This story was one of those rare ones that *really* got to me when I wrote it and when I read it. It took place in my early 20′s, and I was a wreck. Thankfully things are wonderful now, but sometimes it’s good to look back and see how far you’ve really come.
This is so fucking cool that I just had to share it:
Rock the fuck on!
We’re flopped on the couch, watching movies, but even following the plot seems like too much effort.
“If it weren’t so damn hot, I’d wanna fuck,” Nick says, tilting the fan to blow across our faces.
“Me too, I answer, “But ugggggh.” I get up to refresh our drinks.
“Lots of ice this time,” he calls out.
I return, handing Nick his drink, the glass already dripping with condensation. A dribble falls on his belly and slides down, disappearing under the waist of his shorts. I’m suddenly mesmerized.
I fish one ice cube from my glass and hold it between my fingers. I place it on his neck and he shudders with pleasure. I drag the ice slowly along the top of his shoulder, it melts into a little cascade down his chest. I grab another. Continue reading
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I look at Shane incredulously. He nods enthusiastically, his eyes bright and eager. I always try to be a good sport about trying new things, but this one throws me. I say that I’ll think about it and get back to him.
Every time I shower for the next couple weeks I try to pee standing up. It’s not easy. As a girl it’s been so completely ingrained to sit that I can only force out a few pathetic drops. This isn’t going to satisfy anyone. The girls in the porn flicks seem to piss out gallons and I know that’s what Shane wants. I watch video after video of girls peeing on girls, girls peeing on guys and every other combination.
I keep trying. Shane asks me occasionally how it’s going. I notice the hope in his eyes when I have to pee right before sex, and the disappointment when I tell him I’m not ready yet.
One day, I drink two big glasses of water and hold it until I’m nearly ready to burst, then I get in the shower. I hold the shower head between my legs and close my eyes. As I relax, it pours out of me in a big warm stream.
I tell Shane I’m ready. Continue reading
My heart stops, I’m plunged into memories.
There you are, dressed for the prom, your arm around her. I’ve not seen a single photo of you in more than twenty years. Every memento I had of you, every photo, every note we passed in class, was destroyed by a jealous boyfriend back when we were still young.
He was right to be suspicious.
You were my first boyfriend, you sat in front of me in seventh grade Mythology. I’ve made this into my own myth. Tall, taller even then me, brown eyes, brown hair, people asked if we were brother and sister. “He’s trouble,” is what everyone said when I’d mention your name.
Notes passed back and forth until the first snowfall, our first kiss. I mimicked what I saw in movies, wide hungry mouth, hands pressing the back of your head. I shoved my tongue down your throat until you pushed me away.
Practice made perfect. Continue reading
Blood lust boils to the surface, emerges as you pin my shoulders to the bed. All cruel things, all dark intents are given fresh life in your eyes. Channeled down from your brain to your hands to my body, your thoughts become my reality.
I want to ache from your whims. Wrap your fingers in my hair, compel me to be still. Hold the vibrator to my clit until I’ve spent every last drop of fluid, then force me to come again. Fingers, cock, dildos, fists, cram it all in, stretch me to the limit. Fill me with you.
Restrain me. Make my hands useless little clenching butterflies. Pin me to the bed like a specimen to be opened and examined. Tie the ropes tighter. Make me ache to wrap my legs around your waist, to pull you closer.
Leave me a drooling, mewling mess. Let my cries and screams and moans be muffled. Watch me choke on your cock, tears rolling down my face. Hold my head tight against your groin as your dick tickles the back of my throat.
Clamps on my nipples, my breasts, the tender inside skin of my wrists. Make the clothespins on my cunt clatter as you fuck me. Blindfold me, take away my sight. All your movements become meaningless blurs and shadows. Noises sharpen, even familiar sounds amplify, create equal fright and longing.
I want my suffering to please you as much as my coming. Shower me with little kisses. Wipe away the drool and the snot and the come and tell me I’m your good girl. Such a good girl.
