Loading...Author’s Note: This is a very quick little snippet of girl-on-girl naughty, a sort of experimental sensual snack, that I wrote awhile ago and picked up this afternoon for kicks.
As always, everyone is over eighteen. You are too.
Anyhoo, hope you like it and you remember to do the vote thingie.
~*~*Jujubees: a young co-ed is bound and waiting ~*~
Just super. I’m tied naked and facedown in the middle of a bed and waiting to get fucked. Again.
Well, at least the sheets are nice. High thread count. They feel pretty good against my boobs and the side of my face – the parts of it that aren’t covered by the silk blindfold anyway.
Dee’s got this thing for silk blindfolds. When she said so the night we met, I should have smelled trouble.
But she was so pretty, so charming, and wearing such a perfectly wicked, come hither half-smile. I’d been smitten, giggling at everything she said and touching her arm to keep her attention on me while we talked in an apartment full of strangers.
I’d been so eager that I’d missed the warning signs. Yeah, it was scary for awhile there, but now I’m glad I did.
We’re playing the waiting game right now. Dee has already figured out that I need little breaks to reach the really gut-wrenching orgasms she likes to work me up to. She’s waiting for my body to settle down after our last session.
The dildos are getting a little bigger each time. I wonder if she knows I can tell.
I’d heard her car pull out of the garage a little while ago and come back a few minutes later. I smell coffee. Croissants too. Must be morning. That explains why my wrists and ankles are sore. I’ve been tied up all night.
Her stairs creak but only a little as she comes up. Her light, bare feet make a few soft brushing sounds against the hardwood floors as she comes into the bedroom. Dee’s quiet. All good little predators are.
There’s no “good morning” or “hi darling” when she stops next to the bed. Just a long slow sip of coffee, a vibrating slurp that tells me it’s hotter than she likes so she’s pulling air with it to make it drinkable.
Too hot. Sweet irony there.
It’s got me reliving last weekend and the candle wax. The marks she left are still fading from my back and stomach. She’d eaten me to the brink of orgasm several times, paused in between to drizzle molten wax in hot streaks across my body.
Pain and pleasure had twisted, blurred, merged, expanded, and finally detonated in my middle. Dee held me as I shuddered and mewled my way through a ridiculous orgasm. It was insane. And awesome.
“How do you feel?” Dee had asked while I was still quivering through the dizzy, tingly aftershocks.
“Room’s spinning,” I’d croaked, “never felt this way sober before.”
It had made her chuckle into my shoulder. “Endorphins, pet. You’re swimming in your own happy hormones. Say thank you, like a good girl.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now go ahead and relax. Have a nice catnap. We’ll start again soon.” Making me cum once was never enough for Dee.
“Aren’t you going to untie me?”
“No,” she’d answered as she lifted my head carefully, cupping the back of my neck, “Here’s a pillow though. Better?”
It was soft and relieved the kink in my neck. “Yes, thank you.”
I’d thought about asking her to untie me so I could check my skin where the wax hit me. She’d do it if I used my safeword, the one she’d made me pick way in the beginning.
Jujubees.
Yeah, it’s a little silly but I’ve always liked them. When boys in high school took me on dates to the movies I always asked for a big box of them. Then we’d sit in the back of the theater and do all the things the nuns told me not to. So jujubees and sex are linked for me.
Yeah, I was a little kinky even before I met Dee.
I hear her take another long, slow, slurpy sip from her coffee cup then set it down on the nightstand. She opens and closes one of its drawers.
“Maybe take off your clothes this time, Dee?” I ask meekly. “It’d be nice to feel your skin on mine.”
A soft thump of fabric hitting the floor before I’m done asking says she’s already thought the same thing. “Way ahead of you, girlie,” she purrs.
I hear a soft, plasticky pop – the lid of her coffee cup coming off.
“I’ve got a little surprise for you this time too, love.”
The knowledge that she’s holding a hot liquid makes me wince instinctively. “The wax burns are still tender,” I hint.
“Not what I was thinking, don’t worry.”
It’s quiet for awhile and she starts humming to herself.
I, of course, worry.
Finally, there are the familiar rustles and clicks of a strap-on dildo harness being pulled on and adjusted. It’s a demented pavlovian thing for me now. Just the sound of it turns me on and I arch my back up into the lordotic pose of some eager little animal in heat, desperate to be mounted from behind when Dee prowls on hands and knees across her bed to get behind me.
I feel the weight of her pressing down into the mattress between my tied and spread legs. Her left hand, the one she must have been holding her coffee cup with, is warmer than her right when she lifts my hips up a little higher than I can get them on my own.
It’s a submissive pose – bound, blindfolded, back curved severely for what’s about to come. Knowing what I must look like only swells and slickens me more. I’m past ready for this.
I snort my surprise into the pillow when, at last, the dildo nudges my bare lips.
It’s hot. Really hot. Oh jesus. She doesn’t have to explain but does anyway, “I was stirring my coffee with something while I was humming.”
For what seems like the hundredth time I’m amazed at how good she is at this game. Where does she come up with this stuff? Still, I’m not so sure coffee’s going to be healthy where she’s about to put it. “Dee, I don’t know if—”
“Shhhh, it’s okay, pet. I wiped it dry. Now be quiet and enjoy.” She punctuates with a forward flick of her hips and the tip of her dildo wedges into me.
Dear god in heaven. Cocks, real ones, not latex toys, are pleasantly warm. It’s a definite upside to sex with a guy. This is different though, what’s pressing at my opening is hot.
I tense my legs automatically, resisting, but Dee pulls my hips higher and pushes more firmly.
“Guuuuh,” I grunt as the heat pops inside and I buck at the absurd sensation of a coffee-warmed dildo worming its way into me.
“Guh, as in good?” Dee chuckles and sinks in a little further.
“Fucking fantastic,” I hiss.
She stops. “That better not be sarcasm,” her voice goes steely.
“Uh uh… more… please…Dee,” I babble, wriggling back and succeeding in working her hot toy deeper. It’s nowhere near enough. I need more. Much more.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Is this one bigger too?” I ask as the thick, hot length starts sinking further and further, I can feel my body straining, shifting to accommodate the length and girth. I clutch the sheets and will myself to relax, to accept.
She pauses again, whether to tease me or to let me adjust, I can’t decide. My body can’t decide either.
She’s amused now and I can hear it in her voice, “So you’ve noticed?”
She starts pushing again and it makes my answer come out between tightly pursed lips, “Yeah.”
“Then, yes, it’s bigger.” She chuckles and pauses again.
I’m panting into the bedspread with what has to be at least seven inches of toasty warm sex toy buried in me. “How-how, big is it?” I stammer, dizzy.
“Does it feel good?” she counters, pushing in a little more but I can’t tell how much. I just know that the heat is working some kind of magic and not just in my straining pussy. I can feel it radiating out into my fingers and toes.
“Fucking… hell… yeah,” I eke out between gasps.
She holds still and strokes each of my upturned butt cheeks tenderly. “Then it’s really none of your business how big it is then is it?”
I snort into the bed. From the first time she kissed me, Dee had explained that she had every intention of developing a relationship with my body that did not require me to do much thinking.
“In fact,” she’d smiled and taken a sip of her straight tequila before continuing her explanation, “it’d be best if we kept that big, college-girl brain of yours out of this. Good sex is a primal thing.”
She’d earned my faith that same night when I invited her back to my apartment. We’d peeled off our clothes and rolled around on my kitchen floor, never even making it to my bedroom. I came, clawing linoleum with one hand and clutching a kitchen table leg with the other.
From the start, Dee knew how to work all the levers and buttons god gave me. I trust her ability to make me feel good, to guide me to the fuzzy edge of my repressed needs. Still, I’m fixated on the size of the toy she’s fucking me with.
“So it’s pretty big then?” I try again.
“Love, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Her smug reply comes just as she bottoms out inside me and I feel the hot tip of her fake cock nudging at my back wall. Her hips meet the cheeks of my ass, her soft skin against mine. It’s a comforting feeling.
She holds still and the heat does what the dildo can’t do – it sinks deeper, warming my insides. Even my damned uterus is thanking her and my ovaries are starting to wonder what the fuck is going on.
We’ve sailed past pretty sex and we’re approaching religious experience. I’m dripping openly, wantonly, like a whore, juices streaming from my stuffed honeypot and trickling down my raised stomach, then wicking into the bed. I can feel my fluids are warmer thanks to Dee’s demented imagination.
This is utterly insane. And perfect.
“Ready, love?” she asks after a long while, hands sweeping up and down my back in long gentle caresses.
She’s trying to relax me for what’s coming. I know it. She knows I know it. It still works.
I nod mutely, steeling myself for her exit.
She pulls back slowly. The dildo is big enough that my struggling insides are gripping it, and I exhale through my nose as they tug along with it for a few scary moments. I bite my lip to keep from mewling out loud.
She keeps dragging it further and further out of me. I shudder and grunt when the end pops completely free and she’s just nuzzling it at my entrance again.
And, because physical pleasure isn’t enough for Dee, she starts monkeying with my head too.
“Karen? Who’s the best fuck you’ve ever had?” she whispers into my ear as she slowly drives into me again.
I don’t have to lie. “You are.”
Back out, then in again. “Whose little pussy is this?”
“Yours,” I croak.
Back out, then in again. “Do you know why it’s mine, sweetie?”
“Because, because you know how to, to make me cum more, and harder than anyone I’ve ever met.”
It’s getting difficult to form a complete sentence. My big college-girl brain is checking out. Right on schedule.
“That’s right. And how many times have I made you cum since we met?”
That one I don’t know the answer to. Even if I did, I’ve lost the ability to talk.
Back out, then in again. My hips are moving on their own, pulling away when she does, rising to meet her. We’re fucking now. My beautiful, deranged girlfriend is fucking me with a giant, coffee-heated fake cock and she’s going to make me cum all over it.
Since I never answered her question, she does it for me. “Forty-three. Forty-three times, love.” She pats one of my butt cheeks than gives it a playful follow-up swat. The soft crack makes me jump and moan. Her answer is to upshift, fucking me in longer, deeper strokes.
Speech left. Coordination goes next. I’m having trouble following her motions. I give up and collapse flat onto my stomach, still struggling to keep my back arched and lift a little to meet her. I’ve lost all sense of rhythm. It’s a dead giveaway that I’m going to cum soon and Dee picks up on it. She knows my tells.
“Is forty-four close?”
“…yeah…” I whimper.
She’s drilling into me, jamming me down into the bed with each thrust, using its bounce to catch me on the way back up and wedge her cock in deeper. I can feel my insides fluttering around her shaft and my opening clutching around her. I’m still managing to keep my hips up though, I’m getting better at that, proud of it. I’ve learned that it helps her get to all the really sensitive spots inside me.
A warm fullness starts to expand deep in my belly. I’m dilating inside. I can tell because the sensations from the middle of her hot, fake cock fade away. Now it’s just the warm girth stretching my entrance and the thick tip prodding at my very bottom with each of her giant strokes.
My fingers claw at the bedspread. My legs twitch limply on either side of her. It’s getting really good.
“Don’t fight it, honey. Let it take you,” she urges me as her fingers sink into my ass cheeks, kneading the muscles there. “Your body knows what to do. It’s okay.”
I have no choice. I’m on a ride. And I am a ride. Hers.
“…fucking… hell… Dee…” I mewl.
“Shhh, don’t talk, baby, Don’t think. Just feel. No brain. Let this gorgeous little body of yours lead the way. It knows where to go.”
She’s right, of course. I let everything else fall away. My heart thuds once and it brings a tiny moment of stillness that stretches out like the warm taffy I used to love as a little girl on the boardwalk.
My nose is full of the smells of her sweat and my sweat and coffee and the fabric softener in her sheets. I can hear us both panting. There’s the cool trickle of a bead of sex sweat rolling down my back. And the bite of her fingernails sinking into the soft, slick skin of my ass.
Dee says something like, “Good girl,” but it sounds far away, like she’s calling down a long hallway.
My heart thuds again and the moment of stillness is over.
Ecstasy rushes in to fill the void. I jerk and and buck and twist and drool into the sheets helplessly when the orgasm ignites the pleasure oozing from my pores like gasoline. I’m liquid fire and for several long, glorious seconds, I swear I’ll burn forever, a blazing beacon of joy that marks just how far one willing girl’s body can take her.
Dee reels me in slowly with kisses at the back of my neck. She strokes my shoulders while the world reorganizes itself around me.
The thing under me is a bed. It’s her above me. That pressure inside me is a—
“Uuuuuugh,” I whimper as she gingerly pulls the dildo free. It feels like forever and when it’s over my poor little pussy spasms and twitches, struggling to close again.
After much stroking and a few more kisses, Dee rises from the bed and ruffles my hair. “Good?”
“Fucking rockstar, Dee.”
“Sure you don’t want some Jujubees, honey?”
“Hell no,” I giggle weakly.
“That’s my girl,” she pats me, strokes my cheek, then I listen to the little brushing sounds of her feet leaving.
When she’s gone, I’m tied naked and facedown in the middle of a bed and waiting to get fucked. Again.