Quick

"Wait here", I order the cab driver.

 I walk in and the porter is waiting.

"I understand you have my wallet?", I say in an imperious way.

I left my wallet in a cab coming back home last night and he found it.

"Yes madam"

I pick it up and walk out.

And then I turn back and walk back in.

The porter is watching me.

I get into the lift, press 9 and go up.

He is not expecting me at all but I don't care.

He opens the door, really surprised.

"What are you doing here?"

I stare at him, say nothing, drop to my knees, looking up.  

He knows what I want. He unzips his trousers and  feeds me. Right to the back of my throat. He fucks my face so feverishly I am surprised at the intensity of it.

When he finishes, his sperm trickling down my mouth, I simply get up, wipe my lips and leave. He's there, spent, with his trousers around his ankles, vulnerable. But I have to go.

"Goodbye", the porter is being polite.

"Goodbye", I say, smugly.

I get into the cab.

"Back home please"

Beautiful girl. Again. 1 of 2

We meet up at last. It's awkward at first. After all, we don't know each other at all. We just met at a silly party few weeks ago and all I did was to listen and restyle her hair.

We head to mine, tipsy and heady.

We sit on the sofa chatting. 

I touch her thigh casually. She does not move. Just stares at me, trusting. 

I know I have won her over. I feel a little callous because what I am about to do is not in any way unknowing or misguided. 

Her thigh quivers under my touch.

She closes her eyes. I look at her for a moment. She doesn't know what it is that she wants but she'll let me have her. Because I am that nice, thoughtful person, right?

Wrong.

I want her.

I stop being shy. I slide my hand between her legs. She's wearing thighs and yet, I can tell how wet she is already.

She takes my hand and urges it down, beyond the elastic. My fingers slide in ease. Dripping.

I know what I want now. I rip her tights off her. She's helping me. 

'Keep your heels on", I order. 

She does. And I like how she listens to me.

As I am confronted with the wet evidence of her desire between her legs, I am just looking at her pussy. Wet, dripping, tight, clit just protruding from the lips. I lick it casually and I get a shivering response.

So, I start teasing her with my tongue. She tastes sour, desperate and utterly delicious. Then I move up, my heavy breasts between her legs, my. One of my nipples gets coated in her pussy juice.

"Lick it", I order. She does, in little flicks of the tongue like a shy puppy. Eyes still closed.

All the while, I get this out of body feeling. I am fucking a woman.

She's back now and wants me. She grabs my hands and starts begging. I move quickly, spreading her arms with my hands. Open.

"Please, please go down on me"

I like the greed. And I do.

I open her for me. Like a toy.

Lesson

It starts gently.

His hand snakes deftly around my neck. 

I bolt, my arms pushing him away, my hands rolled in fists, small and punchy.  Leisurely, with a languid smile and closed eyes, he locks my arms behind my back with one well-thought out move.

I am now fully immobile, with my back arched.

His cock enters me from behind. I gasp and cry a little in exasperation of having been defeated so quickly.

He knows it and fucks me slowly, driving the point home.

"Stop struggling"

As if on cue, I try to bolt again, all mieowling, scratchy, resisting mess.

And all he needs to do is to tweak my arms so that I have no room for movement.

That simple.

Clearly, I am a slow learner. I hiss insults and turn my head in a defiant angle.

'Fuck you"

Then he lifts me up, gets my hips exactly how he likes them, pushes me against the wall, my entire body squashed against it, my hard nipples pressed in, his cock penetrating me so deeply that I gasp and protest loudly right until he sticks his hand in my mouth to stifle the noise and fucks me even harder in long measured strokes.

I stop resisting.

To be fair, he holds my forehead so I don't bang my head against the wall. Nice gesture.

Apart from that, lesson learned.

Zips

I stand proud and tall in his bedroom. He's behind me not touching me.

I feel his breath on neck.

"Any zips?", he asks in a curt, strictly fact-finding way.

"No"

He takes my dress slowly off me like it never belonged to me in the first place. He never rushes, you see, always taking his time.

I am waiting patiently for once.

I catch my reflection in the full length wardrobe mirror. So does he. My nipples pierce the lace bra I am wearing. You can see the goosebumps on me.

He runs his fingers along my stockinged thighs. Then he takes in the curve of my bottom. He stops in the small of my back.

He strokes my back with a single finger, from the small of my back   right up to my neck. I gasp helplessly and shiver.

"Turn around"

"No", I say, disliking the effect he has on me. My legs tremble.

The finger in the small of my back turns into a hand which unceremoniously pushes me down, face down on the bed as his hand delves between my legs, his fingers wet within seconds of opening me up.

"Legs apart"

"No", I say again, knowing full well the refusal will come with consequences.

I get severely punished for my insolence as his large hands leave angry imprints on my bottom with every stroke.

The pain is exquisite and very well deserved. As is his hard cock in my mouth, his hand grabbing my hair, long strokes deep into my throat, choking me into a tearful snotty mess, to ensure that I got the message.

Morning

We wake up. I catch his scent immediately. It's the 'I want you to fuck' smell. 

I leisurely rub against him. His cock responds to me instantly.  I arch helpfully. He likes me in a mieowling, cat-like 'please fuck me' position pretty promptly so I snake, wriggle and wrap myself around him with my legs wide open. Natural slut.

Scent

I am in bed. Knackered.

As I slowly drift into sleep, a snuggle up to the pillow and catch his scent on it. I inhale it, savouring every bit of the warm sensation.

My hand leisurely travels between my legs and I slowly start teasing myself. It doesn't take long.

I am just thinking about that time he fucked me and gagged me with his tie to stop me screaming, right on this very bed. 

I come in a shivering and satisfying mess, curl up and sleep.

Playing young

I like playing young. Nothing ever freaked out my debauched mates as my admission that every now and again madame enjoyed a bit of Daddy play. Well, stone the fucking crows.

It came so natural to me that I was unaware that this sort of thing may really spook some people. Yet, on a pragmatic level, I am a consenting adult, indulging in a bit of fantasy play. Freud once said that the father will always be a blueprint for all male relationships a woman will have, conversely, so will the mother in man's life. 

My father, a brilliant man, an intellectual, a real force of nature and ultimately flawed character, was always an immense influence in my life. He brought me up to be a mouthy, confident and utterly convinced of my brilliance, with a heartfelt conviction that I can do whatever I want to do and that a strong sense of self will get me places. In the great scheme of things, where your parents knock you and try to mould you into improved avatars of themselves, it was not bad going. Granted, he was a massive arsehole at times and treated my mother badly. But that was their relationship. I am my own person.

That said, my childhood was happy and the part of me that likes playing young, in a persverse way, wants to connect to that time, with the added layer of sexual satisfaction.

An important lover of mine unlocked it in me, instantly. After he dominated me the first time he tested me. 

"What would you like to call me?", he whispered, his breath hot and burning my cheek.

'NFI', my first response. Not fucking idea. The whole fetish universe may as well have been a Martian invasion. Totally unfamiliar.

"Master?"

"Ewww", I thought. 'I am  not in a fucking circus.'

"Daddy?"

Silence from me that spoke volumes.

"Say it"

As the word fell from my lips, the world lit up.

As he fucked me, heavy and relentless, I was calling him Daddy and loved every minute. And for the record, not once I thought about my actual Dad. I was just lost in sensation of being young, curious, sexually just on the cusp and experiencing something quite extraordinary.

As I said, nowt wrong with playing young. 

Boundaries

We wake up. I am warm and comfortable. He cuddles me and I respond by pushing into him sleepily like a kitten.

"I want to watch porn with you. Show me what you've been watching", he says.

I stiffen. No pun intended.

Watching porn is my thing. It's my private pursuit and I don't want to share. It's just something I like to be mine.

"No. It's my thing", I say and push my face into his chest shyly.

He doesn't get it. He pushes me.

"It's my thing", I repat childishly and refuse to budge.

And in the end, he takes his laptop, and starts watching it. Without me.

I am laying there, my face on his belly.

"What is it?", I ask.

"None of your business. You didn't want to watch it, did you?", he says curtly and pushes my head down.

As he fucks my face, I can hear the soundtrack to it in the background, the sordid moaning and strangers being fucked. I am totally detached. I have left my mind and oscillating somewhere on the ceiling, watching myself.

When we are done, I jump out of the bed without looking at him. I have a shower and come back to bed.

He says nothing but clearly senses that something isn't right.

In a surprisingly gentle gesture for him, he reaches out and strokes my arm. It's a quiet intimate move, unlike him.

"You haven't fucked me today yet", I say coldly in a business-like manner. I am getting my control back one way or another.

He smiles at my insatiable insolence, and flips me over, as always, ready. And he does fuck me. Narrating the porn he has just seen. Two men, one woman. My favourite. He tells me how he will take me to a sex club and watch me being used by people.

I listen to his heavy whisper, but I don't come, I keep my my eyes closed.

Then I go and have another shower. Alone in his bathroom, something happens. I start crying. Bit fat tears roll down my face. I am sobbing, my face drenched. I never cry, you see. This takes me by surprise. I am not sure why I am crying. It just comes out of me in droves, the emotion, the feeling, the heavy heart. I am quiet and exhausted by the end of it.

I come back and he asks

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, totally. Need to go."

Then I leave. It's a warm rainy day. I walk down the road and cry again, in an involuntary bout of soppiness. And then it hits me. He pushed a boundary. My secret self.