Wish I had someone to sleep with. I lay there today in my tight shorts and blouse, sleeping prone with the front door wide open to the street and my bedroom. I dreamed of someone–the tall, dark-haired driver from work, maybe–, walking in and running his hand down might ass, sensitized by the denim stretched over it. Maybe I’d be half asleep…in a fantasy, I can pretend I don’t sleep with one eye open. I picture him running his hand down my ass, and I’d try to flip over from where I slept on my stomach, one leg pulled up.
But he’s so strong that in the small of my back, one hand (so much bigger than mine), can keep me immobile. Not that I’d want to move, but common decency would otherwise require me to. Now it’s all but degrading to be dominated in such a way as to be made a slut by one hand–there’d be no denying that I like his hands on me. Maybe he’d threaten me for good measure; I’d be afraid to move or argue, even when his hand dipped low to rub where my pussy starts. God knows the shorts are so tight, the lips of my pussy are splayed on either side. Nature makes me afraid of not allowing access to insistent males…I don’t even realize when my thighs fall open, it’s just Mother Nature taking over.
When he rubs too low, almost to where my pussy is obscured by the bed, I raise my knees, just enough to allow easy access. He appreciates this gesture, and slips his whole hand beneath me to where my front faces the pillows. I raise to my hands and knees, ready for him. How can I be ready so quickly, I wonder in amazement. But he’s not. He unbuttons the dual snaps on my thin cover, my resistance to him. I shudder as my shorts slide roughly down my ass, tight as a prison. He lets out an approving grunt of pleasure, but I still haven’t had more than a peripheral glance of him. My shorts hang at my knees on the bed. I wait to see what he’ll do–he slides a hand inside my black, flowered panties. God, he follows the crack of it down, lightly running down the soft, sensitive fur until he pauses at the seeping moisture. I think he’s amused. He has the deepest, huskiest voice as he teases, “You can’t hide it,” before he dips his finger in to run along my sweet, slippery cunny. I let out a choked gasp–oh, this is heavenly. My belly squeezes over and over in arousal. As he continues back on a downward stroke, spreading my cum, I can’t help but back up to his hand. We are all merely animals; I am no better than a cat in heat. He chuckles and slips a long, narrow finger in me. I squeeze–oh God, fulfillment, but he’s not big enough!
“Please!” I gasp wildly. It’s the first I’ve spoken in this exchange of ours.
He crooks his finger.
The rush of sensation makes me arch my back until my body adapts, frustrated, realizing it was tricked, not actually fucked. A small sob leaves my throat. I’m vocal about the small things, but when it’s really heavy, I can’t make a sound. He drags his crooked finger out, leaving me breathless. I hear the button of his pants unsnap. I look over to where he stands beside the bed, to catch his zipper sliding down. Oh fuck, it’s too late for me, I think. I feel dizzy. I stay on my hands and knees, prone mouth slightly slack. I’m lost in him; he has such thick, tight muscles, open to view at his abdomen. His shirt is tight over his sinewy torso. He looks like he should be thin, but brushing up against him at work once lets me know he’s solid–the kind of man that could pin a girl down and fuck her just for foreplay.
Now his pants are off; my tongue runs over my teeth, but it’s not my mouth I feel. The ridge of his cock is visible in his strained boxers, long and pinned down one muscle-wrapped leg. It’s tantalizing. If I cupped him in my hand, I could get an idea of how tight he’d be inside me.
Damn, did I just think that? Oh well. So much for rape. He’s looking at me; now is the telling point. I’m shaking. I burrow my face in the covers, hands free to unhook and push my soaked panties down to my shorts, then onto the bed. I sit up and pull my legs under me; I look into his eyes for a moment, never leaving them as my hand reaches out, stroking the line of his cock. Oh, he’s hard. That’s for me. I lick my lips and push his boxers down, nearly moaning, and he springs up high as the boxers release him. I can’t help but stroke it, testing the taut, soft skin, the steel inside. His own lips are parted now, his breath increasing. I can barely breathe. I stand, my hand never leaving his beautiful cock, and we’re the same height–almost. He’s just tall enough, just heavier enough than me to make me feel like a little girl.
We’re close. He only stood a foot away from the bed, now I’m between both. Testing, asking permission, I brush my lips across his. I’m scared to death. He sips at my lower lip–oh damn, does he want me. His cock jerks; I slide the ball of my thumb over his slit tip, and it’s slipper. His cock head is clearly defined; the rest of my fingers wrap around it. I run them around the silky soft ridges. Then I move closer and bury the tip in my tufted, slick bush. The tips of the hair there are wet; I know they glisten in the light. His cock head burrows between, splitting my vulva and tights to form its tight cave–but he’s not onside me. My tongue flicks out and across his lower lip, tasting him as a snake smells. He grabs my sides and jerks me to him–my hand comes up between us, bracing his chest for protection–and a growl leaves his throat. His mouth is sideways on mine, then sealed, sucking, seeking the tongue that just teased his. I moan. I fight, even. How dare he, this is my space! But then he’s found it, and sucks my tongue as he would my clit. Now I can only whimper, yielding. This turns him on; he angles his cock upward, the tip teasing, just barely inside. I writhe, but it’s his choice to fuck me and he knows it. We’re tightly pushed together, his hands now brush down to my hips, holding me in place. He lifts himself–and slides just a little further inside me. I’m going to faint. He’s thick as a fist inside my slick pussy, and my nerves are exploding.
“Please!” I beg again. His hands tighten on my hips momentarily, and he’s staring into my eyes, jaw tight. In a single, sudden motion, he spins me around and shoves me back over the bed, feet spread as far apart as his shoulders . He’s bent over me. His fingers are caressing the back of my neck; my face is sideways, pressed into the bed, and then his hand is tight on the back of my neck, holding me immobile once more. His hips press me into the bed, and his tip forces my slick pussy apart again–he leans down to my ear and whispers.
“I’m going to fuck you now.”
My breath is forced out of me, small convulsions of excitement leaving no room for natural body rhythms. Only his hips move as he pushes an inch into me, then another, all, until I’m full. I ache, throb in the deep, secret female place, pulsing for his cum. His hard hand across my vulnerable neck is almost more than can handle–it tights as a fist as he slowly pulls back out, each rib of my pussy catching on the thick ring of his cock. I can barely breathe, but I shriek as he begins pistoning inside me. Each slammed stroke brings him harder against my cervix, bouncing me, forcing my pussy open again and again. He arches upward and I spasm. Oh fuck, the action makes me tingle, and the tingle builds…higher, while his hand pushing me into the bed is joined by something wet–his mouth, warm on my neck, then I scream as he bites. The pain sends me over the edge. My body is tight as a coiled spring, clenching, and it explodes, spasming around him. I’m silent but my mouth is open in a scream as I squirt around him, my cum soaking his thighs and cock, screaming each time it builds and releases. His hand leaves my neck and I bury my face in the pillows, breath sobbing. He is still…I’m panting, weak and unmoving beneath him except for the occasion shudder radiating outwards from my overwhelmed pussy, then I’m completely limp. That’s when he moves again.
God, he was waiting…waiting to drive me up again. The first slow, dragging fuck primes me, and the next one makes me emit a short, guttural cry as he throws himself into it, not bothering with restraint, his thighs slapping my ass as the bed rocks. My hand are fisted in the bedding, his on either side of mine…then his strokes grow more desperate–ah, that split-second longer thrust inside me, as his hands convulse…his breath hot on my neck as he slams into me, making me shriek again, then he screams against my neck as he holds and begins exploding deep in my pussy, each short jerk making us sloppier and wetter. I cover his hands with my own as his cum is running down my thighs, reveling in his abandoned release, each spurt a little quieter now until he’s just moaning in my ear, then a heavy weight on my sweaty body.