“Harder,” she whispered. “Fuck me harder, please, please.”
In a dingy bathroom in the downstairs of a Tibetan restaurant. Her cheek against the peeling greasy paint, legs kicked apart, stockings pulled down just to below her ass, dress shoved up around her waist, in front of the filmy bathroom mirror where she could see my arm flexing as my fingers – two, three – thrust inside her. Photos of the Dalai Lama on the wall. Penny joked about her being a bad Buddhist.
But I couldn’t resist.
An hour, more, of discussion: I’d send her a BDSM checklist about possible things to play with; we spoke about how much anger came up for her last weekend when I was hitting her; we spoke of my upcoming workshop and the BDSM techniques I’m hoping to practice with her, she was especially interested in the breast rope-binding ritual.
I imagined her, bound. Wrists behind her back, whimpering.
(Witness of that moment of giving in stirs something in me that nothing else does.)
I couldn’t get the angle right. I know well enough now to know how she likes to get fucked, to know the pressure she needs to come. Palm of my left hand holding her tailbone, working three fingers inside, right hand reaching around on her clit, pressing between the two like I’m cradling her pelvis.
She was up on her toes in her heels. Hands pressed against the wall, gasping, pressing back against me.
“Goddammit,” I swore softly into her hair, her neck, biting her shoulder, pressing into her harder, faster, “you’re going to come for me. Do it.”
She moaned. Couldn’t. It wasn’t going to happen. She needs a deeper bend in her hips, bent over or legs up. Something about how the muscles stretch and open.
But oh she was open for me last night. And I love the way she lets me shove her against walls, lets me fuck her in bathrooms in restaurants, up against trees in parks, up on my roof looking at the Manhattan skyline, Prospect Park, the South Brooklyn police precinct three doors down. Cars on the BQE whirring by, her hair dishevled against dark blue sky.
She’s even more of an exhibitionist than I am. This makes me want to test her limits, and mine. To find the places she won’t go and challenge her.
What an honor, such an honor, the ways she lets me in.
We attempted to leave the restaurant smoothly, the walk of shame past steaming plates of hot food and waiters and waitresses eyeing us suspiciously. Outside I caught her hand, laughing down the East Village streets, occasionally twirling her into my arms for a deep kiss. Supple, she gave in so easily, so eagerly, so sweetly at times my knees went weak and my throat growled with power.
She knows how to make me feel strong. Which makes me want to take her down all the more.
These mid-week dates are the tease, the warm-up. They get me going and keep me hard for days until I get to fuck her, for real, bent over something, on her back, head banging the wall or falling off the bed, arms up and grabbing for the headboard behind her, pressing against something, anything, for better leverage and pressure and power, oh the way she gives in.
Like last Friday, after mojitos and making out on the roof, she walked slowly, deliberately, into my room and bent over the edge of my bed, forearms in front of her. I think she would’ve stood up fairly quickly, really, but time slowed and the desire that swelled up in me in those few tiny moments were enough to keep me going for hours.
Swiftly I came up behind her and smacked her ass. “Bending over for me, are you? Just so eager to get fucked.”
“Yes,” she whimpered, barely audible.
I shoved her panties down – cute, a muted vintage pink and cream, lacy on the edges – fast, was ready to rip them apart, her dress up above her hips, held her cunt open while I unzipped and pulled my cock out, quickly unrolled a condom, spit on my hand, thrust inside her. Fast. Hard. Not even my fingers first.
I like the noises she makes when she’s caught off-guard. Thick moans from deep inside somewhere.
And did I mention the dress? Summery, cream-colored, halter top that tied behind her neck and behind her chest, shoulders bare, two knots, skirt below her knees. I kept hold of the ties and pressed her into the bed. Head down.
Hand pressed around her hips and onto her clit, just how she likes it, slow and soft as I fuck her hard and deep, and as soon as I started working her clit harder, faster, I could feel it swell, could feel her body shuddering, and she came, fast and hard, still working my hips to stay thick inside her, until she collapsed with her low hums of oh god ohh baby ohhh.
It’s the release I crave to hear the most. The letting go. The body stores things hidden inside joints, muscles, sinewy tendons, veins. How else to get the energy, the prana, moving again than to up the heart rate, force you into all the edges of your skin, sensation everywhere, pleasure bursting from the core of you?
What an honor, such an honor, to be received. To be allowed to go inside and touch those untouched, unlandscaped places which hold secrets, soft and dark, and dangerous raw beauty.
Dunno…after a while, this writing just bores me. How do you continue to find it interesting, content-wise? It's like redtube except it doesn't even get me off.
[So? Nobody's forcing you to read my work, I don't imagine it works for everybody all the time, and ultimately I'm not writing for anybody except myself. I continue to find it interesting because it's my life, and it's what turns me on. Go read something that does get you off if that's what you're looking for. No need to waste your time and attempt to bother me with an insult. – ss]
I have to respectfully disagree with the above- this made me desperate to go out and snag a butch of my own. If only British butches slept with femmes!
Um, allow me to respectfully disagree with RJK.
A lot.
On this one in particular.
Wow.
I need to stop reading you at work.
uh, RJK, you're a robot if this stuff doesn't get you off. seriously. go away.
this post is amazing. there's just so much here, and as usual I'm left staring glossy-eyed at my screen with my mouth slightly ajar, wondering why I let myself read this at work.
ah well, my productivity may = zero, but lusty daydreams are more fun anyway.
thanks for sharing, Sin. sounds like you and Penny are having some real fun. it's downright inspiring.
Inspiring, indeed. Like muse and Bzzzzgrrrl, I just read this at work, and am now too turned on to focus. I have just texted my girlfriend in hopes of a lunchtime hookup (cross your fingers.)
And, I'm impressed with the tact in the comments offering a respectful disagreement to RJK's comment. I, on the other hand, come without this tact and think you are an unchecked asshole. What a buzzkill to read such a hot post and then get to your comment. It was like in high school when i was trying to make out with my girlfriend and my mom would busts in to complain about the laundry on the floor or something. Come on now, you are just one click away from anywhere else on the web. Click. Go away. But don't ruin it for the rest of us.
RJK-home alone with your finger up your ass like every other Friday of your life? You should find something more productive to do with your day instead of going out of your way to insult someone. Just don't read here if it doesn't work for you, that's all you had to do. Nasty people like you make me sick.
Sin, that was so yummy. You know how to make a girl squirm in her seat.
yeah, what muse said…i'm inspired (and, y'know, at work, too).
Oh trolls. Gotta love that.
I need to stop reading you when I need to get early (or should be packing), because then you see, I need to take a break. And my toys are already packed, which means I'm actually moving backwards in progress,
But oh, so worth it. Hope you're having fun at the workshop!
I’ve said this a million times: STOP READING SINCLAIR AT WORK. Great one, nice compliement to Penny.
RJK, I was not going to being more attention to you. Since I am a nice, quiet, submissive femme I just needed to say EFF OFF AHOLE !
Sorry Sin for the unlady like behavior. So not me.
"What an honor, such an honor, to be received. To be allowed to go inside and touch those untouched, unlandscaped places which hold secrets, soft and dark, and dangerous raw beauty."
More than getting turned on, your writing blooms in my mind.
Fucking hot
It is deeply ironic that RJK left such a rude comment because my comment was going to be basically the opposite. I’ve been profoundly bored with smut writing recently and have had a lot of trouble getting into it. This post is one of the few I have finished all the way through this week and furthermore that actually *did* something for me. Sure, in an intellectual way (because no one can doubt that you are a brilliant wordsmith and thinker) but in the sense of longing. In short, gorgeous work, and thank you.
Sin, hot as always. You're such a stud.
I love the intimidate action of this story. That opening line grabs your attention and the prose never lets you go.
:) Honey
Mmmh. Congratulations. You had my one "absotively posilutely" Sugasm vote — I was waffling about the other two votes.
I kind of want to climb into your blog and nuzzle it, shimmering neckties and all.
Speaking as a straight woman…that was fucking hot.
I'll be back for more I'm sure.