, Sir.”

You grin, and release Your hold on my head.

“Close Your eyes” You command.  I shudder in relief.

“Give me Your hand” 

I reach up, and You guide me to my feet. 

“I will put you on your stool.”

You steer me, slide a hand under my bottom as You guide me to sit. You blindfold me, which is kind.  This is a first, a new experience, and I don’t want to see.

“Step up to her.  Put your cock up in her face”

I hear him move and feel the heat from his body.  He groans.

Your hands cup the back of my head and press me forward gently until my face rests against the hard bulge of his cock.

© esme 2/2011

     You have put Your hand to the back of my neck and guided me to the bench at the end of our bed.  I kneel, hands stretched out and my face resting on the bedclothes, one cheek in Your view.  You like to see the tears seep from my eyes.   You stroke my bottom lovingly, sweeping Your hands down my flanks and I tremble, much as I have seen my horse tremble, excitement for the run ahead firing neurons, causing muscles to spasm involuntarily.  You speak quietly and leaving my head in place I move my arms to the front and then back and down releasing the catch and  lowering my jeans.  My lips are exposed and Your fingers touch the damp heat with reverence and pleasure. I hear Your breath catch just slightly.

     You employ the belt, and the crop, both the rigid, leather-wrapped shaft and the friendlier slapping end piece, at times soothing with Your hand or adding yet another level of smack. You are deliberate.  I can feel Your eyes scanning to assess for uneven color. You like my ass, in the end, to have an even, angry color highlighting the deeper marks of rod, hand or strap.  You shove my ass forward and give my upper thighs similar attention.  Some of Your blows land on my exposed pussy.  

     When I cry out Your voice quietly demands I thank You for those special ones.   

     You sit then, gather me to You and stroke me lovingly.  The tears dampen Your thigh. Your cock bulges hard beneath my cheek.  Your voice, crooning praises me, promises me. Your hand runs over my hair, Your finger outlines the edge of my jaw, the sweep of my nose, runs along my lips.  I moan and You laugh quietly.  I ache now desperately for fucking and You will not relieve that now.

When You leave I shower, shave, anoint my body with oil.  I do not bother with makeup and mascara.  I gather panties –a lace thong because You like to wrench the material against my clit and enjoy the sight of Your cock sliding past the delicate material-and a bra that offers You access to my breasts.  At some point You will cup them, move them, using the bra to balance them, perch them ready for Your hands.

I wait, wandering the hall.

                                 Copyright esme 2/2011  please feel free to share-that's a great honor to me but i ask Y/you give me credit

i felt it the first time sitting across the table from a man i thought i was seducing.  i'd beamed him signals all evening, hot and bothered from a long abstinent spell, not wanting a Relationship.  i wanted sex.  So there we were, at the coffee shop, doing the dance. He told me he had an ugly past, including ordering women who wanted drugs from him to provide sex to impress other big customers.  But he was different now, and felt horrible and made amends as best he could and i expressed my disgust. i was soaking, hot and damp between my legs and i ached, squeezing my inner thighs together, clenching my inner muscles for relief.  my nipples pressed like hard nubs against my shirt and i fell silent.

He took my hand, pulled me up out of the chair and put His hand on the small of my back, steering me to the door, the parking lot, His car, and later my knees.