Jilling Off

I ask him to tie me up and he does, swift knots expertly tied. He’s done this before. He takes my nipple in his mouth, sucking greedily, then pulls back and slaps my breast hard. I moan in pleasure, writhing under his body as he smacks me again and again, then shoves his fingers hard into my cunt. I come almost instantly, tremours shaking me all over, but he keeps going, working his fingers inside me, kissing me roughly, watching me twist and groan underneath him. He pulls his fingers out and abruptly slaps me on my cunt, laughing at my obvious pleasure.

“I love the way your pussy responds to me,” he says, kissing me again, beard rough on my face and neck and breasts. One hand pulls my legs apart again, and his fingers slide across my clit so that I come again. The other hand locks around my neck, choking me. I close my eyes and give in to the pleasure, surrendering completely to his control. I can no longer tell how many fingers he has in me or how many times I’ve come. Everything is just a blur of wave after wave of climaxes. This is exactly how I’ve always wanted it to be.

There is something immensely satisfying about having muscles that ache from having them up in the air as a boy thrusts into you, pounds his cock into you so hard that your head is pushed back off the pillows and slips between the bars of your headboard. He tells you that he wants to fuck you from behind so you get on your knees and he pushes deep, deep inside of you. He asks if you want to ride him so you can watch him looking up at you in awe. But really, what you want is him pushing down on you again, covering your body with his, filling your world, filling up your head as he fills your cunt. You haven’t been fucked this hard for a very long time and it is fantastic, to lie back, to watch him do all the work, to feel your whole body shake. The slap of his body against yours makes your vision go blurry and you run your fingernails down his back and when he speeds up, faster and faster, you twist his nipples so that he comes, groaning, moaning, so much louder and more tangible than previous partners.

And the buildup was so simple, so direct, and yet you still got tingles when his hands went around your waist. There are no complications here, if we exclude your emotional baggage, so yes, the thrill of the chase may be missing, but this might actually grow into something that’s real, something you can keep and not have to return at the end of each night. And if it doesn’t, there’s no harm done, and a damn good fucking had.

A friend and I are in the lounge trying to decide where we want to have dinner that day, and I realise that I need to ask the boy that I am living with now, the boy who who shares my bed most nights, so I head to his room at the back of the house. He’s working on his computer as normal, so when we’ve finished our discussion I put my arms around him and kiss him on the forehead like I often do. I’m still overwhelmed that he exists, that I can touch him at almost any time, so I slide one hand down to his crotch, and start stroking his crotch, lightly. So often he’d push my hand away and tell me that I was “being naughty” but today he responds, spinning around to kiss me, and seconds later I am on my knees in front of him with his cock in my mouth while his ICQ messages bing away without him responding. Groaning with pleasure he opens the drawer where he keeps the condoms, and asks me if I want him inside me. I lie back eagerly on the floor – he is yet to buy a bed – and pull off my underpants, fingering myself. He grabs my breasts under my tshirt with one hand while carefully guiding himself into me. His cock is so big we have to take it slow at first, and it feels almost as if he is splitting me in two when he starts to thrust harder. But I love this feeling, I love his weight on top of me, I love the carpet beneath me, the curve of his shoulder blades, his close-clipped hair. I love him, and so when he is fucking me I am sure that he loves me too. But then I remember my friend in the other room, and I think that I should go back to her. I half sit up, laughing through our kisses that I was only supposed to take a minute. “You’re not going anywhere” he says, and he pushes me back down to the floor. We fuck more, but the prozac he takes makes it hard for him to come, and I start hurting, so I take him in my mouth again, as he jerks himself off. He comes across my tits, wipes me clean, and goes back to work. I return to my friend, face flushed.

Because it was New Year’s, and because we were in a beach town, my friend’s house was full of people so it was only fair that I offered to share the sofa bed that I was sleeping on. Two other guys crashed out on the floor, one on a bean bag, and the guy that hadn’t been giving me the eye all night rolled his sleeping bag out next to mine.

Because it was New Year’s, and because we were in a beach town, it was far too hot to sleep. I heard the breathing of the boys in the room slow down, and one started snoring, but I was pretty sure that the boy next to me wasn’t asleep. I was also pretty sure that his hand was snaking over to my side of the bed, softly drawing circles on my back. Was it on purpose? Was he really touching me? Did I want this to happen with the other boys in the room, or even at all?

I wanted to be sure, so pretending to stretch, I wriggled a little closer to his side of the bed. The hand stroking me was now unmistakeable. I rolled over and took his hand. There was a minute’s pause, a realisation that this was something that was happening before he started to stroke my arm again, and I reached out to touch him as well. His hands slipped up under my tshirt, found me braless, squeezed my breasts. I tugged lightly at his nipples, my arm grazing the top of his boxer shorts. I wasn’t sure how far he wanted this to go but he moved my hand down and I felt how hard his cock already was. His body went stiff as I took it in my hands, and then shook with the effort of keeping totally silent as my hand moved faster and faster. I could feel how much he was straining as he came in my hands, shaking and almost choking from trying not to cry out. I kissed him on his forehead, wiped my hand off on his shorts, rolled over and went to sleep. It was New Year’s, after all.

Sometimes it is so fucking hard to ignore how much i fucking want you inside of me, fucking me, taking me, making me lose control.

I know you prefer to play the sub, but you, on top of me, holding me down, pinning me to the bed, hands held above my head, cock thrusting into me, dominate me like that, please. Make me come half a dozen times with your fingers, lick me to orgasm more and again and again. Treat me like I am your dirty little fucktoy, because of course, I am, I could never be anything more.