You Asked Me About My Fantasies, Guest Post by Kitty Faut

… but then we didn’t really talk so I’m just writing them here.

In my fantasies we’re at N’s place in Thessaloniki, old furniture and random things on the floor and your hair is the way it was the day I met you, or we’re at your old flat, night turning to day or it doesn’t really matter.

No, no — I know.

We’re gonna go at a party later that night. You came over to drink tea, it’s bitter almond and the bougainvillea flowers that help me breathe and you need help to pick an outfit, even though I can’t really imagine us ever doing that. I show you the dresses: the long silver one, the skater dress I got just for you, the kinda see-through one with the big flowers. Will you try them on? You do a shy little catwalk for me, you look so pretty, I wanna eat you up alive. The collar that says SEX TOY, the one with the three D-rings, one for the leash and two for the handcuffs even though you’re not wearing any leash or handcuffs right now. I want to kiss you, you say, I smile and grab the middle ring of your collar and bring you closer and kiss you and bite your lip.

I write those words missing you even though I just saw you two days ago. I miss the idea of you more, of what we could have been.

I wanna do your nails. Will you pick a color? You choose a dark blue and I choose a silvery glitter top coat to go together, look like the starry night. I really like painting your nails, I love caring for you in these tiny ways, I like these still and silent moments when I have an excuse to be quiet and so close to you. Now you have to wait for like five minutes for the first layer to dry but we’re so close and I see how you look at me biting your bottom lip, tapping your fingers on your knees impatiently, but I’m sorry, I just did these nails and you’re not gonna mess them up, so stay still boy.

I get up and leave you desperate, sitting on the floor with your back on the bed, your hands placed carefully on your sides. I come back with strawberry juice and grapes and yesterday’s pizza. I smile and you smile. I sit on the bed behind you, spread my legs and place your head in between my thighs, are you comfy? You nod. I grab my book and read to you about caves and trees and birds and you’re so excited with everything. I feed you grapes and check your nails, they’ve dried so let’s apply a second layer. I kiss the top of your head and place your right hand on my thigh, start doing your nails, while I feel your other hand slowly touching my leg. My hand pulling your hair hard stops you and you apologize shyly. You have to politely ask first, remember?

I feel okay with you. Sometimes I’d like to be more confident, like Dom/mes are. Sometimes I’d like to find a way to be a Dom/me without needing to be confident. Does my desire for you make me vulnerable? Is being vulnerable a bad thing? Is vulnerability reserved only for subs?

I’d like to tie you up, would you like to be tied up? There’s a new knot I’ve been practicing that I’d like to show you, I say. You smile so wide and nod excited like a puppy, yes, yes! I bring out the scissors and the ropes, purple and teal and gray. I tell you to sit on the bed and I sit behind you, tie your hands firmly behind your back and try to remember the pattern I had practiced but at some point give up and do the same old things I know so well. I run my hands through your chest to straighten the ropes and as an excuse to touch you more. Are you okay? Does this feel good? I bring you closer to me, hold you tight, wrap my arms around your neck and my legs around your waist. I just sit still to feel your breath, its rhythm getting faster. You turn and try to kiss me, can I kiss you please, you beg softly. I turn you around, sure thing, boy.

We kiss a bit and I lay you on your back. I’m thirsty, you say, and I take a sip of water and pass it carefully from my mouth to yours. I sit on your crotch and feel you getting harder. I rub myself against you for a bit and you moan. I get up and clumsily take my underwear off, leave just the binder, or should I take this off too? I sit right next to you as you’re laying on your back, wishing you could touch me, trying to get your hands free even though you know it’s no use, but you know I love seeing you struggle. You manage to crawl closer, what do you want, boy? You know that if you ask nicely you might actually get it. Can I eat you up, Sir, please? Pretty please. Well, if you ask so nicely, how can I ever say no? I ride your face, my clit just a breath away from your mouth, you struggle but can’t reach me. I stand there enjoying the view of your pretty face in agony. I decide to be nice and just lower my hips a bit and let you get a taste of my pussy. Your tongue feels amazing, licking and sucking slowly, gratefully, carefully, your tongue feels like home. I feel like I can be myself with you and I had just missed you so much. I let myself enjoy this for a bit but then get up again. I sit next to your face, far enough so you can’t reach me, but if you crawl a bit you’ll be able to. Won’t you come here, boy? You struggle and you almost make it, but I just move away a tiny bit more. You’re so annoyed, I love it, you kiss and bite my knees and I laugh. I grab my toy box and tell you that I’d like you to suck my dick now, would you like that? Yes Sir, thank you so much.

Do your arms still feel ok? I bring you all the colorful dildos to choose from. I strap the one you picked on and sit on top of your face. You start licking it slowly, sucking the tip, then taking it all in. I love how you gag on it, keep looking me in the eyes, my sweet boy, my pet, my toy, I lock my hands around your throat while I fuck your mouth, slip my thumb inside it, keep doing that, you’re mine.

I lay you on your stomach, I just want to spend a moment with your back, with your ass, with the back of your thighs, with your tied up arms. I untie you slowly and kiss the rope marks, I wish they’d still be visible tomorrow, but I’m gonna make you some bruises to remember me by. I take my time tidying up the ropes, letting you wait, unsure what’s gonna happen next. You feel my dildo pressing up your butt and bend towards me. But for now I just wanna taste your salty skin, bite the back of your neck and pull your head up by your hair to get a kiss. I wanna map every little part of your body, scratch your arms and your back, hear all the different sounds you make that correspond to all the different ways I’m touching you.

I’m scratching and spanking your ass, watching it get pink and then red, hearing you louder, begging just for a little bit more. Then I stop. You’re shaking from desire, you know what’s coming next. Soft bites on your butt and the inside of your thighs. Little kisses. My fingers running on your skin gently. My tongue on your anus, my wet fingers, you sound as if you can’t take it anymore. Please, Sir. I apply lube and then one finger, two fingers, you close your eyes and say you like it, you want more. Lucky you, you’re just about to get more. You breath heavily as you feel the tip of my dildo rubbing against your anus, going slowly inside and then all the way. I fuck you a bit like that but I just wanna be able to see your face. Turn around, I demand and you obey. You’re the sweetest thing, I just want you so much. I feel your hands around me, you pressing closer to me to feel my dick deeper inside you. You hold me close as I fuck you, you reach for a kiss and you get it, you deserve it. I taste your sweat, your chest, your neck your armpits, I feel your nails on my back. I slow down. I kiss you gently, your lips, your face. Are you okay, boy? You nod. You’re so pretty, you’re too much to bear. I think that’s enough, you say. I need a break, We cuddle and kiss and whisper little things and make plans for the night. What time should we get there? Who will be there? You haven’t picked a dress yet! I drink some of the strawberry juice and you ask for a sip.

Can I touch you a bit? You ask, and I say sure. Can I touch your breasts? I smile. You kiss and suck on my nipples softly, then a sudden bite. I love it when you hurt me like that, I love this pain. I want you to bruise me. You get on top of me and spend some time caressing my hair, licking my fingers, kissing me all over. Little kisses on my belly and hips, little bites on the inside of my thighs, I feel so nice and safe with your head between my thighs. Will you get your sexy gloves? I ask you smiling. And of course you do, you look so freaking hot with them on and it feels so good when you finger me wearing those. I grab my wand while your fingers slip so easily inside my wet pussy. You fuck my faster and harder, bending over closer to me to kiss me, it’s so nice letting go, trusting you to fuck me, trusting to be vulnerable and strong and soft with you. Trusting you enough to cum hard, my wand vibrating against my clit and three of your fingers inside me. I collapse and you hug me, hold me super closely against your warm body that smells like home and lust and sweat and all the nice things. We stare at the ceiling together and you give me tiny kisses.

We get up, my hands are still all over you, caressing and scratching softly, playing with your hair and your ears and your shoulders and your hands. You smile and I smile. Can I do your makeup? Yes please, you say and take a sit while I bring my lipstick and brushes. You stand still, almost holding your breath. I apply eyeliner softly, I kiss your nose. Your new bruises go so well with the lip color. I bring the mirror and you see yourself and you have the widest smile. You like it? I love it.

Let’s get dressed and let’s go.

Protected: Making Peace #7

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Protected: Making Peace #1

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We’re just getting started

I spent the day alone in my room, recovering, remembering.

Her skin in the morning, golden, glowing. Her eyes as they increasingly tired last night. Her hips as they hinged open. The ways I held back, the ways I gave in.

My mental recap is increasingly romantic, but really it is raw desire. How does she do this to me?

I won’t tell you much about this date. There is no scene to report, no interesting beginning-middle-end with links to the toys I used (though I did go through three cocks). I won’t speak of the ways I took her, the ways she opened and clenched tight. The tender places we both touched and from which we backed off (too too fragile). I won’t speak to her mouth, her mouth, her near-perfect mouth and the way she tosses her head back, mouth open, this half-circle arc, when she comes.

I am starting to understand her tells, the signals that her body is poised on the edge of orgasm, the ways I can slow and prolong the explosion. I have felt her come dozens of times now, I have completely lost track. She counted six the last time we were together. Last night, I counted one in the bathroom at the club and one against the door of my apartment before we even got to the bed, then two this morning, despite her swollen cunt and aching hips’ protest. What happened in between was a blur, and clear as the winter blue sky that greeted us when we woke.

She told me this morning (open, open, so open) more of what she’d like. To be hit across the face. My cock in her mouth again. More of what I did the first time, more power, more dominance. And I felt suddenly self-conscious: it’s true, last night, though I was in charge and in control and calling the shots, I took the vanilla route, barely moved out of missionary position once we reached the bed except that one time on her stomach, more fucking and less dominance, out of fascination in the exploration of her body. And she is just so goddamn receptive: everything I did, she told me exactly how it felt, what was working, how to go deeper, with her body and moans and breathing. I couldn’t resist that, couldn’t tear myself away from the simple singular act of getting her off, making her come, hearing bliss escape her lips again.

With someone new it is always a challenge to understand the way they like to be touched, to be taken, what will unravel them at the last minute, so that is what I spent the night learning.

And she never stopped me. That turns me on in ways I cannot describe – that every time I went for her thighs, every time I worked my hand or cock between her legs she was wet, open, wanting. Even if she’d come just moments before – why would I stop when she could do it again right now?

So I allowed myself the indulgence of getting her off, over and over and over again.

But I won’t forget that she wants more power play, more sensation play. I won’t forget she wants to be hit, wants my palm on her face (how could I), wants my cock in her throat.

She’ll learn, too, that struggle brings out the force in me, that she can push me to take more by giving less, now that we both know how she wants to give over. Now that we both trust our impulses to give in. It’s harder to force when there is no resistance. She’ll learn how to play my power as I’ve learned to play her body, like an instrument, like a tool that could be a weapon in the right hands.

We’re just getting started.