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pippimonro

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Hey! I'm kinda overwhelmed by all the messages I'm getting. So it either might take a while to get back to you, or if you don't hear back from me, I promise you I'm doing you a great big motherfuckin' favour 'cause we seriously wouldn't be a good fit - LOL!! So I've got this really strong, dominant personality. I'm super intelligent and have a wicked sense of humour. I've never been successfully dominated, and I want to be. I really long to meet a guy who finds my whole act amusing but don't take it too seriously either. Who sees it for what it is: a huge defence mechanism. A good and strong one, but one that ultimately needs to be taken down. Hopefully by my very strong, experience Dom. I take really good care of myself and need my partner to do the same. I need to by attracted to my Dom. Ideally, my Dom is physically much stronger than me. I long to be physically surrounded, overwhelmed and overpowered. But I need it from a guy who's experienced enough to know his own strength and know what he's doing. Once I've hit that sweet spot, where we're flowing and I'm down in subspace, it's like I can't stop giving myself, like I'll do anything I'm asked. I'll fucking do anything for you. I'm looking for a male Dom who's real experienced, seriously gets off on a challenge, preferably lifts weights and exercises regularly, preferably who is over six feet tall and is between 35 and 48, who's super intelligent, independent and hopefully has a dry sense of humour. I'm a first-time self-published hardcore erotica author: Violent Love
and I'm currently working on my second book. Contact me if you think we'd get off on each other:)
5/13/2016 5:08:16 PM

I was here for my eighteenth birthday, and I’ve been here since. Always with one, some, or all of my brothers. Many times in my school uniform, while they were in suits. The image of the privileged schoolgirl having a meal with her adult siblings was an accurate one, something I’ve always taken for granted and never really thought about before.
But today, walking into the women’s tastefully appointed bathroom in this same school uniform to remove my underwear at my brother’s order, I suddenly feel dirty and sexy and like the bad girl Cogan’s just accused me of being.
I look at myself in the mirror, my face flushed, my eyes shining, and my dark lashes spiked from the wet of my recent tears. My mouth red and swollen. My aching, hard nipples are pushing against the confinement of my white shirt and bra, the tartan school tie at my throat trembling with my elevated breathing.
My face, clean of the tears I’d cried earlier, licked away by my brother’s tongue.
My daydreaming’s interrupted by two elegantly dressed women opening the door to the bathroom. I whirl around, as if I’d been caught doing something wrong, and rush inside a cubicle. Brought back to the starkness of the reality of Cogan’s instructions, I quickly take off my panties, and unbuttoning my blouse the requisite amount to remove my bra, do it up again, buttoning the jacket overtop and shoving my underwear into my pocket.
I leave the cubicle and wash my hands fast, then go out to meet my guard. He takes me upstairs to one of the rooms, a smaller one with a circular booth overlooking the huge open windows and the view beyond. When I walk in the door to the room, the guard closes it behind me, staying out in the hall. I’m facing the back of the booth and the back of Cogan’s head and shoulders, his black spikey head angled downward slightly. It’s a high-backed booth, but Cogan is six foot four, so where my head would barely be seen above the back, his towers above it.
As I come around, I undo the buttons of my jacket and reach inside the pocket to pull my underwear out. He’s on his phone texting. Without looking at me he holds out his other hand and, swallowing hard, I place the balled-up bra and panties in it. I’m briefly wondering what’s gonna contain the gush between my legs without my panties, when he puts his phone away and simultaneously brings my underwear up to his nose, inhaling deeply and holding my eyes with his which are burning intensely blue.
Just at that moment, the door opens and a server comes in with an ice bucket and a bottle. My face gets really hot and I look down biting my lip. Cogan takes his time, pulling apart the bra from the panties, while I look hard at the floor and not at the guy serving the wine. Serving guy doesn’t hesitate in his motions, if he’s seeing what Cogan’s doing, he doesn’t show it. At least I don’t think he does. I am so not looking at his face that I can’t be sure. And I’m still standing here at the edge of the booth. Awkward doesn’t begin to describe what I’m feeling right now.
So after leisurely separating the bra from the panties, and at the same time tasting and approving the wine, he puts the bra in his suit pocket, then says, “Sit, Pris.” And so I slide along the bench to his left side. All the while looking out the window about waist height of the server.
Which is about when I notice that serving guy has a hard on. So he definitely saw. I close my eyes briefly in humiliation, then rivet them to the pattern on my skirt. Cogan takes my chin and pulls it up so I’m looking at him. I try really hard to blank my expression, I’m pretty sure unsuccessfully. His dark blue gaze is jewel hard as he says, “Open.” I feel confused for a second, casting around for what I can open, then I see him looking pointedly at my mouth. He’s not holding the glass of wine, though. I open anyway.
He’s holding my balled up panties. Which he pushes deliberately into my mouth.
Ok. So I thought I was humiliated before. That was nothing. My face is flame hot – so hot, I think I’m gonna pass out. My eyes are bugging out, but they’re frozen on Cogan’s tie, because I can’t look anywhere else.
He says softly, but so burning cold, “Bad girls go to bed without dinner.” He pauses. “When I’m done mine, that is.”
My head fills with this strange white static, while a growing wet spot spreads steadily, soaking the back of my skirt underneath me.
I hear Cogan say, “The lobster. One serving. And a large wooden kitchen spoon immediately. You can go,” in his quiet scary voice, and serving guy mumbles, “Yes, sir.” And leaves quickly.

5/5/2016 9:02:41 AM

There’s this huge feeling of pressure in my chest: I belong to him. I know he doesn’t take care of the other girls he fucks. And for him, caring for me is as normal as breathing. But for some reason, right now after all that intense stuff that just went down between us, it means more. So much more, like he’s the anchor in a raging storm that I didn’t even know how much I needed.
He’s looking at me questioningly and I realize he’s just asked me something. But I don’t remember what it is. All I can see is him, all I can feel is his body, huge, muscled, hot and yeah, still hard behind me. And I’m lost in the violent blue of his eyes, the expression changing, growing darker as he stares steadily back. I swallow hard, consumed again by the storm, but then I lean my whole body back into him and his arms come around me jerking me even harder back so I can feel the anchor.
He brings his hand up to my crazily swollen mouth. It looks like I overdosed on lip injections. Running his thumb around my lips he says, “Since you know so much about it, and now that you’ve emptied your stomach, maybe we should do it right.” I’m not exactly sure what he’s talking about, but it doesn’t matter because I can feel my pussy is totally up for anything he wants to give me. Actually for that matter, so is my whole being. Right down to my DNA.
He reaches past me again to turn the tap on and, taking the glass from the counter, fills it up with water.
“Drink it all.” He says softly. Keeping my eyes on his, I take the glass and glug it down.
He fills it once more. “Again.” So I repeat.
He backs up a little and takes my hair out of my ponytail. Then slides my jacket off my shoulders dropping it on the floor. My white school uniform shirt is fitted and I try not to think about how my hard nipples must look right now, since my bra is in his pocket. It’s not working, though. I can see him staring at my chest and my face is getting hot.
He takes the bottom of my skirt and tucks the end of it into the waistband, exposing my bare pussy. As my face gets even redder, he shoves two of his fingers right into me. I gasp hard, my face now on fire. I can feel a slight painful pressure where the tips of his fingers are pressing. My legs are trembling. I was soaked before. I’m even more so now.
He removes his fingers and sucks them clean, his sapphire eyes burning into me.
“Kneel.”
I go to my knees in front of him. If I stay up on my knees, my mouth is on a level with his crotch. I’m starting to get what he was talking about and the significance of the water. My heart starts pounding.
My throat is sore from the first round. My ass feels swollen and achy from my beating.
“Put both index fingers in your pussy and keep them there.” I awkwardly reach down to push my fingers in, not sure what to do with the rest of my hands. He doesn’t seem to care, ‘cause he’s moved on to undoing his pants. Just as before he shoves them down and takes his dick in his hand. But unlike before he’s going slower.
I don’t think it’s for my benefit.
Cogan brings his cock to my mouth and says, “Lick it.” So licking my lips first, I take a few laps at the head. He really is huge. Being able to see him up close like this, I’m amazed he fits into my mouth at all. “Lick the whole thing like your favorite Popsicle, baby.” So shuffling forward awkwardly, my fingers in my pussy making me off balance and really horny, I tilt my head a little as he lets go. It bobs heavy in the air at a high upward angle, and I run the flat of my tongue from the base right up to the tip, looking up at him watching me, his eyes gone hard with lust.
He steps back a little as I go down for another lick. I stop, looking up at him. Then he threads both his hands in my hair and jerks my head back. “Open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue.” As I follow his order, my eyes nearly bug out as he brings up phlegm from the back of his throat and spits it right into my mouth.
“Swallow,” he orders. I actually gulp, I’m so shocked. Why I’m shocked when I’ve just gone through the whole Roman shower thing, and, if I’m reading this right, about to go through it again, I don’t know, but I am. And because my throat is so swollen, Cogan’s mucus-y spit just sort sits in the passageway without going down. Normally that would be irritating – not to mention gross – but with my throat being so sore, it is freakishly soothing.
He taps my cheek next and says, “Ready?” With a scary light in his eye. I want to shake my head no, so I do, but I open my mouth at the same time. He laughs and shoves himself all the way down.
I would’ve thought that after all my practice earlier at this I’d be better at it; I’m not. I immediately start choking and gagging, tears come to my eyes and my nose starts filling up. Cogan’s cock glides smoothly, though, lubricated by his own phlegmy saliva in my throat.
This time he pulls outta my throat for a little longer. His head is a little tilted to the side and he takes one of his hands from my hair to trace my stretched lips around the shaft. It’s about halfway out. Then he puts his finger and thumb in a ring around my lips and pushes back and forth shallowly watching intently. After a short while of this, his hand goes back to my hair and his thrusts become more violent.
He’s holding my head locked in place. With my fingers jammed into my pussy and as I start dripping around them, I fear onto the floor, I start to moan and whimper around his thrusting cock. While choking and desperately trying to breathe, and I can’t help it, trying not to throw up.
But Cogan will make me throw up when he wants to. And in the next few seconds, he’s decided it’s time.
Just like before, he pushes his cock all the way in until my nose is buried in the rich pubic hair at his groin. He pulses only slightly, and I can’t help fighting because I can’t breathe. My hands have flown out of my pussy and I’m pushing at him. He ignores it and holds there until I start heaving. The water I drank just before comes up. This time he pulls out in a slow controlled glide, letting the water bath his dick as he tilts my head further back and continues pulling out all the way.
I’m still heaving up water, but this time it flows out of my mouth and down my chest. There’s a lot of it.
Suddenly I remember my fingers and jam them back into my pussy as fast as I can. I know, stupid to think he wouldn’t notice. But thankfully he just smiles and leans down tilting my chin up to his gaze, “I’ll let it slide, this once.”
He stands back up to his full height looking down at me and his gaze hardens, “What? No ‘thank you’?”
“Thank you, Cogan.” I say quickly, swallowing hard. And painfully. His attention goes to my throat, and I swallow again reflexively. Again with difficulty and his eyes darken. I can’t help looking at his cock bobbing slightly just in front of me. I’m pretty sure he didn’t come. His dick looks swollen and angry, the head an almost purplish hue. I slowly bring my gaze back to his.
“Take both hands out of that sloppy pussy and coat your juice all over my dick.” As soft as his whisky-smooth voice is, he sounds scary mad. I bite my lip as I do what he said. My hands are completely soaked and I wipe them down his length. “Put ‘em back.” As I do that, he grabs his cock with one hand and fists his other in my hair again. He starts jerking his cock vicious fast. His fist looks as scary as his sapphire-hard eyes, his cock goes all red, and the meaty sounds he’s making beating his thing, has me breathing really hard.
He pushes himself right up to my face so that the head is hitting my nose, almost grinding in. He’s holding me by the hair, tight, and I’m resisting a little ‘cause I’m afraid his fist is gonna overshoot and I’ll get my nose broken. One thing is I can smell him. That incredible burnt toffee smell overlaid by the salty sweet scent of my pussy – like candy popcorn. My mouth waters, and I’m still panting. I stare up at him, can’t look away as he approaches orgasm. There’s the slightest sheen of sweat on his face, his eyes are raging blue and he’s gritting his teeth, grimacing. Then he jerks back slightly, and holding my hair in his painful grip, aims the jets of his come all over my face, growling low in his throat.
He coats my entire face, even gets some in my hair. My eyelashes are sticking shut. But I have to still watch him. Watch him come down. His hold in my hair loosens a little, but he doesn’t let go yet. It only takes him a few breaths to get his breathing back to normal. His eyes have never left mine the entire time. And now I see in their depths satiation. Warring with a paradoxical insatiable desire.
The latter is mirrored by the fact that his tool is, unbelievably, still hard. Half mast, sure, but no softness detectable in the wood.
He follows my gaze to his hard on, his full mouth twisting up in his sexy knowing smirk. He pulls his pants back up, putting himself away. I don’t move from my position until he pulls me up. He takes my hands out of my pussy, brushes my skirt down, and stares with deep satisfaction at my breasts.
“Come on,” he says as he goes for the door.
I make to wash my hands, but Cogan turns back and shakes his head, drilling me with his eyes, “I want you dirty.” Then he walks out. Taking a quick look at myself in the mirror, I stop in shock. I look down ludicrously to confirm the reality of the fact that my white shirt is completely see through with the water I threw up. Something tells me Cogan planned it that way. At least I don’t smell like puke. Looking at my face, it’s covered, shiny with drying come. Very slowly I trail him into the dining room.
I am now officially looking forward to dinner ending and he hasn’t even eaten yet.

Excerpt from Violent Love by Pippi Monroe 2015  https://www.amazon.ca/Violent-Love-unconventional-erotic-Heroes-ebook/dp/B0163HTRQ6/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1462464075&sr=1-1&keywords=violent+love

GoddessClaudia
 
 Age: 26
 Dalls, Texas