st. andrew.

Every time we play, I see it there.  His St. Andrew's Cross.

It's usually hidden behind a floor to ceiling abstract painting, for when platonic, non-sexual house guests come over. The large canvas is on a track, which can be rolled aside to reveal the cross behind it. The St. Andrew's Cross.  

Let me explain.  It's more of an "X", really.  A massive, eight foot high frame, with two restraining points at the top for the wrists, two at the bottom for each ankle, and sometimes one at the center, for the waist.  The lucky person being chained to it is held in a majestic, standing, spread eagle position.  If you're facing the wall, you're most likely getting flogged, spanked, or whipped.  Being restrained outwards is reserved to sexual teasing and sensory play.  At least, that's what I understand in theory.

Yes, he rolls the painting aside to reveal the x-shaped cross, every time I come over.  But, no, I've never had the pleasure of being tied to it.  It occupies my mind.  Sometimes, during other sex acts, in the same room.  Hard fucking, deep throating, pussy worship... I look over, longingly, at it's polished, dark wood, thinking how everything we do could be just a little better if I was tied to that thing while we were doing it. He seems to read my mind in every other way, except this one.  It feels deliberate; the way he presents The St. Andrew's cross, but doesn't let me indulge.  Does he think me too fragile? Does he mean to tease me?  Does he want me to beg for it?  He usually owns me right from the moment I step in the door, so I scarcely get a chance to speak up during play.  Not that he doesn't encourage me to communicate my wants and needs outside of scenes.  He most certainly does.  But, this particular desire just seems to get lost.

I think I'm scared.  I don't know if I'm ready.  Am I really kinky enough to be restrained to a St. Andrew's Cross?  It's seems so hardcore.  Do I really like pain all that much?  I think it's more the psychological power dynamic that I'm into.  The fantasy is definitely titillating, but some things are better left as vivid mental pictures you furiously jerk off to.  But, you never know until you try.   

"You will knock at 8pm.  You're mine as soon as you step in."  I stand in the hall of his condo, reading his text.  I check the time.  A couple minutes early.  Always better than a couple minutes late.  I take a deep breath.  Usually I get so immersed in the submissive experience that I have a hard time looking him in the eye, let alone speaking when I'm not being directly spoken to.  Just do it right away, I pep talk myself.  Say it before you get to that delightfully surrendered place.  Immediately.  Right when you step beyond the threshold.  Let it be the first thing that happens. Yes. Be a good communicator.  Hold space for yourself.  

The timer for 8 o'clock goes off on my phone, startling me.  My heart accelerates in my chest, and I shove my phone in my purse.  I do some last minute adjustments on my presentation, like it matters.  My clothes will be ripped off before the door even has a chance to catch behind me, and not long after that, his hands will be in my hair, my lipstick smeared all over his dick. I nervously tug at my skirt, and realize how desperately wet I am.  A smile crosses my face.

I raise my fist towards the door, and knock.  One, two, three. 

yes, sir.

I ring the doorbell.  The house looks so normal from the outside; seemingly not the house of a Sir, at all.  I wonder where your wife is tonight, where that little man of yours is, that you always seem to be putting down before chatting to me online.  
You answer the door, and instantly I feel the cumulative arousal of all our previous interactions.  The tasks you've given me over text messages, the videos and pictures we exchange via email, but most recently, our trip to the sex club, Oasis.  My bare pussy, which I've freshly shorn for tonight, grows suddenly slick.  
"Hello, Slut," you greet warmly, though with your signature confident power.  One of your large hands rests near my shoulder, then wanders towards my neck, caressing it.  Just the weight of it arouses me, knowing that you could engulf it completely in just one of your mighty fists.  Already, you put me in a submissive mind set, just by the way you assert yourself, naturally towering over me, and petting me like a dog.  "Come in."
The interior of the house seems unassuming as well, certainly not the house of avid swingers, of a polyamorous couple who play separately, and with both men and women, at that.  I step over a children's toy, on my way up the stairs to the bedroom.  
"Strip, Slut.  I want you completely naked.  Except the heels," you add.
"Yes, Sir."  Another power play.  You stay fully dressed for this part, while I remove any physical shred of protection I brought along with me.  Usually people react positively when they see my figure, but you almost completely ignore it.  My porcelain skin, shapely hips, and small round breasts are all but lost on you, while you set up the bed harness.  My face burns in shame.  I can't help but thinking that this is the bed that you are your loving wife share, and I search for a framed photograph to sharpen the mental image.  Before I find one, you turn back to me, square jaw tight, and brow furrowed with intensity.   She probably wouldn't want to see what we're going to do, anyway.  
"Hands behind your back, Slut."
"Yes, Sir."  You reach around me to fasten them together, rather than having me face away from you, which I take as a secret act of affection.  Your button down shirt grazes my bare breasts as your thick arms envelop me, in what very nearly is an embrace.  I look up to your delicious neck, and discreetly breathe in your aftershave.  My eyes close in an ecstatic daydream, in which I am worthy of your true adoration, and I get to touch and kiss the skin I now admire from afar.  A testing tug on the restraints snaps me out of it.  This is what I deserve, and I want you to administer it to me.  
You retreat to a chest of drawers, housing many toys, unlike the one I stepped over in the hallway moments ago.  Tools accumulated from years of dominating women and men, but more recently, a couple that I particularly inspired you to purchase.  As a task, you asked me to send you a list of three toys that I do not own, but would desperately like to try.  Knowing your inclination for domination, I chose accordingly.  One, you already had in your possession.  You remove the second one from the list, now, and walk it back over to me.  I feel a bead of sweat break my hairline.  
"Look familiar, Slut?"  You ask sternly, smirking.  You display them in front of me in one of your large palms.
"Yes, Sir."
"Are you going to be a good girl for me today?" 
"Yes, Sir," I answer, pussy contracting at the phrase.  I feel myself flood a little bit.  
"Keep still."  I do, in fact, I stand straighter than I've ever stood, so that you have unhindered access to my breasts.  I long for you to compliment them, caress them, devour them, but you stay focussed at the task at hand.  You go to work, fastening the two suction cups to my nipples.  
I feel each one grab as you squeeze the bulbs between your thick fingers, activating the suction.  The tug at each nipple is almost as erotic as wearing the ridiculous devices is humiliating.          I long to adjust them, but my restrained wrists leave the control squarely in your hands.
"Shake your tits for me, Slut."
I do, shimmying my shoulders slightly, and the heavy bulbs sway slightly, tugging tightly at my nipples.  I feel my bare pussy stream, and my chest redden in embarrassment.  Your eyes finally take me in, and you do so as you unbutton your shirt.  I avert my gaze, but feel the intensity of your stare on my skin.  You take your time, ogling your good little Slut, licking your lips while methodically removing your clothing.  I suppress the urge to smile, imaging your warm, wet mouth on my breasts.  But, I don't deserve it.  Instead, I get this.  
Naked now, with your erection bobbing in front of you, you relieve my hands from their binding, and instruct me to climb into place on the bed.  From the harness projecting from each corner, I assume that you want me on my back, spread eagle, but you quickly correct me.  I feel a sting across my right breast, as you flick one of the suction cups.  I gasp.
"Ass in the air, Slut."
"Yes, Sir."
"Don't move unless I tell you to, Slut.  Understand?"  Another flick, this time on my left nipple.  
"Yes, Sir," I redden further.  
"I thought you said you were going to be good for me, today."  
"Sorry, Sir."  
"You better be, Slut," you bark, finishing with one sweeping motion that hits both devices.  I clench my teeth.  I hate to be corrected.  I hate it, and at the same time, intensely desire it.  "Onto your stomach."
You expertly fasten my wrists and ankles to the bed.  Now, I feel truly vulnerable to you.  With my arms and legs bound, you now have full, unrestricted access to my body.  My glistening pussy strains, leaking uselessly. The nipple devices press uncomfortably into the mattress, but, at least I can press my mound into it, as well.  Unfortunately, you catch me, and smack me clean across my backside.  I groan.
"Don't you dare pleasure yourself, Slut.  Understand?"
"Yes, Sir."  Another smack.  My breath catches.
"You haven't demonstrated yourself to be worthy of it, yet tonight.  I'm looking for you to change my mind on that," you continue.  You hit me a third time, harder.  I moan into the mattress.  I long for you to rub the spot, no doubt growing red by now. 
"Yes, Sir."
"Now, are you going to be a good girl for me, or not?"  I prepare for another beating, but it doesn't come.  Instead you retire once more to the toy cabinet.  This time removing another object I immediately recognize, and almost as immediately regret mentioning as the third item on the list.  An anal plug with a pump attached.  The fantasy is intoxicating, but can I handle it for real?
"You've shown me some of your anal prowess online.  Isn't that right, Slut?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Now, you're going to show me what you can do, in person.  Understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Now, this is your big chance to please me.  To redeem everything you've done.  If you do this for me, I'll be very, very impressed with you.  Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir," I answer, growing nervous yet excited at the thought of being stretched open, and pleasing my Sir so completely.  My pussy has created a little pool beneath me, and I crave the ability to press it into the mattress.  You squeeze the lube over my bare ass, and it clenches with each drip.  
"Now just relax, and be a good Slut," you coo, probing my opening with the plug.  Now, I've had regular anal plugs enter me before, and it goes in easily, resting just beyond my asshole comfortably.  But the hardest part is yet to come.  "Are you ready, Slut?"
"Yes, Sir."
"You'd better be."  One squeeze of the pump, and I feel it inflate inside me.  A little fuller, sure, but nothing I can't handle.  But, I have no idea how big this thing can get.  I'm laying all my trust squarely in my Sir.  
I see you press the pump in your large fist, and again the plug inflates, testing the walls of my ass.  It's getting bigger now, and I yearn now more than ever, to pleasure my clit against the bedding.  Usually when I take this much in my ass, I'm orgasming pretty soon after, and then the girth is removed.  I can't say I've ever taken it further, and I have no idea what lies ahead.  My pussy drips freely down my legs, as I anxiously wait for the next gauge.  The sheet underneath my face is also growing damp with drool and sweat.  
Another pump, and I really feel the stretch.  I want to see; I want to see how big it is.  It feels bigger than anything I've ever had in there, and I don't know how much more I can take.  I groan wildly into the sheets.  
"Good girl," I hear you say, and I feel encouraged to continue.  I want nothing more than to please you.  It satisfies the deepest, darkest part of myself to do this for you.  
Another pump.  I moan, feeling as I might explode.  I reach for your hand, for anything, and the restraints jostle in response.  Then, I feel a hand.  On my ass cheek.  
"It's okay.  Just relax.  You're doing great.  I'm very, very impressed.  You're making Sir very proud."  My pussy creams so completely onto the mattress.  I'm a total sloppy, gorgeous mess.  Everything is so overly sensitive and tense, all you have to do is brush your hand across my ass softly, and suddenly I feel myself buck, muscles contracting, and I come loudly and desperately onto the bed. 
You free my wrists and ankles, and I am grateful.  And, I am equally as grateful for the sperm you shoot all over my face.  

sex club.

Though I'm blinded temporarily by the headlights, I think I see your thick silhouette behind the wheel, approaching the curb of my apartment building.  I shift in my heels, and adjust my short skirt.

Already, I feel the muscles in between my legs engage.  I'm beyond excited to meet you for the first time, and apparently, in more ways than one.  I don't know exactly what the night is going to hold, but I have a pretty good idea.  The car stops promptly in front of me, and a tinted window rolls down just enough for you to deliver the command, "Get in, Slut."
Before long, we pull up to Oasis Aqualounge.  I knew it.  I knew it, and yet, I still wonder if I'm really ready.  You lead the way with authority, as if you've been here many times before, as I follow sheepishly, though curiously, behind.  We walk through several poorly attended rooms, in which people are just having drinks and chatting, as I start to gain some confidence, thinking that this place isn't all it's cracked up to be.  
"This way, Slut."  You lead me upstairs, as I realize where the real party is.  Everywhere I look, there's various bodies in various states of undress, engaged in various types of sex, and my hungry eyes quickly lap it up as we keep pace towards our destination.  An attractive, slim girl is receiving oral beneath a latex skirt, as she bends deeply over the back of a couch.  Two older woman kiss passionately while groping each others' lace covered, falling breasts.  A hunky, tanned man grinds against an equally tanned woman with fake tits, which barely move as they fuck.  Several men hold themselves in their own hands, pants spayed open at the hips, stroking off while they watch.  We pass by them all too quickly for my mind to process the shock of what I'm seeing.  
"Keep up, Slut," I hear, a little far away.  I realize I'm falling behind, but I mange to spot your intimidating figure one room ahead.  And, the room is completely red. 
Red vinyl couches, red walls, and in the room's epicentre, an oversized red bed, complete with red plastic sheets.  You sit, fully clothed, amongst several writhing bodies.  As I realize that this is our final destination, my face begins to burn in renewed nervousness, matching the scarlet decor perfectly.  
"Come here, Slut.  Show me what you've got."  My pussy starts to clench, throbbing with my accelerating pulse, as I walk towards you, the clicking of my heels barely audible over the moans of pleasure and squeaking latex.  You spread your knees so that I can slot myself in between them, and you place your large hands on my hips.  They drift down slightly to my naked thighs, then back up to my skirt to feel up my naked ass.  You clench it in your powerful grip, and I feel the pull of pleasure in my pussy.  I glance around the room, relieved and encouraged that no one seems to be paying attention.  Most people are invested in their own interactions, I think, confidently, wondering what the big deal is anyhow.  You lift my skirt, putting my ass on display, and I feel a rush.  You continue to knead it in your fists, and my pussy aches to be touched next.  Luckily, you let me have it.  
You encourage me to get on top, so that I straddle you, standing over you with a heel digging into the couch on either side of your lap.  With my skirt lifted up over my hips, you pull my pussy towards your face, as I relax onto it.  I feel your warm, wet tongue probes my folds, and I feel myself drip onto your cleanly shaven face.  I see you unzip your fly beneath me, and begin to openly stroke yourself as you suck me.  You smack my ass suddenly, loudly.  If they weren't looking before, they most certainly are now.  
You continue to drive your face into my pussy, and in act of total abandon, I remove my shirt.  You reach up to grab my naked breasts, making me join the chorus, sending an ecstatic moan up into the room.  I feel the urge to bear down, as you mercilessly flick your tongue against my clit.  You want me to come.  You want me to come in front of all these people, and it strikes me both as incredibly hot, and painfully cruel.  
Knowing my weakness, one of your large fingers starts to probe my asshole, using the combination of lube and spit to coat them before going in.  I feel my face flush scarlet again, at the thought of someone, multiple people, watching me come.  I clench my eyes shut, feeling the flutter, but completely unable to stop it.  I groan wildly through gritted teeth, trying to stifle the sound of me coming all over your face.  In a public place.

"You've been a good girl tonight, Slut," you say out the car window, after you drop me off at my apartment.  
"Thank you, Sir," I respond obediently.  I want to ask when we can do it again, which club we'll try next... So many ideas flood my mind.  But, I know a good sub shouldn't ask questions, so I just bite my lip, and wave goodbye.  I see your car turn the corner, and suddenly, it's gone.  

friend date (part two).

Too drunk to drive, we hail a cab, and find ourselves suddenly silent in the backseat.  My breath catches in my throat, and my mind is racing as fast as the taxi.  Instead, I nervously reach for her hand, fingers loosely lacing in hers.  I dare only peek out of the corner of my eye, so I can't see her reaction exactly, but she doesn't pull away.  Even though my hands are slightly numb, I can still tell that much.

When we arrive, she kicks off her sandals, throws her purse on the floor, and unties her hair in one fluid motion.  Her apartment is small and messy, which Bethany quickly apologizes for.  "I've been working double shifts all week!  I usually only have the time to strip, and fall into bed at the end of the night."

"Strip, eh?" I tease, ready to stop all this talking.  "Now who's flirting?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she smiles coyly.  "I'm just telling you about perfectly mundane activities, and you're the one who keeps dreaming up fantastic circumstances..."

"CirCUMstances?  How am I expected to react when you talk like this?"

"Haha," she laughs. "You're ridiculous!"

"RiDICKulous."

"Stop it!"  She teases, trying to breathe in between giggling gasps.

"Well, what can I say?  It's hard to keep my mind out of the gutter, looking at you," I say, letting her watch me ogle her a moment.  Her chest heaves from laughing, breasts bouncing with every breath.  Her neck invites me to taste it, reflecting its soft creaminess in the lamplight.  I remember the smell of her soap, and long to bury my face in her skin.  My heart pounds in my ears as I step towards her, my pelvis leading the way.

She lets out a long sigh, finally catching her breath.  "Oh, really." 

"Really," I counter, looking at Bethany's beautiful blue eyes, almost close enough to touch noses.  I loosely lock my hands in hers again, and lean slightly forward, eyes cast down at her soft, succulent lips.  I want to feel them on me; feel her small mouth open on my skin; I want it so badly that I feel myself beginning to salivate.  But, that's not the only thing becoming wet. 

"I want to kiss you," I inform her, suddenly solemn.  She doesn't utter an answer, but instead her lips part, subtly smiling, so that only the corners of her mouth curl.  I feel her sweet breath on my face, as she slowly leans in, and softly places her plump, pouty lips against mine.  Her hands come alive simultaneously, grasping my hands in hers, as she opens her mouth, encouraging me in.  I delicately reciprocate the pressure, politely parting my lips as if asking her tongue to dance.  

Then, I feel my pelvis take the lead as before, pressing impatiently against her, and feeling her warmth through my jeans.  Her hair flutters in the breeze from electric fan, and I feel a similar wave through my body, intensity spreading through the pleasant pressure on my pussy.  My mouth moves from her lips to her warm, creamy neck, and I devour it.  Her fresh, subtle scent surrounds me.  The soft, breathy moans in my ear make my pussy tingle further, muscles tensing and coming alive as if they're reaching out to her, wanting her for their own.  I want her to remove her shirt, lifting it to feel her soft sides, and she pulls it over her head, hair catching momentarily, then dramatically cascading back over her shoulders, like it was choreographed.  

Her bound breasts are begging to be let free, barely contained in a cotton sports bra.  I kiss the cramped cleavage between them, letting my tongue slide sexily in the crevice, having never had the pleasure of touching a girl with breasts this big.  The thin material allows me to fondle her nipples with my thumbs as my mouth wanders back to her neck, then back to her wet, wanting mouth.  We kiss again, as I venture to knead a large breast in my small grip, but I quickly retreat back to the nipple, requiring two of my hands to properly fondle just one.  I remove my own shirt, savouring her warm skin against mine for the first time.  I feel a shiver, I crave the warmth so intensely, and long to bathe myself in it, wrapping myself completely in her.  I sandwich our breasts together, our torsos, even thighs, overpowering her slightly so that I back her towards the edge of the bed, inch by inch.  My tongue boldly plunges into her small mouth, as if pointing the way.

Bethany sits under me, breath laboured, and I struggle to remove my jeans, bending over her and shimmying them over my hips, kicking them quickly to the floor.  She lay back, lifting her hips to remove her skirt, and I take a place beside her, each in our bra and underwear, now.  Hers a sports bra and cotton, full bottomed panties, and I in a mismatched lace set.  I glance downward to make sure my thong isn't soaked through with wetness, my face flushed prematurely.  My eyes turn to her natural loveliness, while she turns towards me, on her side, accentuating a shapely hip.  One of my hands traces her outline, from her soft shoulder, down her delicate arm, to the valley of her waist.  She smiles seductively, and reaches out to do the same.

The contact of her hand through my hair, relaxes me so that I melt into the bed under her touch.  But, I soon brace myself against the sheets, as if using it for leverage.  She moves slightly over me, and I close my eyes, letting her hand drift over my skin, now goose pimply with anticipation.  I feel my pussy straining again, as if it has a mind of its own, begging to be touched.  Her hand lightly moves over me, almost hovering with sensual energy, pausing momentarily over the parts that make my back arch into it.  My nipples noticeably harden through my bra, and I reach around to unclasp it.  Free and anticipating, my small tits try to find her elusive grasp.  I remove my underwear as well, wanting to restrict myself no further.  

She moves over me, suddenly kissing me on the mouth with loose, luscious lips, and pressing her feminine figure into mine.  My knee lifts, my leg wrapping around her, and pulling her into me.  I feel my shaved pussy smear against her hip, my bare folds so sharply sensitive that I almost pull away.  She pushes her cotton underwear down only partially, down to her shapely thighs, wanting to feel herself against me as well.  I feel her small, blonde bush straddle my thigh, and my nipples freshly harden, rubbing against the thin material of her bra.  Our lips meet, parted in pleasure, breathing and moaning into each other's mouths.  I loosen my grip on the sheets, and grab her body instead.  Cupping her round ass in my hand, I pull her pelvis against me, my wetness covering her now glistening hip.  I lift my knee even further, sliding my clit over her silky skin.  Her legs remain pinned by her panties, but she continues to press her trimmed bush against me, softly moaning into the sheets by my shoulder.  

I straddle her, suddenly wanting her very badly, and I know exactly what it is that I want.  The two times I've slept with women, I've been accompanied by Mark, and he was usually between us.  But, not for lack of desire for the women, or any selfishness on Mark's part.  I kissed them enthusiastically, played with their breasts, even enjoyed touching their pussies, one even to orgasm.  I think I was too shy to go one step further, though, especially with someone watching.  For whatever reason, the assertive pickup artist disappeared once we got to the bedroom, despite my aching curiosity.  So it has remained, that I've always wanted to know what it was like to go down on a woman.  And, I think to myself, tonight's the night I'm going to find out.  

I peel her bra up over her sizeable tits, and they fall attractively to the sides.  I follow them, happy at the chase, moving back and forth to suck and flick each nipple with my tongue, in turn.  Bethany's hand goes to my hair again, which has an extreme calming effect on me.  I move southerly, kissing her ribs, down her hip bones, to the crevice beside her trimmed blond mound.  I make believe I can smell her already, and perhaps I can.  I knead her mons with my hand, as I continue to kiss her creamy thighs, and I can feel her pressing back into it.  I position myself below her, trying to stay fluid in motion, kissing her inner thighs, and she quite naturally opens her legs.  I lick the precious pale skin of her thigh now, as my palm presses against her fleshy mound.  From here, I take a moment to look at her.  Similar to mine, but different, folds once tucked neatly below her, now pretty and puffy, pink and engorged for me.  I lick my lips, and venture for her clit.  My hand assists, pulling upwards and pressing against pubic bone, just how I like it.  The tip of my tongue tickles the most delicate of folds near the top.  She moans, encouraging me.  Little does she know, I need very little. 

I bat the hardening little bead with the tip of my tongue, close my lips around it, give a little bit of suction, lick it with a wide, flat tongue.  She arches her back, exposing her tits to me, and grips the sheets.  I moan without realizing it.  Her taste is creamy and mild, like an extension of the rest of her skin, and I feel myself getting wet pleasing her.  My hand drifts to her opening, finding that she is streaming, too.  I tease her with my fingers, and her hips start to tilt, thrusting towards my hand, telling me something.  Her moisture begins to coat my face, and I relish it.  I lick downwards, mopping up the liquid and depositing it on her aching clit.  She continues to strain for my touch, and I give her what she wants.  I lay my fingers at her opening, and her fluids seem to draw me in.  Warm, swollen, and succulent, her walls hug my two fingers, until I find her soft, spongy g-spot.  

Liquid from my mouth and her pussy stream onto the sheets, coating my hand in the process, and I imagine my pussy dripping at the same time.  I massage her g-spot with the tips of my fingers, and my pelvis yearns for the same thing.  Suddenly, she grabs my hair, and I know this is it.  I lick her with vigour, careful to keep a steady rhythm, pulling on her hood, and wiggling the tips of my fingers inside.  For a moment, I sympathetically feel the familiar tug on my own g-spot, and I realize that I'm humping the corner of the bed.  I groan, and she accompanies me, buckling down and pulling my face towards her.  She breathes for a moment, then tenses again, pushing and bearing down on my hand.  Then, in one glorious moment, she cries out, curling forward.  I feel her pussy pulsate, twitching, and I wait until she's stopped before withdrawing.  Flopping backwards, and sighing, I carefully remove my fingers, and discreetly wipe my face on the bedspread.  She breathes heavily, and giggles softly, looking at me.  

But, it's not over. 

life's a drag.

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fun with two gay boys (re-post).

My gay friend and I might hookup.  My gay guy friend, Tim.  I know, I know...

Tim has never been with a woman before, and expressed interest in trying it.  Well, not interest, per se.  I've always been attracted to him.  His lanky, toned frame, high cheekbones, and shimmery blonde hair make me jealous and aroused at the same time.  He flirts with me constantly, and I love the male attention.  Did I mention, his personality is lovely?  Not bitchy or jaded, but open and friendly.  And I, in a not so lovely moment, kind of bullied him into admitting it, while we were drunk.  I cornered him.  After an onslaught of questions, I made him say that if he didn't have to kiss her, touch her breasts, or go down on her, that he imagined he could "get through it".  Having sex with a woman.  Get through it!  Did I mention that the woman he was talking about was Madonna?  Doesn't matter.  My vagina was alight with a devilish idea.  But, I'm not kidding myself.  I'm not expecting any sort of relationship or reciprocal attraction out of him.  I just want him to see that it's not so bad.  That I'm not so bad.  I can be very convincing when I want something.  And I desperately want to be his first.
So, we planned it!  Perhaps out of the desperation of not getting any tail in a while, he said that we could get together tonight, and "see what happens".
"No pressure, though, Emily!"  He reminds me, and I try to cool my jets.  But, it's nearly impossible for me, my desire for him excites me so.
"Haha," I giggle giddily, taunting him.  "We'll see."
"You don't mind if I bring a something?"
"All you need to bring is your hard cock,"  I reply.  He pretends to ignore it.
"What I mean is... I might need a little... support."
"Oh, sure!  I get it," I answer, winking, assuming he means booze.  I wear the sexy dress that he always compliments me on, and put on my lashes like a regular drag queen.  But, when I slide down the hall in my heels and open the door, I suddenly stop, surprised at what I see before me.  Tim, looking cute as ever, with a tight t-shirt and butt hugging jeans; no bottle in hand, but with a thick drink of water standing beside him.  A masculine, older looking man, giving a pleasing contrast to Tim's willowy tallness.  
"Are we having a party?" I ask, having already taken a couple shots to loosen up.  
"I didn't think you'd mind," Tim smiles, already looking to his rugged friend for support.  "This is Thomas," he continues, gesturing to the man that doesn't particularly strike me as gay.  But either does Tim, if that's tells you what my gaydar is like.  This new guy is masculine, attractive, with a striking jawline, and broad chest.  He has a closely cropped haircut like Tim, but in a darker colour, and a shadow of stubble dusts his face.  It's all I need to know before welcoming them both in.  
We drink, quite late into the night, flirting and laughing like old pals, and I'm wondering if Tim brought his friend over so that he wouldn't have to sleep with me.  At one point, I think I may have a better chance with Thomas.  The three of us are sitting on the couch, with me in the middle.  Candlelight casting an attractive shadow, Thomas looks deep into my eyes, as if he's searching for something, and smiles as if he's found it.  I'm feeling warm and squishy, and silently decide that I shouldn't push Tim into anything, no matter how bad I want it.  I feel shameful of how I've been acting lately.  I turn back to Tim, putting my hand on his leg, and smiling at him apologetically.   And well, Thomas may have taken that as some sort of a cue, because he takes my chin in his hand, turns my face back to his, and kisses me on the mouth.
He tastes sweet, of liquor, and his kiss is surprisingly soft, despite the stubble.  A little confused, but sauced enough to go with the flow, I kiss his powerful yet gentle jaw back, opening my mouth slightly to allow his warm tongue to enter.  It does, but only barely, as if too shy to leave its own cave.  I smile at the timidness of it, and give him mine, instead.  In the kiss, I'm feeling loose and loving, and almost forget my fair friend Tim behind me.  I turn to him, to gauge his reaction.  I realize my hand not only hasn't left his leg, but has actually migrated towards his crotch.  
"Oh!" I laugh, removing it, about to say sorry.  I expect him to want to leave, and he stands, but doesn't make a move towards the exit.  "Maybe we should call it a night?" I ask, hoping to at least save our friendship.  He replies with a relaxed smile. 
"I think the night's just beginning."
Whoa.  I get my game face on, leading them towards the bedroom.  Tim's friend Thomas kisses me again, harder this time, with intention behind it.  He begins to lift my dress up over my head.  I see Tim take off his shirt behind Thomas, revealing his toned upper body, but his eyes are on his masculine friend.  He comes up behind Thomas, lifting his shirt off as well.  Muscles flexing beneath a dark mass of chest hair, Thomas drifts down to my breasts, flicking the nipples through my bra with his tongue.  Tim takes off his jeans; I can see his long erection through his boxer briefs, seeming to stand as tall as his frame, then gets started on Thomas' pants.  He reaches around him to undo the fly, kissing his thick neck from behind, in the process.  Seeing the two men stirs something in me.  Perhaps it's the booze talking, but I feel grateful to see them expressing their attraction in front of me, happy and privileged to witness it.  Being a straight woman, I can't begin to count the possible reasons for gay guys not to, but most I hang out with simply don't engage in PDA.  And damn, it's hot.
The thick Thomas continues southerly, kneeling, kissing my pussy over my panties.  I want him, I want his mouth on me, between me; the teasing is driving me wild.  Tim apprehensively approaches, and I want him, most of all.  His smile is lopsided from the booze, and reminds me of the mismatch in their statures when I first saw them standing beside each other on the porch.  He suddenly leans around Thomas, and kisses my neck.  I lean into him, breathing in the scent of his aftershave, savouring the moment of first contact after desiring it for so long.  A moan escapes my mouth, and he laughs nervously into my neck, glancing away.  Thomas below, pulls my panties down, and lets his tongue slither in between my hungry lips.  Not as demure as when he used his tongue on my mouth, his powerful muscle overwhelms me.  My mouth opens in desire, breathing heavily, one hand in Thomas' hair beneath me, and the other holding Tim's face against mine.  Tim reaches around me, softly struggling, then finally unclasping my bra.  It falls to the carpet, and he smiles sheepishly, glancing down, beholding my breasts for the first time.  Beholding any breasts for the first time, I'm assuming.  Thomas saves him the task, by reaching up to touch them as he kisses my slickly wetting pussy.  As if any more of me can be stimulated, I boldly reach over for Tim's cock, and grope it through his underwear.  His blue eyes go wide for a second, looking at me surprised, then softly close, allowing himself to feel the pleasure without prejudice.  He takes them off, and I am happy to see his long cock nice and hard.  As I think the thought, Thomas pivots on his knees towards Tim.  He grabs Tim's dick, and works it over in his manly hands.  Tim's hips lean forward, straining for more, but I can't imagine anything stronger than Thomas's grip.  I kneel beside Thomas, and kiss his rugged mouth while he jerks Tim's lengthy cock.  It seems crazy, but I suddenly take Tim's cock in my mouth, right there beside Thomas.  He takes his dick out of his pants as well, and starts moving his hand over it while he's kneeling beside me, watching.  He stands then, removing his pants and boxers, so now I have both in front of me.  What's a girl to do? 
I take one in each hand, Thomas' thicker and shorter than Tim's, and begin jerking them both at once.  I look up at them sexily, as I lick the tip of Thomas' girthy cock now, but they are consumed in their own kiss.  Again, the feeling of awe and gratefulness comes over me as I watch the beautiful, yet stirring kiss.  Thomas's square jaw works itself against the softness of Tim's face, as Tim's delicate hand strokes Thomas's dark stubble.  I switch, watching them, swirling my tongue around Tim's thinner dick.  I go back to Thomas, opening my mouth, taking him quickly in and out a few times.  After, I do the same to Tim's.  My mouth is as wet as my pussy, and doesn't betray me.  As I blow them, I can feel the moisture dripping down my lips, and it encourages me to see their kisses intensify as I do it, brows furrowing, moaning deeply and wildly into each others' mouths.  I take more time with each of them, giving them a proper sucking, almost as if the other isn't there.  Like I would with a straight partner.  I grip the base of each in turn, tightly with my hand, bobbing my mouth on the tip, allowing the drool to coat my fist, moistening the hand job.  I guide their hand to their own cocks when I do this to the other, so no one is wanting.
Thomas bends to lift me up off my knees, encouraging me to sit on the edge of the bed.  He lustily kisses me on the mouth, perhaps enjoying the thought of tasting the both of their cocks on me.  He lays me back, his thick cock dangling in front of me, teasing the opening of my pussy, but I want Tim to do it first.  Thomas takes the cue, perhaps aware of my longing for his friend, and includes Tim in another passionate kiss, subtly leading his cock toward me.  Thomas guides the tip in, ever so slightly, so that he won't fumble with it, and nonchalantly bends to kiss my breasts, keeping an eye on Tim, as of making sure he follows through with it.  I close mine, not wanting to pressure Tim, or make him feel self conscious.  I enjoy Thomas on my tits, arching my back towards him and moaning, love the feeling of Tim's cock right about to go in.  It's driving me wild having him there.  Rather, almost there.  My hips naturally tilt upwards, trying to thrust towards him, but his cock remains elusive, dancing nervously over my slick opening.  The anticipation is nearly driving me into a frenzy, feeling myself bear down already, just with the thought of having him inside me.  And then, he lets me have it.
Slowly at first, perhaps a little unsure of how I'd like it to be done, but soon the pleasure of my pussy overwhelms him, and he starts to fuck at his own pace.  I don't want to disturb his concentration so I bite my lip, only grabbing onto his hips, encouraging him to keep going.  Ever time I moan, Thomas muffles it by kissing me on the mouth, but soon he gets a better idea.  Thomas kneels beside my head, and positions his fat cock above me.  I part my lips and take him in, holding him there, continuing to moan unsuccessfully with my mouth full, as Tim continues to fuck me.  My lips naturally move up and down his thick cock, with each of Tim's thrusts.  Thomas grabs my tits again, and I blow his cock in between gasps of ecstasy from what's happening to my pussy.  Tim thrust's have become more confident, rebounding off of me in a steady, intoxicating rhythm.  His long cock fucks me deeply, unknowingly tugging on my g-spot, and I imagine it's the wettest, loveliest thing he's ever had his cock in.  It's this thought that makes me come, suddenly and aggressively, removing Thomas' cock from my mouth to cry out.  I buckle forward, holding Thomas' thick dick tightly in my grip. every muscle seeming to contract at once. 
"Should I stop?"  Tim asks, unsure of the etiquette.  
"Fuck, no!"  I reply loosely, laughing.  He resumes fucking me for a minute or so, me gasping on the end of it, before not knowing any better, and pulling out to come on my stomach.  If he would have asked, I would have told him I was on the pill.  
Then, something amazing happens.  As I stand to wipe myself, Tim uses his lengthy limbs to crawl towards Thomas on the bed, forcing him to lie back.  Thomas' broad chest heaves, his large cock standing straight up and pulsating with every breath.  Tim rests on his elbows, and licks his fair lips in preparation.  He takes Thomas' cock easily, and I realize that Tim must have no gag reflex.  I can only fantasize how it feels to Thomas, and wish that I could experience Tim's incredible mouth on me like that.  He takes him to the hilt, his lips brushing Thomas' pelvis every time he does it.  Thomas' masculine hands grip the sheets, his large chest lifting off the mattress, straining forward.  My mouth drops, both in awe of the spectacle and in an increased effort to take the fleeting, sacred moment in.  I not only desire to know their sex, but the unnamable and unequivocal connection felt between the two men.  

Every muscle seems to flex as Thomas comes; from his gritted jaw to Tim's tight, flexing thighs.  

God, how I wish I was a gay man.  

stepfather.

Sometimes, my stepfather comes into my room at night.

Ever since my eighteenth birthday, I've been noticing a change in his attitude towards me.  For most of high school, it seemed like my he and mother couldn't get me out of the house fast enough; eagerly looking forward to the time that I would go away to college, but something's changed.  Recently I noticed his lingering gaze or hand on my arm, and he begun to suggest that I go to a local college, or even take a couple years off to think about what I really want to do.  Then, he started this new, weird routine of visiting me in my room late at night.

At first, it started off with my step dad sitting on the edge of the bed, tucking me in for bed.  He would thoughtfully draw the covers up over me, patting the tented fabric down around my body.  Though it was kind of sweet to be finally connecting with my new step father, we both realized the awkwardness of this scene, one night when he asked if I wanted him to read from a book he brought.

"I'm a little too old for that, Daddy," I had taken to calling him, as of late, at his recent suggestion.  

"This book is for grown ups, though," he went on.  "That a girl your age should read."

"Alright.  Well, maybe I can read it on my own," I suggest, not wanting to make him feel silly.  Especially since it seems so important to him.  

"That would be just fine," he replied, handing me the book, entitled, A Guide To Womanhood.  Immediately the title strikes me curious.  Maybe it will reveal some of the questions I have about becoming an adult, that I'm too embarrassed to ask my mom or step dad.  I feel my face blush crimson.  Like questions about sex.  

As soon as my step father leaves the room, I turn on the bedside lamp, and discreetly open the secret book.  And there, plain as day, are drawings of men and women's anatomy, from penises to vaginas.  I enthusiastically read on, the words describing everything from menstruation, masturbation, to intercourse, to pregnancy.  So many questions I have are answered, but it only gives birth to a hundred more.  And, most of all, I still don't know what it all feels like.  I sleepily look up at the clock, and hours have passed since I first laid my gaze on the tawdry pages.  I rub my eyes, and shut off the light, thinking I see something scurry outside my bedroom door. 

The next night, my step father tucks me in before bed, as per our newfound routine.  "Now, did you take a look at the book I gave you?"

"Yes, Daddy," I answer, feeling myself blush, at the thought of the sacred book's content.

"And, did you have any questions about anything?"  Oh, gosh.  A hundred.  But, I nervously bite my lip.

"I don't know."

"No?"

"I can't remember any."

"I see.  But, I'm sure you were curious about the things you read."  I nod.  A pregnant pause.  "Well, if you think of any, Daddy's here," he says softly, patting my leg, only the thin sheet between our touch.  Again, I notice him lingering, his warm, large hand emanating heat, even through the thin material.  I feel his eyes on me, but I avert mine, nervously.  After a moment, he takes the cue, and stands to leave.  I have an urge to call him back; to tell him that I do have questions, that I didn't mean to hurt his feelings, but I hear the door click shut behind him.  I click the lights off, adjust to lie on my side, and I notice something.  I'm a little wet in between my legs.  I take a tissue and wipe myself, thinking that I might have gotten my period suddenly, but the tissue remains white as snow.  Also, I notice a very pleasant sensation as I do so.  Remembering what I've learned from the book, I realize that I must be in a state of arousal.  Maybe this is what it means to be a woman, I think, as I suddenly notice parts of my body that I haven't paid much attention to in the past.  

He doesn't visit me for two nights; by then I finish the book, and go back and read it all over again.  I'm tucked in bed, the book beside me, wondering if I scared him off, when I hear the door softly click open.  I can't help but smile, I'm so relieved.  

"Hi sweetheart.  Thought I'd stop in to say goodnight."  I make room in the bed, and he joins me, this time resting his legs up on the bed, as well.  I feel the heat of his body against me, and I kick the sheets off of me, so that we are right next to each other.  My thigh touches his; both of us ready for bedtime in our t-shirts and underwear.  I feel a tingle between my legs, not able to keep the pictures and diagrams from the book out of my head.  For some reason, I think of the picture of a man's erect penis, and my eyes dart to his boxers, wondering now about my step father's.  "What have you been up to?"

"I've been... reading," I offer, feeling the familiar sensation of a blushing face.

"The book I gave you?"

"Yes," I admit.  He laughs, jovially.

"Yes, I was quite interested in things like that when I was your age!"

"You were?"

"Oh, yes.  I masturbated daily.  Sometimes, more than once a day."  My jaw drops in shock, recalling the explicit description of male masturbation in the book.  But, it's accompanied but a sensation of relief.  That it's okay to talk about.  That it's normal.  That it's a part of growing up.

"Lately, I thought about..."  I trail off, despite the burst of confidence, getting suddenly shy.

"Thought about what?"  

"I don't know.  Stuff from the book."

"Well, that's good, sweetheart.  You're around that age.  Is there anything you wanted to ask me?  You know I'm here to help."  I think about the last time he asked me that question, and how I couldn't make myself answer.  Well, two days older and two read-throughs wiser, I swallow, and pipe up.

"I want to know... about sex."

"Yes?"

"I mean... I read about it.  But, I want to know what it's like."

"Yes, it doesn't really do it justice on paper," he laughs, but I feel more serious about the subject.

"Like... how does it feel?"

"It feels... well, it's hard to describe.  It's different for everyone, I suppose."  He gestures with a hand, and it lands on my bare thigh.  The heaviness of his hand is so distracting, that I don't hear anything else.  I see my nipples harden through my t-shirt, and cross my arms to cover them.  I remember what I read in the book about female arousal, and recognize the symptoms in myself, for the first time, right now.  Flushed face, genitals engorged, sensitive skin.  The desire to be touched.  

I picture the hand on my thigh moving slightly between my legs, but I can't even fathom what that would feel like.  I long to grab his hand, and force it there, but my extreme uncertainly about this new thing called sex stops me.  But it's normal, I hear him say in my mind.  And he wants me to be open with him about it.  If there's anyone I should do things like that with, it's him.  Right?  I wish I could ask.  

Before I know it, he's patted me on the head, said goodnight, and is almost out the door.  "Wait," I hear myself say.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He says, approaching the bed.   

"Could I have a goodnight kiss?"  There's an expression on his face that I can't exactly read; like there's something going on inside him that I can't see.  Or maybe, it's something on the outside, but still hidden from view.  He slowly sits on the edge of the bed again, and my heart beats so heavily, that he must be able to hear it.  My mouth is slightly open, as if already taking him in, and I tilt my head back, anticipating.  He leans down to me, unsure of where to kiss me, but I show him pretty quickly where I want it.  Something comes over me, and my hand creeps up to his neck, directing his head closer, and his lips to mine.  

His lips are tight at first, but I relax mine, opening my mouth a little, like I've seen girls do in movies.  He immediately follows suit, and I feel his warm tongue enter my mouth.  The intensity of having someone's tongue inside me, makes me very wet between the legs.  I can tell even without touching, because I feel the muscles coming alive down there, almost like they are contracting, wanting to reach out or take something in.  My entire body feels different, in fact; I suddenly feel parts of me energize, like my nipples, my neck, my skin, my... pussy.  I feel like this body isn't mine.  It's his.

He slowly lays down with me, kind of beside me and on top of me at the same time, and I feel his weight against my side.  I feel his stubble against my face as we kiss, and I feel his large leg drift around mine.  I feel something else, too.  I feel the hard thing between his legs that I now know to be his erection.  I picture the diagram from the pages, the one with the plump head, thick shaft, and bulging veins; and I think I can imagine how it would feel inside me now, as my hips naturally tilt forward, pussy engorged and wanting it.  His large hands grab my unbound breasts through my t-shirt, and I feel the tingly tightening again between my legs.  I let my jaw relax into his, and his tongue explores my mouth, then drifts down my neck.  I hear myself utter a small sound, but Daddy's hand goes to my lips, silencing me.  He could do just this all night, as far as I'm concerned, and I altogether realize what those bruise marks were on the girls' necks at school.  I can't believe I never knew about this until now.  All those years spent wastefully concentrating on other marks; the ones on paper.  

He skips my clothed breasts, instead moving his mouth to my bare stomach, where he discreetly lifts the t-shirt.  He also peels down my underwear a little bit, and I feel my pussy produce that mysterious clear substance in anticipation of... I don't even know what.  He wetly kisses my hips, and I feel equally as wet between my legs.  Then, he does something surprising.  He pulls my underwear right down, exposing my naked lower half, which is just as embarrassing as it is arousing.  Even more alarmingly, he puts his mouth on me.  But, not as delicately as it sounds.  He sloppily licks and sucks at my glistening folds, making a wet mess of himself, and the bed.  I feel such an intense pressure on my genitals, that it's almost like when I have to pee.  But, before long, I stop caring about anything else.  I stop thinking about how embarrassingly wet I am, how I must taste and smell, and keep telling myself that it's all normal.  But, how could this be normal?  Are all real women getting their dripping wet pussies practically devoured by men?  It's hard to fathom.  But, if it's true, then I'm glad to enter into womanhood. But, how awkward that we are all bound by this dirty, sloppy secret called sex.

As if that isn't enough, he removes his own underwear, finally revealing the thing.  Thicker and longer than I expected, it bows under its own weight, slightly to one side.  The tips leaks out a droplet of clear liquid, similar to my own, but he doesn't seem shameful of it at all.  Maybe I will learn not to be, as well.  I have so much to learn.  He lay on top of me, though holding his weight on his elbows, and I feel his erection touch my sensitive pussy.  We kiss again and I welcome his mouth into me, but his penis doesn't go in quite yet.  In fact, it feels like he can't find my opening, as it fumbles around my wetness for a while.  I thrust forward, trying to angle myself appropriately, but it continues to slide over my lubricated folds.  He almost drives me crazy with the anticipation, until I realize that that's the whole point of this particular dance.  He knows exactly what he's doing; of course he does, and as soon as I realize it, he slips in.  

"Thatta girl," he utters, lifting himself onto his hands now, but I wish we continued to kiss, as a distraction.  I wish he was back on top of me; I liked that, liked the closeness. I suddenly feel tense and tight, and self conscious of him looking down at me.  As opposed to before, where I could feel everything, now I can't seem to feel much at all.  "Good girl," he says again.  "You're taking that really good for your first time."

"Yeah?"  I ask, encouraged by the compliment.  He knows it's my first time.  He'll take care of me.

"Yeah.  You're really good at taking Daddy's cock."  

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, sweetheart.  You're Daddy's good little girl, aren't you?"  He seems to be enjoying it, and begins to give me more, a little faster, like something's come over him.  His face contorts, and small grunts make their way past his prickly lips.  He thrusts fast and short, then almost seems to move in slow motion, as he pulls his cock out of me, cries out as if in pain, and squirts into my stomach.  It's unlike the clear liquid from before, and has a salty smell.  This sex thing sure is messy.  I almost want to laugh at its absurdity.  

"Was that good?" I ask, still looking for answers about how sex feels, because I'm not sure I did it right. 

"Great, sweetheart," he responds dreamily, kissing me on the forehead, and grabbing a tissue.  "I think you enjoyed it, too.  Didn't you?"  I nod.  I've gone silent again.  "Now, don't tell your mother, do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"If you keep it a secret, then Daddy will show you how to have an orgasm, just like he did," he says while wiping my belly clean. "Well, similar to that.  Girls are different."

"Alright, Daddy."  

"Alright, dear.  Goodnight."  He kisses me again on the hair, then steps back into his shorts, and softly shuts the door behind him.  I take a tissue and quickly blot between my legs, revealing a small spot of blood.  I know from the book, that my hymen broke.  But, it's normal.  

It's all part of becoming a woman.