Blowjob

Mary stood in her small kitchen, moving gracefully around the room while tending to her delicious concoctions. She loved to create tasty meals for her loved ones, and the food she made was showered in her emotions and love. There was no doubt in my mind that she took extreme pleasure in serving others such wonderful dishes. Her beauty was like no other, with her long flowing hair pulled back in a way that accentuated her gorgeous facial features, including her big smile.

Sitting at the kitchen table drinking my morning coffee and reading the paper, I didn't hear her soft footsteps until a moment before she wrapped her arms around me and nuzzled her lips into my neck. Ellen's arms snaked down my chest, over my stomach and down to my thighs. She bit down, causing me to wince slightly as the delicate strands of her long, light brown hair cascaded over my neck.

the phone rings. she answers. "I am on my way," the boy says. actually he is not a boy at all. 25 years old he is a man. technically though he does not act like it and she is not a little girl she is a woman though on the inside she feels as if she is still a child. she does not believe that she is doing this. but then again.

Precious was lonely. It seemed like the whole world was on lock-down and she hadn't been fucked in weeks. She dreamed about her Daddy and remembered all the fun they'd had. She thought about the threesomes in her bedroom, the occasional groups and the amazing times they'd had at play parties. She thought about the kinky afternoons when they were alone and how happy she was to do his bidding. Precious is only 25, but she's been with Daddy for six incredible years.

He could not remember what he noticed first, the sound of her high heels on the cold floor or the smell of her perfume. She was definitely going out tonight. The "she" in question was his flatmate whose shut door he blew past on his way to doing more work standing in the kitchen on yet another Friday night. New York City life was a bit of a drag sometimes. Standing in the kitchen alternating between typing, eating, and swearing, the latest near silent "

Everyone in this story is over the age of 18. Hello my name is Emma and I was finally on my way home from a hard day at court. I was a lawyer for a very well respected law firm. Our firm focused on defending the those that must would call guilty. Today I had helped clear a man that I'm pretty sure was guilty. I have never felt too bad about it before but for some reason today had left a bad taste in my mouth.

Everyone in this story is over the age of 18. If you have not read part 1, I would recommend going back and reading it now. It had been over a week now since I last saw Luke. He had all the control now as I did not get his number in return. Work had been stressing me out more then ever and I needed some release. I would pleasure myself every night but it did not have the same effect that a night with Luke did.

This memory happened back when I was working nights and you were working days, in the home office. One morning when you got home from the gym you found me already asleep in our bed. My schedule was a little off kilter, I usually wasn't asleep this early. We went out yesterday afternoon with friends and then played that night before I went to work. Because of all that I was exhausted this morning and had gone to bed before you'd gotten home.

M/F, light bondage You are a princess. Kind of a plastics princess. You don't have a care, drifting from shop to shop, just handing over your platinum card. You are wearing tailored grey pinstripe pants that sculpt your shapely bottom. Black boots with a nice raised heel. And a soft sweater that clings in all the right places, draping your womanly curves. As the clerks ring up your purchases and fills the bags, your driver is right there.

The door was slightly ajar. I stepped closer to my New York City apartment entrance and reached my arm through the dull yellow light of the hallway to grasp the tarnished knob. This was how I'd ordered it to be. I smiled, imagining my girl scurrying around the rooms, making sure everything was perfectly in order. I grinned harder imagining the obscure things I would have to criticize to be sure she was properly punished.

Thank you to the many people that provided feedback and some editing. You know who you all are. ***** I had arrived in London, bleary eyed after my nonstop flight. Fortunately, I had traveled light for my conference and customs was a breeze. As I waited in the taxi line, my phone buzzed. "What will your room number be?" My face got flushed and I let out a deep sigh. I had hoped the other people in line hadn't noticed.

I had always loved female domination porn, I watched it all the time as a teenager, and even now at the age of 24 I still watched female domination porn. I had loved that type of porn for as long as I could remember and I didn't know why. Women of authority had always turned me on like crazy, and it was so hard for me to fight my urges. My 23-year-old girlfriend Becky had found out about my love of female domination and she had not been very happy about it.

Emma struggled against her restraints for the hundredth time. "P-Please! Please, Professor, let me..." A sharp sting on her back made her stop talking. "Little Princess Doll..." He started, his hand gently caressing her bare ass where he had just slapped her. "How many times do I have to tell you to be quiet?" "I'm sorry! I..." Another slap and she bit her lip. His hand resumed his caressing of her stinging skin.

I woke up to the sound of water running. Turning my head I saw that her place next to me was empty and I realized that she was in the shower. I smiled thinking about how we had fallen asleep in each other's arms. I stretched and yawned thinking about joining her in the shower for some fun, but I decided to let her enjoy it in peace. As my arms slid across the headboard one bumped across the pair of handcuffs still wrapped around one of the posts.

I awoke feeling incredibly aroused. I opened my eyes and squinted; the early morning light was streaming in past the curtains, casting everything in silhouette. I glanced at the clock at the side of the bed. It was 6am; a whole hour before the alarm would go off. I felt hot. I was naked beneath the sheets; well, nearly naked. I flipped the duvet off the top half of my body and looked down at my bare breasts.

The text message came at exactly 8pm., as expected. It included the name of a motel, a room number and the time I was to arrive. I was told not to be late, so I didn't waste any time getting ready. I turned on my computer and got directions to the motel. It was in the city, just north of a bad neighborhood, that I was thankful to avoid. I didn't know the streets that well, but I figured it would take about 40 min.

This story was told to me by Shirley who you can read about in my series of stories about my Mother's friend who was my first love. This story had several variations when told by her and over the years my imagination has added more. She was very turned on to tell me this story as she stroked me slowly to climax. I was embarrassed back then and still am today to a large extent to admit that a movie or story about a woman being whipped can turn me on so much.

If you haven't read part one, I recommend you do so. Recap - in Part 1, I spent most of the day using sexual frustration and teasing as a motivation to get some housework done. My husband caught on around lunchtime and added a few things to my day, including the order to show up at his home office door at 3:30, when he has a break between meetings. Note: I split the story into two halves because at this point, things shift from a primarily solo adventure to one involving two people, and light BDSM.

This is a revised and extended version of an earlier story here - 'The Next Morning' - and there is more to come. Waking the next morning, unaccustomed dull fires reminding her of outrage, of cruel abuse of her most intimate places, she knows that something has changed inside her, that she has lost something. It's hearbreaking. The heartbreak is not, though, for lost innocence, for the bright promise of her relationship with him now violently shifted into a new, unknown territory, terrible hurts though both of these are.

*ping!* Dominic looked up from his work and clicked on the notification. Meeting with Evelyn @ 5 PM. An end of the day meeting, with no other details. He swallowed. He'd only been with Phantasmic Press for a month, and was already getting called in for a meeting with his boss? This was either very good...or very bad. "Hey! Joining us for lunch?" He jumped when Alyx clapped him on the back, leaning in over his shoulder.

Sometimes when you wake up and realize ... this is my life ...you sort of smile. One of those days for me was March 24, 2009. I looked over at her sleeping form as she was softly breathing. I relaxed for a bit and caught a bit of laughter as it formed in my throat. I licked my lips and thought about what a nice birthday she was gonna have today.

Tina is kneeling, on the floor, blindfolded. She has two fingers buried in her ass and two fingers working her clit, slowly, and her mouth is wide open. That is all her world is, the pressure on her knees, the fingers in her ass, the pleasure her pussy is receiving, and the touch of a hot cock on her face. The warm head touches her cheek, drags across her lower lip, under her chin.

This is a 100% true and factual story. She was shaking, and looked like a nervous little peacock as she walked back to her car with her panties stuffed into her mouth. Her arms were folded under her breasts and she could see his car through the corner of her right eye as he drove by her side, 50 feet away. She knew he was watching her every move as she walked through the strip mall parking lot.

I am in a mood tonight. It's hard to describe, kind of feisty I guess. As I walk up to my Dom's door, I start to imagine what the night may have in store. He'll expect me to come in, strip down and assume my presenting position: kneeling on the floor with my hands behind my head, breasts out, waiting for inspection. But you know what? I don't feel like doing that tonight.

Donna pulled at the sliding warehouse door. The wheels scraped, pouring echos across the studio lot. She froze, listening for guards. There was warm light spilling out of the warehouse -- the kind they used before shooting began, before the bright, hot lights started making her makeup run. Satisfied she hadn't alerted anyone, she stepped inside. She heaved the door shut behind her, taking a moment to smooth her skirt and blouse; white top with a tan bottom.

The November night was cold and rainy, as had been the pattern for several days. He arrived after a long day of work, and the weariness was evident in His eyes. She had planned the evening carefully, wanting Him to feel catered to and doted on. She had fixed him a sandwich, had grapes and a cold drink, knowing He would not have taken time to eat during the day. And to spark His imagination, just a little, she had put her hair in pigtails, low on the back of her head.