Kayla, compiled, big revisions for more teasing

[dgenpres]

(I think folks on this board will prefer this version. It's not hardcore OD, however, so skip it if that's your thing.)

I noticed her as soon as I walked into the café that first time. You couldn’t help but notice her with those big breasts, big eyes, and long, dark hair. A radius of near silence surrounded her as she waited tables, those around her stunned as she neared – very hot.
I’ve never been intimidated by those most would consider “out of my league.” Humans are still animals and will respond to the right stimuli. So I got a seat in her section and let loose with the charm. She was friendly and responsive, but that was her job so I wasn’t sure if I was getting anywhere. At least I got a name - Kayla - but the café got too busy for me to really have more than a few flirty words with her so I resolved to come back later in the week.

Same thing next time – the joint filled up as I got warmed up to her but soon she was too busy to chat.
Then I had a busy week and didn’t get back to the café. But the following week I made it back and she smiled as I walked in and gave a little wave. At least she recognized me.
There wasn’t a table free in her section so I got a seat at the counter and ordered. I was happy when she came by to check on me, even though I wasn’t at one of her tables. “Do you need anything?”
“Only your phone number.”
“Pffff” she scoffed and walked off.
OK, maybe I wasn’t getting anywhere.
So I had my dinner while ogling her and headed out. I tried to catch her eye and wave as I left but the joint was hopping, as usual.
Normally I’d let it go at that. Clearly she wasn’t interested and there were other fish in the sea, but somehow I kept finding myself back at the café, in her section whenever I could find a seat there. Something about her made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. She moved with a certain disconnected grace, like she wasn’t on this planet at all and just barely noticed anyone here but would be warm and friendly when someone came near.

Or maybe she’s just really fucking hot.

Eventually she knew my name and would greet me when I walked in, take my order and move directly into small talk. But she always scoffed when I asked for her number or asked her out. So I was surprised one day when I was settling my tab and she walked over and said, “My car is in the shop. Can you give me a ride home?”
“Uh… sure!” I said, almost stammering.
Outside the work environment, she seemed to loosen up a bit. We had a nice conversation and seemed to hit it off. When we got to her house she thanked me and was about to hop out but I stopped her, “So why won’t you ever give me your number? I can be a charming date.”
“You’re nice. Maybe I will sometime.”
Then she slipped out the door.

So of course I was back at the café a few nights later, trying my luck again. This time she said, “I’ll be honest – I’m not looking for a date right now. I just got over someone. But I wouldn’t mind going out and doing something. I’ve got to get out of the house this weekend. So if you want to be friends that’s cool, but that’s all.”
“Alright,” I said, agreeing to anything I could get, thinking it might be the first step in the right direction or it wouldn’t work out, but either way it was worth a shot.

We had a few dates-that-weren’t-dates. It was frustrating because everywhere we went men would look at us and I could almost hear them thinking, “Shit, that lucky bastard.”
But no, we were just friends. We went to movies, gallery openings, met for lunch a few times, but nothing sexual happened for a couple of months.
She asked me on a not-really-a-date-date for a movie, The Island with Scarlett Johansson and Ewan McGregor. We had talked about our favorite objects of desire so Kayla knew I had a thing for Scarlett (what straight man doesn’t?) and she had a thing for Ewan (what straight woman doesn’t?) so it was the perfect film for a friends-only date, since it’s not a “date movie” kind of film.
It’s also not a great film, but we enjoyed it. Afterward neither of us were ready to go home so we stopped by the bar next door and chatted about the film, then about other stuff, until it was pretty late and we were both a little tipsy. I was feeling brave so on the way home I made another play.
“So… have you started dating again? I mean for real?”
“I’ve had a few dates but nothing real.”
“Real emotional or real… physical?
”Why, jealous?”
“No, just asking.”
“Nothing either. Sex with me is kind of weird.”
I figured she meant the typical female kind of “sex is important and I want to feel something for the person I’m having sex with” weird and just nodded. We pulled up in my driveway and she stopped and put the car in park. I was prepared to admit defeat and make the usual friendly goodbyes but in the silence she looked me in the eye as if considering something. I looked back with a “Well…?” smirk on my face. She turned the car off, getting my hopes up.
Rather than ask if she could come in or lean in for a kiss, she had been considering whether or not to tell me something. It came out.
“When I was in high school my first boyfriend, Daniel, and I used to make out. He wanted to go all the way but I was a virgin and I didn’t want to get pregnant and I wanted the first time to be special and all that stuff, so I kept putting him off. But we kept making out. We’d kiss, he’d get his hand in my pants or vice versa. Eventually we got around to dry humping and… I really got off on it. He’d be grinding against me, hard as a rock, and begging to fuck me and I learned to orgasm that way. Maybe he’d get off too or maybe I’d give him a handjob or blowjob but the best part for me was him rubbing my clit through my panties and telling me how much he wanted me. Sometimes I’d send him home without helping him get off just so I could go home and masturbate, thinking about how much he wanted me.”
I had to adjust myself. Of course I was picturing her in a car, some guy between her legs, his hand running over her amazing breasts, her getting off on it.
She noticed and giggled, “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this stuff.”
“No, it’s ok,” I said, trying to sound friendly but wondering if I shouldn’t try to sound interested for other reasons. I can be a bit too passive in my relationships. I tend to sit back and see what happens, at least when it comes to sex. Some women find this intriguing, mysterious, and pursue. Others need a man who is the aggressive one. Often I sit back and wait too much and don’t take chances when I should. But Kayla’s body encouraged me to take chances though our relationship kept me at arm’s length. Each time she looked away during the conversation I couldn’t help but look down at her cleavage, barely peeking out from her dress.
So none of this introspection occurred to me as Kayla talked.
“I kept telling Daniel, ‘When summer comes we’ll have time to do it right.’” I think I was putting him off because I was still a little scared, but also because I didn’t want things to change. I was getting off and he kept coming back for more. I wasn’t just scared of sex, I was scared of losing him, and worried that sex – like, actual intercourse – would be a let-down. So when summer came around I ran out of excuses and we did it and it *was* a let-down.”
I nodded sympathetically, “The first time usually is for most people.”
”Yeah, well, it wasn’t just the first time. Every time I thought, ‘Is this *it*?’ I’d had much more fun just dry humping. I found myself avoiding Daniel because I knew he’d want to screw and I just wanted to make out. But I was young and didn’t know how to talk to him about it so we fought and broke up by the time summer was over. Which was ok because he went off to college and I had another year of high school.”
There was a long pause. My passivity returned. I wasn’t sure what to say. She’d just opened up and if we were really dating I’d kiss her and we’d connect physically after the emotional connection – but we weren’t dating.
“So…” she said, taking the initiative, “wanna make out?”
I leaned over to kiss her as an answer.
Maybe my “wait and see” attitude worked to my advantage, I thought, congratulating myself. The thing is, “just you wait and see” could be Kayla’s motto.
Her lips were big, soft, warm, wet, slippery – everything you want in a kiss. She alternately pulled away, encouraging me to follow, and took the lead, pushing her tongue into my mouth or sucking on my lips. It was so good – and I’d wanted her so long – how could I not slide my hand up her thigh and over her dress, headed for her big breasts?
But even a little drunk she wanted to take her time, “Slow down,” she whispered, moving my hand to her hip.
I tried to settle down but all I really wanted was to get on top of her, hike her skirt up and fuck her silly.
Instead, we made out like high school kids. Lots of kissing, lots of sighs, hands roaming over shapes hidden by clothes – seemingly for hours. I clutched at her breasts through her bra. I would slide my hand up her thigh, pushing her dress along with it, until she would stop me and we’d continue kissing. Her hands pinched the head of my cock through my jeans. It was slow yet intense.
I was shaking by the time she crawled across the console into my lap. She fumbled for the lever and the bucket seat leaned back, her straddling me. She ground her crotch against me but I couldn’t feel much with the layer of denim and zipper between us. I squeezed her breasts, kissing at her cleavage. She pulled my head up and whispered in my ear, “Do you want me?”
“Yessss…” I whispered back.
She worked her hips in slow circles. I pushed up against her.
“Tell me,” she whispered.
“Oh, Kayla, I want you so bad…”
I’d never been much of a talker during sex. Forming coherent sentences and fucking at the same time isn’t my strong suit.
“More,” she said.
I would have to learn.
“I want to be inside you – feel that wet pussy on me.”
She moved a little faster, a little firmer against me. I didn’t need more encouragement.
“I want to feel you cum on my cock while I suck your nipples,” I said, voice shaking, while I squeezed her breasts through her bra.
She let out a sigh and lifted up, her pussy barely brushing over the lump in my jeans. I lifted up to press against her and she held herself there, me lifting as long as I could and shaking with the effort before she pushed back down again. Her smell filled the air in the car.
“Oh shit I want to fuck you so bad,” I said, no longer just playing the part. She had me as worked up as a high school boy with blue balls.
She rotated her hips in small circles. I imagined her panties rubbing over my jeans, her clit millimeters away from the head of my cock.
“Please Kayla…” I groaned, genuinely wanted to end the foreplay, get naked and get off.
But Kayla was about to get off, fully clothed. She shuddered and groaned, “Oh god….” I realized she was there and did what I could to push her over the edge, pinching at her nipples behind the cotton and satin layers of her dress and bra.
She stopped moving except to just lay on top of me and shiver. I thought she was done already but when I started to shift she said, “Don’t… move…”
I kept up my small thrusts and the pressure on her breasts as she continued to cum. It wasn’t an explosive, amazing orgasm, more a drawn out small one.
She stopped shivering and kissed my neck.
“I’m sorry…” she whispered in my ear.
I was still pushing against her, desperately. “What for?”
“Just… I didn’t want to screw up our friendship. If I didn’t know you I’d probably sleep with you tonight.”
“Well pretend you don’t know me,” I let out without a thought.
She was coming down from both a physical and emotional high. I had been a momentary distraction, a drunken decision that she was already regretting, moments after orgasm (she would’ve made a typical male.)
“Come inside with me,” I said, nodding toward my apartment as she rolled off me. Her smell wafted up and turned my brain into mush.
“No. I just needed… something. I guess I just wanted to feel wanted again.”
”I want you,” I said, hoping to smooth the way for things to continue.
“I know. And I thought we could just keep it friendly. But me and sex… I don’t want to hurt you.”
”Then let’s stop being friends.”
She looked at me, taken aback for a moment.
“Let’s date. For real,” I continued.
“Look, I like you but… this isn’t the only weird thing about me.”
”I like you too. And I’d like to find out what other weird things you’re hiding.”
”You’re not going to like this one.”
“I still haven’t recovered from the last one,” I said, adjusting my still-throbbing erection.
“Sorry.”
“It’s ok. Let’s go inside and talk.”
“No. I’m going to go home. If you still want to be friends – just friends – call me sometime,” she said, obviously a little flustered.
I was more than a little flustered. The hormones raging inside me took over and I shook my head in annoyance and rolled out of the car in a huff. I slammed the door a bit too hard and headed for my apartment.
She started the car and pulled away.
I was so pissed off, hurt and confused I didn’t even masturbate that night. Of course, the next morning my cock was so hard I barely lasted a minute before spurting all over my chest and stomach.

I gave it a week before going back to the café. I was sorry I’d acted like a high school punk but there’s a reason high school punks act that way – too much testosterone, and Kayla had gotten mine cranked up.
I sat in her section. She walked over, “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“How are you?”
“I’m ok. How are you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok. Really. I’m sorry if I… wasn’t understanding.”
“No, it’s my fault. I’ve got issues.”
I thought, “I’ll say,” but just nodded and ordered a drink. Once I got it into me I asked her out again.
“I don’t know…” she said.
”Just as friends,” I said, anticipating her doubts.
She agreed.
We had two or three dates-that-weren’t-dates. The encounter in the car had obviously done something do her because she seemed to make a point of asking me about my sex life at least once every date – how many women I’d been with, what my first time was like, even asking what I fantasized about. But every time she seemed to derail the conversation when it would normally have been her turn to open up.
For example, “So, you ever been with a guy?” she asked after we’d met a gay friend of hers.
“Nope.”
”Ever fantasized about it?”
I was honest and open with her pretty much at all times but this was a different level of intimacy, something I probably only would’ve shared with a girlfriend after really getting comfortable and to a certain level of trust, but Kayla would needle me until I confessed anyhow so I just let it out, “Sure, a few times.”
“Like when?”
“Well the first time I saw Mad Max on video… there’s something about young Mel Gibson in black leather walking down the middle of the road.”
She nodded with a smile.
“But nothing real – nobody you’ve met in person?”
“I don’t know, it’s more of a fantasy thing, something I’m not sure I’d ever do for real. Some things are better left as fantasy, don’t you think?”
“Oh, come on, don’t you want to try it before you die?” she asked.
“I’m not sure the reality is going to be better than the fantasy. I think it would just be… weird.”
“You pussy,” she said, giving me a little punch on the shoulder.
I just rolled my eyes and asked, “So… what about you?”
“Yeah, I’ve fantasized about a few guys.”
I gave her a “Screw you” look.
Then the waiter came with our food and I never got real details out of her.
This bothered me until about the third date when I realized either she was just curious and liked to talk about sex, or maybe this was some kind of test – a probe to see if I was a complete wacko. I wondered if maybe she wasn’t taking baby steps in my direction, first through conversation before things got physical. Pretty soon I was *hoping* this was the case rather than just wondering.

On the next date we were at a gallery opening for a friend of hers, an ok show but really I’d set up the date determined to get to the bottom of things. I waited until we were on the way home, the usual time for intimate conversation, especially after a few glasses of wine back at the gallery.
“So… the only thing I know about your sex life is that you like the heavy petting. What other weird things you got going on that you won’t tell me about?” I asked.
“I figured you’d ask,” she said, rolling her eyes but with a smile.
Her smirk put me at ease but she didn’t open up. She just let my question hang there.
“Come on, fess up,” I goaded.
Still silence. I glanced over at her and caught her staring at me in consideration. We were almost to her place when finally spoke.
”You’re just not my type.”
“What, don’t I make enough money for ya?” I said, jokingly (but hoping it was just a joke.)
“Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
We pulled into her drive and I put the car in park and looked over at her with a “Well…?” expression that told her I wasn’t going to let the subject rest.
“Not tonight,” she said. Her tone implied that she might be willing to talk about it one of these days but I couldn’t let it go at that. Maybe the wine had taken down my normal inhibitions – or maybe I just wanted her that much.
“Kayla!”
“Look, I’m serious. You aren’t my type, ok? Let’s just be friends at leave it at that.”
She kissed me on the cheek and let herself out of the car. My patience was at an end. I stepped out of the car and pursued her, literally and metaphorically.
“Come on, Kayla, at least tell me what it is. I like spending time with you, you seem to have a good time, I even enjoyed the weird make out thing. So what is it?”
She stopped at the door and turned, letting me catch up.
“Ok, fine, you want to know?” she said, then threw up air quotes, “The *weird make out thing* isn’t my only hangup about sex.”
“Everybody is a little weird -“ I started but she cut me off.
“After Daniel I had a few other boyfriends but nothing really did it for me in bed. Which would lead to fights and pretty soon I’d be alone again. I was dating this guy, Ben, when I met Louis, a guy in one of my classes. He hit on me constantly even though I told him I had a boyfriend. One day I was feeling down and Louis – Louis just made me feel… sexy. I finally gave in and he took me to his place and screwed my brains out. It was great. I came like I never had before. He had a big cock and he knew how to use it. All my other boyfriends were… y’know, average, and they’d last maybe two minutes but Louis fucked like a marathon runner. We screwed every few days. I even gave him blowjobs in the library. Ben didn’t know it but the reason I stopped sleeping with him is because he couldn’t compete. He didn’t find out about Louis until after we broke up but it messed me up to know I’d cheated on him.
So I broke it off with Louis, feeling guilty, and dated another guy. Then found myself fucking Louis again. Between his big dick and the sort of taboo of cheating I got to a point where that’s what sex was about.”
She stopped, probably just because she didn’t know what to say next, but I was glad for the break. It let her story sink in.
“So… what do you do know?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Relationship-wise.”
“I only date guys with big cocks,” she said, matter-of-factly, “It’s gets me off without having to cheat.”
“What about the old ‘size isn’t important’?” I said, my tone not so matter-of-fact.
“It is to me,” she said, shrugging. Her tone told me this wasn’t a point of debate – it was fact.
“I’ve never had any complaints before,” I said, feeling hopeless.
“Look, you’re a great guy. I’d recommend you to any woman. But I don’t want to get involved with you. You’d get hurt and it wouldn’t be fun – for either of us.”
“There’s more to sex than a big dick, you know. Heck, there’s more to *life* than a big dick!”
“Yes, but I need a real friend, and a good, hard, no strings attached fuck. I’m not looking for *friends with benefits* and I like you more than that,” she said, opening her door. “So be my friend, ok?”
What is a guy supposed to say to that? She had opened up and been honest, which was nice, but it obviously wasn’t what I was hoping for. Had it been anyone else I probably would’ve driven off, shaking my head and mumbling, “That bitch is nuts.”
But I knew Kayla too well and wanted her for too long. My passivity took a back seat.
“No strings here. I’m sure I can make up for…” I started.
What do say? I’d never said anything like ‘my small dick’ in my life. I’d never had to.
“You won’t let this go, will you?” she asked.
I thought about it for a moment but the look on my face told her my answer.
“Tell you what, come in and see what I’m talking about,” she said, her tone challenging.
Confused but curious, I followed her in. I realized suddenly I’d never seen the inside of her place. She’d always met me at my car when I picked her up, or at the café, or she’d picked me up for our many dates. She’d kept me as distant from her apartment as she had from her sexual secrets.
It was a cute place, furnished well beyond the means of a waitress. Maybe her folks were rich, which might explain her cool, distant manner. She turned the lights on in her bedroom and went to a side table. She opened the drawer and turned around with a big, red dildo in her hand. She pointed it at me as if saying, “See? Do you measure up to this?” The thing was eight inches long, thick, with a ribbed shaft and bulbous head.
“Um… Ok…” I let out, at a loss for words.
“You wanna watch?” she said, her voice a tone of “You may not what you see.”
How many times in one day could this woman shock me into silence?
“Last chance before I kick you out the door,” she said, tossing the toy onto the bed and kicking her shoes off.
I now know she *wanted* me to watch but at the time it felt much more like a dare, one I might regret taking, as if she was really trying to spare my feelings. I stood there stupidly, my mind racing – to nowhere.
“Sure,” I said, sheepishly.
She pulled her shirt off. Her breasts looked magnificent in her bra.
She smiled, “Have a seat” and waved at a chair covered in clothes.
I moved the clothes and sat, watching her undress. The evening definitely wasn’t going as I’d hoped but I figured at least I’d get a heck of a show.
She pulled her skirt off, letting my eyes roam over her wonderful ass – her perfect cheeks bisected by a very sexy pair of black g-string panties. She moved about the room as if I wasn’t there, dropping her necklace into a jewelry box. She opened the clasp of her bra and tossed it aside, still acting as if she’d just gotten home from work alone instead of stripping for a desperate suitor who wasn’t going to get anywhere but would be tortured with a glimpse of his desires anyhow. The panties followed, her pubic hair trimmed short and shaved to a small triangle.
“You are gorgeous,” I said, shaking my head.
“Thanks!” she said, doing a playful curtsy. She turned off the overhead light and switched on the bedside lamp before crawling onto bed. “Now be quiet and don’t even think about climbing up here. You can watch and watch only unless I say so, ok?”
“ok.”
She arranged the pillows to her liking and laid back, the red dildo by her side. She closed her eyes and slid her right hand down between her legs. Her left brushed over her breasts delicately. Her other hand worked lazy circles around her pussy, pausing at her clit on each pass. Her smell began to fill the room, making me ache to taste her, feel her, fuck her. She kept this up for a long time, slowly getting more into it – pulling her nipples, working tight circles around her clit, dipping a fingertip into her pussy, beginning to arch her back. I stared, occasionally thinking about how that body had been on top of me a couple of weeks before with only a few layers of fabric between us. Instead, I’d been sent home hard and hurting. I silently hoped the same fate wasn’t in store for me again.
Eventually she reached over and picked up the big latex monster and slid it down between her legs. She grabbed it with both hands slid the massive head over her lips, up and down, slow and steady, pausing at the top to work circles around her clit. I was sliding my hand over the bulge in my pants in time to her movements, but when she started to push it inside her I stopped, again shocked and amazed at this woman. She slid half of it easily inside her in one smooth stroke.
She let out a gasp and stopped there. She took a few deep breaths and pulled the cock out again, then pushed it back. “Ohhh goddamn…”
Her other hand moved to her clit, working in the same slow circles she had with the head of the fake cock. The next stroke went in even further, probably 3/4 of the shaft inside her. Her lips stretched around the shaft. I could see her whole pussy move. She shivered with each push, obviously enjoying herself.
I glanced up. Her breasts were squeezed together by her arms as both hands worked between her legs. The look on her face, eyes clamped shut and mouth half open, was half pain, half pleasure, and all focus. The next thrust pulled my eyes back down. She was moving a little faster now, in and out in short strokes, only pulling an inch or two out before sliding it back in.
I could feel my own wetness seeping into my underwear and jeans. I’d watched girls masturbate before compared to this it had been downright dull! Her hips were thrusting up and down to match time with her hands. Her breathing got faster and her stomach muscles started clenching. Little moans escaped her lips, all the tell-tale signs of a woman on the edge. Then she stopped, pulling the dildo out and letting out a whimper. She thrust her hips into the air three or four times, then started again. It was the hottest damn thing I’d ever seen.
She repeated the cycle, but faster and sloppier the second time. Soon she was back to short, hard thrusts punctuated by moans, fingers wiggling across her clit, hips thrusting. She didn’t stop this time but instead pushed the dildo into her hard and fast. It looked painful. If it had been porn I would’ve thought it was just a show for the camera. If she’d acted like I was in the room I would’ve thought it was a show for me. Instead, it was all for her – thrusting deep and fast until she came, hard. This was nothing like the orgasm we’d had in the car. That had been cute and sweet, where this was intense and dirty.
She bounced up and down for a few thrusts then finally returned to earth. If I hadn’t been mentally competing with the big toy I might’ve pulled my cock out and climaxed with her but the scene was… intimidating.
She caught her breath as I sat there, my wait-and-see nature taking over. Maybe I was just too chicken to try anything after such a performance.
She slid the toy out slowly then tugged the sheets up over her and said, “Lock the door on your way out,” in a sleepy, satisfied way.
“What?”
She squinted in my direction. The show – and the conversation – were clearly over.
This time I masturbated before I even got out of the driveway, much less before I fell asleep. I was still frustrated and a little hurt, but just as much turned on. How many times could she do things like this to me and expect to remain just friends?

[dgenpres]

Of course I was back at the café a few days later. I forced myself to wait a few days. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel when I saw her. I couldn’t let myself hear, “Your cock isn’t big enough,” even if it was just spoken with a glance.
But at the same time I was determined to get closer. Maybe she’d learn to want me as I am. So I asked her out again. I was surprised when she didn’t argue or even hesitate with a response, “How about Thursday?”

I purposefully avoided any sex talk for a while but I happened to be describing this guy I work with as, “The guy’s a big dick.”
“Ha! Maybe you should send him my way!” Kayla joked.
It pained me for a moment but she elbowed me in an “Oh, come on” way and I had to just roll my eyes and deal with it. I was the one who’d insisted on knowing her dirty secrets in the first place.
At the end of the night I pulled up in her driveway, still unsure as to our relationship. Rather than ask bluntly, like a grown man should, “Just where are we going with this?” or something along those lines, I had to communicate through jokes, “Have fun with Mr. Big!”
“Ha! Mr. Big. I call him Roger.”
It took me a moment but I got the pun, “Ah! Funny.”
“Thanks for the fun night,” she said, seeming to pause rather than perform the usual the peck-on-the-cheek-and-flee ceremony.
“Do you need some help in there?” I asked.
She was clearly considering something, yet again getting my hopes up.
“I’ll make you a deal. You strap on my toy and screw me silly some night and I’ll do the same for you another night,” she asked.
“What, strap on your toy and screw me silly?” I said, joking.
“Yes,” she said, looking at me with an eyebrow raised.
“You’re serious?”
“I’ve never screwed a man before. How about it?”
I paused in silence. Maybe the questioning she’d put me through wasn’t just for her own curiosity.
Before I could answer she leaned close and whispered in my ear, “I need to get laid – no strings attached. And you get to fulfill one of your fantasies without even having to deal with a real man. I promise I won’t hurt you, and you *will* enjoy it.”
She backed up and stared, waiting for a response.
“Ok,” I finally asked.
“Great. Stay right here,” she said, hopping out of the car.
My mind was again running in all directions at once with no final destination before she reappeared, gift bag in hand. She came around to the driver’s side and leaned in the window, “Here ya go.”
I took the bag and started to look into it but she stopped me, “Uh-uh. Not tonight. I want it to be… a surprise. Some night when you’re in the mood.”
“I’m in the mood,” I said, trying not to sound like I was begging.
“Nope,” she said, leaning in for what I assumed was the kiss on the cheek routine. Instead, she whispered in my ear, “Some night after one of our dates take me home and fuck me with it. And I mean really fuck me. If you’re good I might even suck you off after.”
My pants felt a bit tight all of the sudden.
“I think I can handle that.”
“Then some night I’ll take charge.”
“Um… Mr. Big… Roger…”
She laughed, reading my mind, “Don’t worry, I’ve got one that’s more your size.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant the size of my cock, or the size I could handle, but either way the deal was made.
She walked away, with me staring at her fantastic ass.

When I got home curiosity got the better of me and I opened the sack. I found the expected strap-on harness, but a different dildo. This one was hollow too, but clear. It had veins and a head like a real dick, but all transparent. There were a few other surprises and a note: “Don’t be gentle.”
My imagination ran wild.


We had another date and met for lunch once before I grew too impatient to spring the plan into action – her plan, really, no matter what details I added to the equation.
But the following date she was clearly tired and a little distant, so I left the toys in the trunk of the car, got the peck on the cheek and went home to jerk off.
Then I tried to make a date for Friday, but she was working so we agreed on Sunday instead. I hung up the phone and decided on a plan.
I hadn’t been to the café in a while but I knew her schedule. The place closed around midnight but the wait staff didn’t get out of there until 1 or later. I found a spot in the back of the parking lot around 12:30 and peeked around the corner to see how things were going in the café. They chairs were on the tables and the staff had just about finished cleaning up, from what I could tell, so I headed back to the car to wait. A while later she came out with the rest of the wait staff, made her goodbye’s and headed for her car.
I followed her, staying back far enough not to be noticed. If she hadn’t gone home my plans would have to be delayed but soon I was tailing her into her neighborhood. I let her get ahead of me and pulled over and waited.
I gave her enough time to get home, get undressed, wash up and relax. It was difficult waiting, I was anxious to get started, but I stalled as long as I could.
When I pulled into her driveway her bedroom light was on but the rest of the house was dark. I stepped out of the car and adjusted myself. I’d put on the strap-on at home so I’d be ready at the door and not have to get into the contraption in my car. I had to wear the baggiest pants I owned and slide the monster dildo down one leg, but it worked. I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for guys who were this endowed.
On the other hand, they were the ones my size queen was after…
I rang the doorbell. I heard footsteps inside and the outside light came on. I waved at the peephole and the door opened.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, standing in the doorway in only a t-shirt. Her large breasts jiggled, making her nipples sway under the fabric. She smelled of food service and sweat. All of this came to me as I stepped up to her, dropping the gift bag on the floor inside the doorway.
“You know what I’m doing here,” I said, pulling her to me for a kiss.
Her hands moved to the back of my head and gripped my hair almost painfully – she was definitely willing. Another dose of adrenalin coursed through me.
I pushed her back a step into the hall, not even breaking our kiss, and kicked the door shut behind me.
The cool, dominant air she normally had was nowhere to be found. She whimpered and let me push her against the wall, one leg already snaking around me. We kissed passionately, our tongues intertwining, her hands pulling at my shirt, then my pants. My hands moved under the edge of the t-shirt and found the waistband of her panties. I thought about tugging them down and fucking her right then and there but decided I could wait, especially since the toy – actually, Kayla – would be getting most of the enjoyment out of the evening.
She pulled my pants open. I helped push them down so the strap-on popped free. I felt her hand tugging at it the way she’d tug at a real cock, but it didn’t get me worked up the way it would have had she wrapped her hand around my own shaft. So I stepped back and said, “Don’t move,” in my most commanding tone.
I kicked my shoes and socks off and stepped out of my pants. I would have felt ridiculous standing in the hall with the black leather straps and plastic-covered phallus hanging between my legs if she hadn’t looked at me the way she did – her nipples stood erect under the thin cotton shirt, she bit her lip and stared at the toy, her hands rubbing her thighs up and down in anticipation. Instead of feeling silly I felt empowered.
“You want this?” I said, wrapping my hand around the toy.
“Yes,” she said softly.
I reached for her again. She leaned in to kiss me but I pushed her down. She dropped to her knees without the tiniest bit of hesitation and took the head of the dildo in her mouth. One hand held the base of the shaft, her other wrapped around my balls, pulling the dildo into her. The clear plastic acted a bit like a magnifying lens, but it was still the most frustrating thing I’d ever seen – worse even than her masturbation act. I could see my cock there, plunging between her lips, but only felt a slight tug as the plastic slid against me.
Had it not been for the toy it would’ve been a fantastic blowjob. Even the hand on my balls felt good. I let her keep it up for a while but when she dipped to drag her tongue across my balls I couldn’t take any more.
“Stand up” I said, trying to regain my cool.
She stood, mouth open, lips moist, already trembling.
“Turn around. Bend over.”
She turned and leaned forward, resting her weight on the wall with her arms. The t-shirt slid up over her ass, her tan, full buttocks exposed, g-string panties barely visible between her cheeks in the dim hall.
I reached one hand down and rubbed her ass. Her smooth skin was cool in the climate-controlled air. I hooked a finger in the narrow band of fabric running between her legs and gave it a small tug upward. I leaned close and whispered to her “You’ve been teasing me with this lovely ass for months.”
I pulled my hand back and gave her a slap on the ass. She let out a low moan and closed her eyes.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” I said before I gave her another spank.
She moaned again.
“Isn’t it?” I asked again, spanking her a little harder.
“Yes…” she said under her breath.
I gave her a good, firm spank on her other cheek. Watching her butt bounce with each blow had me swollen inside the plastic cage of the strap-on. I wanted to plunge my own cock between those cheeks.
“Say it,” I said to her, swapping sides again with my blows.
“I want it,” she said.
I knelt behind her, “You want what?” I asked as I landed another hit.
“I want you-“ I interrupted with a loud slap on her ass, watching the results up close, “-to spank me,” she finished.
She looked so good standing there bent over, her ass jutting towards my face, squirming. I took the waistband of her panties and pulled down slowly. When they were halfway down I stopped. I landed a blow on the top of each cheek and noticed her trembling along with her. I tugged them down a bit more and she leaned forward even more, sticking her ass towards me for a better view, begging for more abuse. Her smell drifted up from between her legs as her buttocks spread, giving me a view of her rear entry.
Damn, I wanted to lube that ass up and fuck her silly!
I gave each buttock another few spanks until she was quivering.
“Stay right there,” I said, fetching the gift bag.
She’d left me a few other surprises in the sack. I lifted her shirt off then pushed her hands back into position on the wall above her head. She leant forward, pushing her ass against me, and the toy between us. She knew how to make a man’s blood boil. I’d retrieved her leather cuffs from the bag and began to wrap them around her wrists. She moaned quietly without a hint of protest, more like a whimper of desire.
I clicked them together and pulled back again to admire the view, arms stretched above her head, wrists locked together, her long hair stretched down her back across muscles that rippled as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, the reddening of her buttocks just visible in the shadowed light, thighs clenched together and squirming.
And I was supposed to keep this up without whipping the toy cock off and slamming my real one into her?
It wasn’t easy but I knew she might change her mind if I started changing the rules.
I pulled her panties the rest of the way off, her smell filling the hall. She wasn’t the only one a bit moist. I could feel my own cock sticky inside it’s rubber prison.
I stepped beside her and rubbed her sore ass with one hand, “Do you want some more?”
I wasn’t sure of her limits – just how rough could she want it? She was already well past the amount of abuse I would’ve enjoyed, but she was obviously turned on.
“P-please…” she said, still squirming.
I turned her around. She started to lean in to kiss me but I pushed her gently against the wall, hands over her head. Again, the sight made me want to take her right then and there but I kept up the game.
I lifted the leather paddle out of the sack she’d given me.
“Do you want this?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said quietly.
I stepped up and took a nipple in my mouth. She tasted salty, a bit sweaty after a day’s work and the beginnings of a night’s pleasure. She moaned again. I shifted to her other breast, marveling at the size and firmness.
“Please…” she whispered.
Normally I’d take my time on such beautiful breasts but she had me as worked up as I had her. I took the dildo in one hand and planted the head between her legs.
“Oh!” she groaned.
I teased her with it for several strokes, just rubbing it over her wet lips. She pushed forward against it.
“Please what?” I asked.
“Please paddle me,” she replied, her voice hoarse.
I pulled back and took her by the hand and led her into the living room. Her couch was in the middle of the room so I took her to the back of it and bent her over it. Her feet barely touched the ground with her elbows resting on the seat. Her ass jutted into the air and her pussy was visible below. I pushed her legs apart and knelt for a closer look. Her lips opened slightly, already wet.
I leaned forward and bit her ass gently. She moaned and shook a little. I nibbled her other cheek and got the same reaction. I grabbed her cheeks and lifted them apart, pulling her pussy further open. I buried my face between her buttocks, my nose in her pussy and my tongue stretched out to her clit. Normally I’d take my time with such a task, working around the edges and finally concentrating on the more sensitive spots but tonight was not a night for gentle foreplay.
Instead I practically fucked her with my nose, working her clit with my tongue, getting all sorts of exciting sounds from her.
I stood and put the head of the dildo against her lips, held in place by the top of the couch. I grabbed one buttock in one hand and brought the paddle down on the other, not too hard. I still wasn’t sure just how rough she liked it. She let out a sigh and tried to push back onto the cock. I moved my hand and slapped the other cheek with the paddle, a bit harder. She let out a quiet moan, beginning to squirm a bit more. I gave her several more, each a bit harder and each getting a louder moan in response. She obviously liked things a *lot* rougher than I did.
I realized I was thrusting with my hips, my instincts getting the better of me. I spread her cheeks for a better look and saw the head of the dildo lodged in her entrance.
I pulled back, teasing her and getting a disappointed whimper as reward
“You want more?” I asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say it, wanting to *make* her say it.
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Please… please fuck me.”
I gave her another whack with the paddle instead. Her ass was red all over but I didn’t think I was bruising her yet. I switched gears and went with quick, lighter slaps until she interrupted me, “Please…”
Her voice had a whimper in it now that I couldn’t resist.
I dropped the paddle aside and her hip with one hand and the dildo with the other. I pushed it in an inch and withdrew. She was shivering and working her mound against the back of the couch. I slid the head around her labia and pushed it in again, this time a bit farther. Her moans got a little louder, her whimper less disappointed when I withdrew again and repeated the procedure, a bit deeper again and again until I had three inches sliding in and out of her. Watching it push into her was just as frustrating as watching her suck on it – all the visuals with none of the tactile sensations. My instincts told me to slam into her but with so little physical stimulus coming through it was actually easy to override my desires and take my time.
A few thrusts later I was able to let go of the shaft and hold onto both hips. Each thrust got a little deeper, and resulted in louder moans, until I was finally pressed against her ass. The leather straps pointing to the dildo buried in her pussy, her jiggling ass reddened from all the spanking, her moans all combined to overwhelm my calm approach – I wanted to be rough, really rough, for the first time in my life.
I gripped her hips and began slamming into her, slow and hard. It was work, more like exercise than sex without the added motivation I’d normally get from my own cock, but I kept it up, hard and fast, until her moans stopped suddenly so she could gasp, “Oh… god… I’m… coming!”
I hadn’t wanted her to go over the edge so soon but I wasn’t going to stop in the middle of her orgasm, even if I could’ve, so I pushed on.
“Oh god oh god oh god” she said with each thrust, her head lifting up off the couch, sweaty hair sticking to her back. “OOOOOOHHHHHH!” she let out over the next few thrusts, the muscles in her back tensing all the while, then releasing as she let out a gasp and lay silent.
Again, I found it hard to stop. My instincts still said, “GO!”
“Get on the couch” I growled, stepping back. The fake cock slid from between her legs, slick and wet.
She flopped onto the couch, spreading her legs wide and looking up at me doe-eyed and mouth open under a mat of tangled hair, hands still cuffed together over her head.
I didn’t waste any time, awkwardly pushing the big cock into her open pussy. It slid in with an ease that amazed me. She sighed and pressed up against me, her legs wrapping around me to pull me in to the hilt.
I fucked her like that as long as I could, her sighs slowly building to groans, then to a steady stream of “Fuck me fuck me fuck me” until she came, a long “yesssssss” coming from her.
I was beat, even without an orgasm. I fell back onto the couch, the strap-on sliding out of her.
She let out an “Oh!”, followed by a wide grin.
She rolled forward and took the dildo in her mouth. Her fingers slid under my balls again as she took as much of the shaft into her as she could manage. With her ass in the air, the look on her face, the glistening fake cock sliding in and out of her mouth and her fingers tugging at my balls it was only a few seconds before my desire overcame my worn-out state.
She tugged at the buckle and released the straps. She pulled the dildo off without even letting go of my balls and took my own cock in her mouth for the first time.
I thought her lips felt good on my *mouth*…
She bobbed up and down, taking the entire length into her throat. In a few strokes I’d all but forgotten about the toys, the teasing, or even my feelings about her as the orgasm took over my whole body. She sucked down every spurt and kept it up until it tickled and I pulled away.
She sat up with a big smile, winked at me and said, “Thanks for a fun evening.”
I was still catching my breath, “That’s what friends are for.”
She leaned in and gave me a deep kiss, my taste still evident in her mouth.
“Next time I’ll show *you* what friends are for,” she whispered in my ear.
She gathered the toys up and tossed me my clothes. I was obviously supposed to leave, just as I’d begun to think I was staying over.
But I didn’t argue. I was still flying high from the encounter.
On the way home my contentment faded. She was going to do something similar to me. Maybe I’d enjoy it, maybe I wouldn’t, no matter what she’d promised. It wasn’t the sex acts themselves that had me worried – it was because I was falling in love with her and the kinky sex was too intense to be just casual. There were definitely strings attached, no matter what I’d promised.



A week later I took Kayla to a gallery opening. There was be plenty of pretty, young flesh there – an event I normally would’ve enjoyed but Kayla was back to her distant, cool self. At one point I went to fetch us drinks but when I turned around my not-a-date-date was flirting with a handsome guy so I decided to let him fetch her drink and meandered through the crowd.
I saw the art and had a couple of drinks before going in search of Kayla. I spotted her looking around, maybe looking for me or maybe not.
Either way, I walked over, “Any luck?”
“I gave him my number. Jealous?”
“Should I be?”
“He wanted to take me out tonight but I didn’t want to run off on my date.”
“So is this a date?”
“You know what I mean.”
I didn’t answer, but no, I didn’t know what she meant.
“Tonight I just want to get drunk, go home and masturbate myself to sleep,” she said matter-of-factly. “Buy me a drink?”
“Of course.”
We went to a bar down the block for a couple of drinks, chatting about pretty much anything but sex or our relationship. Before we knew it the bartender was yelling out for last call.
It wasn’t far to her house, but neither of us were very talkative. I was considering telling her how I felt, but fear got the better of me.
“Thanks for the date,” she said as we pulled into her driveway. She leaned in to give me the kiss on the cheek before my bravery could build. “Next time I get to plan, ok?”
“No problem.”
“I’ll call you next week. Be careful getting home.”


We went out a few more times, seemingly just as friends. I kept wondering if each date night would be either the one where I’d get the balls to tell her I was falling for her, hard, or the one where her plan to screw me would come to fruition. But even with all the time we’d spent together I felt like if I told her how serious I was about her she’d run away. So I just bided my time.
For her side of the bargain we’d made, she was either surprise me or she had decided against it. About the time I stopped worrying about it I was surprised to find her in my driveway as I walked out the door on my way to work. She got out of the car, wrapped in an overcoat against the cold morning air, and walked towards me. I was worried something was wrong - why else would she be at my place on a Monday at 8 AM? Car broken down? House burned down? Fight with a date?
She walked right past me, “Call in sick.”
Her demeanor told me nothing was wrong, she was just calling in her side of the deal.
I thought about what I had schedule at work that day and decided I could call in sick (as if I had any choice.) I followed her in, already dialing my cell. I was leaving a message for my boss when she hung up her overcoat and distracted me.
She had on a nice black men’s suit that fit her – well, not quite like a man, but definitely not something feminine. But it was the bulge in the crotch that had me stammering on the phone. I realized her hair was pulled back in a tight bun at the back of her head. She must’ve had on a sports bra or something because her ample chest was minimized. She didn’t look male, but she wasn’t nearly as feminine as her normal Venus shape.
I finished leaving my message and sat my briefcase down.
“Get in the bedroom and take your clothes off,” she said.
I had my shirt off before I reached the top of the stairs.

I continued stripping in the bedroom while she stood in the door, hands in her pockets just watching. Her bag sat on the floor next to her and I wondered what else she’d brought with her.
“Cute ass,” she said as I tossed my underwear.
My cock was already swelling.
She picked up the bag and walked right up to me, “You trust me, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Put your hands over your head.”
Out of the bag she pulled the same leather cuffs I’d used on her a few weeks before. She pushed me back a step until I was against the post on my four-poster bed. She cuffed my hands to the post above me. Then she started dropping things out of the bag onto the bed beside me, casually laying out her things as if they were tools for a job she was about to perform – lube, the paddle, a blindfold.
She stepped back and looked me up and down. My cock was half hard, betraying my desire. Even as anxious as I was about what was about to happen, having her in my own bedroom got me… interested.
She reached over at arm’s length and dragged her fingers lightly over me, as if inspecting a sculpture or something. It got sent goose bumps running over me. Her hand moved over my cock casually, no slower or faster than anywhere else on my body, down over my balls and thigh, back up my side to pinch my nipple, no longer with a light touch but a sharp, hard pinch, forcing me to gasp. She held it like that for a moment, moving her other hand to my other nipple to do the same until I whimpered and squirmed. When she finally release me the blood rushed back into my nipples, making me whimper again.
She stepped close and put her mouth on my nipple, only sucking lightly but she’d made my nipples so sensitive it felt ten times more intense than it should have. Her fingers trailed over my balls and I let out a sigh. But it turned to a yelp as she bit down and her fingers gave my sac a firm tug. Her mouth pulled away but her hand kept up the pressure, “You’re mine today.”
She moved to the other nipple and did the same thing, sucking gently then nibbling and causing me a mix of pleasure and pain.
Still clutching my balls in one hand, she raised up kissed me forcefully, obviously playing the manly, aggressive role. Her free hand held me by the back of the head. She didn’t *need* to force me, but she was obviously enjoying it. Her hand released my balls, allowing me to relax a bit. Her fingers trailed up over my shaft, getting a shiver out of me.
She returned her mouth to a nipple, again starting tenderly. But this time she didn’t shift gears quickly. Instead she slowly sucked harder, licked a bit less moment by moment, began using her teeth gently, then a bit harder – it seemed to last an hour, though I’m sure it was no more than five minutes. As she did this she stroked my cock, gently at first but then her grip increased with the abuse on my nipple. When she finally pulled away my nipple burned and tingled while she squeezed my cock as hard as she could.
She moved to the other nipple and did the same, this time getting even rougher until I took in a sharp breath.
She let go and giggled a bit, then moved back to the other nipple and worked on it until I gasped again. Both my nipples were throbbing, as was my cock in her hand. I couldn’t believe how quickly she had me worked up.
She changed techniques again, her fingertips barely touching my cock, delicately tracing over my balls. She tickled and teased until I was shaking all over then stopped, stepping back to stare at me again, making me look at her in her suit. She smiled and reached for the blindfold. As she slid it over my head she pressed against me. I could feel the toy in her pants against my thigh, making me anxious at what was to come.
She pulled away again and I heard her unzip. Then something brushed over the head of my cock – slick and rubbery. I imagined how she must look, holding the dildo in her hand and running it over my cock. She ran it down the length of my shaft, back up and around the head and down again until it ran over my balls.
She pulled away then suddenly her mouth was on my cock. I jumped, pulling at the bedpost. Her mouth felt incredible, her big, soft lips and wet tongue working the head of my cock. She sucked my length in, tugging gently at my balls with her hand. Her other hand slid up my thigh so her fingers could run over my ass. She was *good.*
She kept it up until I was on the brink, then pulled her mouth off and just swirled her tongue around my head. I was shaking head to toe, my balls contracting and ready. She held me on the edge there until I relaxed a bit, then she started again, taking my shaft deep into her mouth. She worked me up again until I was moaning “oh god…” and stopped again, this time not even touching my throbbing cock. I shivered for a minute then came down again, until her mouth sank to the base of my cock yet again.
This time when I got so close I couldn’t take it, “Oh don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
Of course she stopped. She stood, one hand still massaging my balls and another wrapping around my shaft.
Her mouth was suddenly at my ear again, “You like this?”
“Y-yes…”
The head of the dildo was rubbing over mine again.
“I’ve got a surprise for you.”
I just whimpered. I wasn’t sure I wanted any more surprises.
Suddenly the dildo came to life, vibrations emanating from it, through my own cock seemingly through my entire body.
I gasped, “Ohhh goddammn…”
One hand held the base of my cock, holding me still, while she rubbed the vibrating dildo around my head. The sensation was so intense I thought I was going to lose my mind.
“Shit… please….”
“Please what?”
“Please… make me… cum.”
“No.”
“Oh!”
“You know what happens next?”
I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to answer. I just wanted her to give me a firm enough stroke to get me off. But I might as well have been a marionette under her hand.
“Beg me to suck my cock,” she whispered in my ear.
Something about it triggered a wave of submissive feelings in me. I had been resisting it, but blindfolded, handcuffed, the vibrator brushing over my cock every few seconds and her ordering me to do something from my deepest fantasies – there was no denying it any longer.
“Let me suck your cock,” I said shakily.
“Beg.”
“Please… please let me suck your cock.”
“On your knees,” she replied.
I slid to my knees, my hands still trapped over and behind my head, cuffed to the bedpost. I heard the buzzing vibrator stop and she pulled the blindfold free and I opened my eyes to find a cock in my face – not the real thing, but as close as it could get. Flesh colored, about the same size as my own, jutting from her open zipper, the head slick with my own pre-cum.
She wrapped her fingers around the base and pushed it toward my mouth, “Open up.”
I opened my mouth but she didn’t push it between my lips. Instead, the rubbed it across my cheek, down under my chin, over the other cheek and pulled away.
“Beg,” she said again.
“Please let me suck your cock.”
I’d like to say I was just playing along, hoping this would result in something better later on, but she had me completely under control. I looked up to meet her gaze – she had the same gleam in her eyes as she’d had when she’d started making out with me in the car, seemingly ages ago.
She pressed the head of the plastic cock against my lips. I took the cock in my mouth, tasting a mix of myself, latex and something else. As she pushed a couple of inches into my mouth I realized it was her taste. She’d been using it on herself before she’d strapped it on for me. It made it even more a part of her in my mind.
Her hand slid down the base, her fingertips reaching into her open fly to her pussy below. Her other hand tangled in my hair. I concentrated on putting on the best show I could, pulling back to roll my tongue around the head before going down for another suck.
I could smell her excitement. I turned my head to run my mouth the length of her shaft, staring up at her with what I hoped was a sexy look. Her eyes were focused on my mouth. Her mouth was open, subtly mimicking my motions.
I when back to sucking as much of the shaft into my mouth as I could manage. Her hand gripped my hair tighter, telling me she was enjoying the show. I fell into a rhythm, trying to avoid the mental picture of a real man with a real cock in my mouth. I wanted to grab her ass, move a hand between her legs and feel her pussy, but my hands were trapped behind my head.
Her hand at the base of the cock kept moving. I imagined her fingertips circling her clit inches away. She started shivering, her other hand pushing my head down and up on the dildo. Again time seemed to stretch until I felt like I’d been at it for hours, her shaking a little more minute-by-minute. I thought she might have a small orgasm but it seemed like she couldn’t quite get there. Eventually she pulled back, the cock popping out of my mouth. She drew her hand from crotch and stuck her fingers in my mouth, filling it with her taste.
“You’re a good little cock-sucker,” she said above me.
She undid the cuffs from around the bedpost, “Get on the bed.”
I felt limp but crawled onto the bed, wishing for something other that what was probably coming next.
She pushed me face down and straddled my thighs. I could feel the sticky latex cock nestled between my cheeks. She leaned down and whispered in my ear “Do you remember what you did to my ass?”
“Yes,” I replied, shocked at the sound of my own voice – anxious and weak.
“I’m going to do the same thing to you until you beg me to fuck you.”
I whimpered in reply.
She lifted off me and I heard her dig something out of the bag, guessing what it was. She didn’t start with a hand and didn’t start gently, as I had. The paddle made a loud *crack,* followed immediately by my yelp. I sucked in a breath between my teeth. She didn’t even wait for me to relax before landing another blow – she was obviously in a bigger hurry to make me beg than I had been with her.
She changed the location but didn’t lighten up, smacking me all over until every square inch of my behind burned. In trying to get away, I found myself thrusting against the bed, a mix of pain behind and pleasure in front.
She stopped. Before I could even catch my breath her nails dragged across my now-sensitive skin. I gasped, tense all over.
“Please…” I finally let out.
“Please?”
“Fuck me.”
Her lips touched my cheeks, now so sensitive her mouth felt like a hot poker.
She kissed my butt all over, from the small of my back to my thighs. Her fingers slid up my thigh to caress my balls. I instinctively spread my legs for her. Her hand cupped my balls and tugged upward, hard.
“Up,” she said behind me.
I moved to my knees, but didn’t look back. I wasn’t sure I was ready for what was probably coming next. I was surprised to feel her hand pull at my cock, now only half-hard with the adrenalin overload. Her other hand trailed over my balls lightly, then up to my rear entrance. She tugged on my cock and tickled my ass until I was hard again, thrusting forward in her grip then back against her fingertips. She stroked in time with me, getting me worked up again.
Her tongue touched my ass and I gasped in surprise. I’d had a girlfriend who liked to finger me back there when she gave head but this was nothing like that. Her tongue was hot, slippery, soft – fantastic. She slowly probed until she had me pushing back for more, rather than forward against the hand around my cock. What I had been dreading I now found myself desiring.
“Fuck me,” I whispered.
Her tongue pulled away, “You ready, my little slut?”
“Yes.”
“Beg,” she said, giving my ass another slap.
I tensed, “Please, Kayla. Fuck me.”
She fumbled for the lube and climbed up behind me. With one hand on my hip and guided me back until the tip of the dildo was pressed against my ass. I felt the lube pour down between my cheeks. She slid the dildo up and down, getting everything very slippery before returning the head into position. I tried not to tense up but there was no avoiding it.
“Keep breathing,” she said.
I sucked in a breath, realizing I’d been holding it. As I released it she pushed forward. My sigh turned into a moan as the dildo popped into me. She stopped and held me there for a moment, letting me get used to the sensation. When I started breathing again she pushed forward. I couldn’t tell how much was thrust into me before she stopped again.
Her fingers trailed over my sore buttocks. I lay still, huffing the short, quick breaths of someone worked into a frenzy, trembling.
“You want more?” she asked behind me.
I only moaned.
She started pulling back but I stopped her, “Oh, please.”
“Please what?”
“Fuck me.”
Another sharp blow landed on my ass. I let out another whine.
“Beg.”
“Please fuck me.”
She thrusting slowly but surely into me. When my ass pressed against her hips the tip of the cock inside me touched a nerve. I’d heard about prostate stimulation but never really experienced it – it took the wind out of me.
“Oh god!” I gasped.
“You like that?” she asked behind me.
“Y-yes…” I whimpered.
She eased back slowly, the shaft sliding out, then pushed back in to bump against my prostate again. I’d thought the way it stretched my anus was intense, but it was nothing by comparison. When she pulled back I got into the motion and pushed back against her has she came forward again.
“Ohhh…” she sighed behind me. Apparently she was enjoying the show.
We fucked like that for a few minutes, getting better at matching our rhythm, slowly building speed. But soon I couldn’t take it as hard as she wanted to give it to me. Doggie-style, she could push deep into me and it started to hurt.
“Oh!” I whimpered, starting to pull away from her aggressive thrusts.
“Roll over, you little slut,” she said, suddenly pulling the cock out of me, eliciting another whimpering gasp.
She was pulling her clothes off as I flopped onto my back. Soon she was naked except for the toy strapped to her. But this contraption was different than the one she’d leant me. The straps were clear plastic. Combined with the more realistic dildo, it could be real if I squinted.
She climbed onto the bed, squatting on her knees between my legs. She grabbed her cock and put nestled the head against my balls, then gave the base of the dildo a squeeze and the vibrator inside returned to life. It made me vibrate in response, head to toe.
She shifted until the head was against my ass. She didn’t go slow the second time around, pushing deep into me in one thrust. I let out a deep groan and concentrated on not tensing up. With my eyes shut, I have to admit I momentarily imagined that it was an actual man doing this to me, but when she moaned I opened my eyes and the picture changed. She was staring down, watching her toy push into me. Her nipples jutted and the look on her face was of a woman possessed. The next thrust bumped against that spot inside me again, making me moan loudly as the vibrations shot through my body, focused deep within me and radiating out like a shockwave.
“Oh god!” I gasped, barely able to breathe with the intensity of the feelings paralyzing every muscle in my body.
She pulled back, the feeling lessening a bit until she thrust in again. I opened my eyes again to see her shivering. The vibrations were working on her too. Soon she was fucking me fast and steady, her breasts jiggling, her face a mix of pleasure and concentration. She took my cock in hand and used it like a handle, pulling me down, pushing me away, pulling herself into me. She started shaking hard and moaning and it seemed like she was on the edge.
“Fuck me, Kayla.”
She glanced up with a shocked look on her face, as if, like me, she couldn’t believe I was enjoying this, then went back to staring at the cock pushing into me, letting go of my cock to grab the backs of my knees and lift them higher for a better view.
I wanted her to cum, even more than I wanted to myself. I reached up and pinched her nipples, “Fuck me, Kayla…”
She pushed a little harder and gasped, “oh… god… damn…”
I tugged on her nipples, “Come on… fuck me…”
She shivered and came, banging into me three or four more times, tilting her head back and letting out a long groan.
She finally stopped, buried inside me to the hilt.

I couldn’t stop moving. I wanted more. I reached down to stroke my cock. She giggled, “Wouldn’t you rather let me do that?” she asked.
I just stared up at her, probably looking helpless.
“Beg for it,” she said.
“Please…”
“Please what?”
“Please make me cum.”
She reached down and took my cock in hand. I lay back and enjoyed the feel of the buzzing inside me, squirming against her, thrusting into her hand.
But she pulled away.
“Oh!” I said in a disappointed whine.
The dildo popped free with the usual whimper from me. She lay down beside me and said, “Get on top.”
I reached for her, thinking I’d pull the harness off her and screw her silly, or just fuck her between the straps, but of course she had other things in mind.
“No,” she said, reaching down with both hands to grab the base of the strap-on, pointing it straight up to indicate exactly what she wanted.

Stifling my disappointment I straddled her hips and did my best to relax. The tip popped in easily. My gasp got her giggling again. I started to feel embarrassed about the whole morning but her hand gripped my shaft and suddenly I didn’t care.
I slid down until my hips rested on hers and I let out an “Oh!” from the vibrator making contact with the bundle of nerves inside me.
Her hands, slick with lubricant, slid down my cock. She slid them up again then teased the head of my cock with her fingertips. It made me thrust up against her hand, lifting my ass a few inches up the strap-on. She grasped me firmly and slid me right back down again.
I think that was the exact moment I realized I didn’t have a chance of having my way with her. If we ever did anything sexual she would always be in charge – it was just who she was. The idea brought my frustration level up another notch. I had been playing along so that eventually it would be my turn, so to speak. But I was clearly the loser in the game.
“Do it,” she said.
I slid up a couple of inches and back down again. As I did her hands slid up the length of my cock and down again. She grinned up at me, her eyes moving from my face to the scene below and back again. She played me like a piano, forcing me to thrust up into her slippery hands then forcing me down onto her cock, repeating the cycle again and again until my entire pelvis was a sexual organ being over-stimulated.
“P-please…” I begged. She wasn’t holding me firmly enough to get me to orgasm, just keeping me dancing on her lap.
“Come here,” she whispered.
I leaned down closer, the shaft inside me shifting position and stimulating me in new ways. Her hands let go of my cock and I whimpered in disappointment.
She held my face and kissed me passionately. I was the single hottest kiss of my life – her nipples brushing my chest, my cock rubbing against her belly, her cock buried in my ass.
She broke the kiss to whisper in my ear, “Can I tell you a secret?” she asked, still moving with me, my cock thrusting against her belly, her cock pushing into me.
“I think I like your cock just the size it is. When you came to my place I got off knowing thinking about you trapped inside my dildo.”
I just whimpered in response. Even just her breath in my ear got me closer to the edge. And her words made me feel simultaneously angry, frustrated, and utterly submissive. I’d read a few stories about the “head space” some submissives reach but never experienced it. It was a lot like a runner’s high, a constant flow of endorphins.
“Do you want more?” she asked.
“Y-yes,” I whined, not even caring what more of she was asking about.
“I have so many fantasies,” she said, one hand snaking between us to tickle the head of my cock with her fingertips.
I started to sit up so she could grasp me fully but she held me there, “No, stay with me.”
She pushed harder up into me and let more fingers slide over the head of my cock, now oozing non-stop against her smooth skin.
“Cum for me.”
I whimpered and thrust against her belly, the shaft inside me probing around with my movements. She shivered, letting me know she was enjoying this almost as much as I was. But she was still in charge. “Cum for me,” she whispered again.
I did as I was told. My orgasm was an explosion.
“Yeaaahhhh…” she sighed as I spurted between us.
She kissed my face as I continued to cum, her tongue teasing at the edge of my mouth. My spasms went on and on until I finally slowed to a stop and collapsed against her.
She held me tenderly, her fingers trailing down my back.
I couldn’t keep it inside me any more, “I love you Kayla.”
”I know,” she answered.
On one hand it felt good to say it. On the other, she hadn’t said it back. But I was in no condition to question or argue.
She let out a little giggle, changing the subject, “Still think some fantasies are better left unfulfilled?”
I didn’t answer.

A while later we got out of bed, things feeling suddenly awkward for me. I’d done things I’d never done, said things I wasn’t sure I should’ve said, but Kayla got dressed as if it was just another morning.
“Um… wanna do lunch?” I asked.
“Can’t,” she answered with the traditional kiss on the cheek, “gotta work.”
“Ok, um…” I started to say but she just winked and let herself out.

[dgenpres]

Kayla didn’t call for a couple of days so I called her. I wasn’t sure where we stood but I asked for a date anyhow.
In person it was even more awkward at first but eventually she cracked a joke, quoting that song about playing around with gender roles, and I made jokes back and the tension was released.
But as it got late my nervousness returned – should I ask her to come home with me? Lean in for a kiss? It seemed like the “friends with very weird benefits” situation that she had said she wasn’t interested in.
She interrupted my thoughts, “I know you’ve got to work in the morning so I won’t keep you out too late.”
“It’s not that late. We could do something else…” I trailed off.
“No, let’s make a late night of it this weekend. I not working Saturday night, for once.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant about making a late night of it. I know it’s usually the woman that gets touchy-feely “Where do you see this relationship going?” first, but I couldn’t keep up the casual, no strings attached attitude much longer.
As always, she would interrupt that train of thought in a shocking fashion.

Saturday night we had a fine time – dinner, a movie, a few too many drinks. We ended up calling a cab. My place was closer but I didn’t know if we were just splitting the cab or if she was staying over. I should’ve just outright asked but she seemed to be keeping me at arm’s length and I didn’t want to push it and chase her away.
The cab pulled up in my driveway and I dug out some cash. Kayla stepped out and headed for my door, answering the question without a word. I grinned stupidly at the cabbie. I’m sure he had a vague idea of why I was so happy, watching such a beautiful woman headed to my apartment.
I got to the door, swerving a bit from the booze.
“I hope you don’t mind if I sleep over,” she said.
“Of course not.”
“And I do mean just sleep.”
“Um… ok, whatever,” I said, thinking to myself, “We’ll see…”
Of course I should’ve known she’d run the show, as always, and should’ve expected the unexpected, but how could I not fantasize?

After a stop by the bathroom she undressed in a business-like manner in my bedroom. I made my move but she batted my hands away, “Not tonight. It’s that time of the month and I’m too drunk.”
I reached again but she pushed me away, “Get in bed.”
I clumsily pulled my clothes off and crawled into bed, determined to make another effort. But she rebuffed me again and suddenly I realized I was too tired and drunk myself.
“Maybe in the morning…” I thought.

I’m a pretty sound sleeper, even when I haven’t been drinking, which explains how I could wake up… like I did. The first thing I noticed was that Kayla was gone. The second thing I noticed was the present she’d left me. A small brass combination lock was latched around my scrotum.
“Holy shit…” I said out loud, staring at the device.
It was just small enough that I couldn’t get it off, even one ball at a time. I wasn’t sure at all what to make of the situation – was it a joke? Was she in the kitchen waiting to surprise me with some new fantasy?
I got up, the lock feeling odd against my sac. I had to adjust things a bit for comfort. In the bathroom I found her note – typed. She’d obviously thought this up in advance.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us. I told you I was on the rebound and didn’t want a relationship but I don’t think that’s the problem. I’ve never been able to maintain a monogamous relationship – I’ve always cheated. It’s the excitement of the affair that gets me. But I don’t want to do that to you. I like you, really.
So here’s my question – do you want to date for real?
Could you date me knowing I am not faithful?
Could you be faithful to me?
I know that is completely selfish and one-sided but I think the only way I can keep the excitement of having an affair – if I’m the one in charge. It turns me on even just writing about it.
But it’s unfair, I know, so if it’s not for you the attached envelope has the combination to the lock and we can go back to being friends, no hard feelings. Or you can deliver the envelope to me, unopened, and I’ll know you’re interested.
Think about it.
Kayla
p.s. yes, I’d be safe. Yes, I’d be honest. And yes, maybe sometime it could be all three of us together, if you’re interested (would you prefer another man or another woman?)”

“Holy shit…” I said.
Yes, I wanted to date “for real” but what would this be like? She’d be dating anyone she wanted and I’d be, what, waiting for her to come home?
Would she eventually settle down, or get bored and leave, or fall in love with another guy (or girl?) and leave me? Was I in for a serous heartbreak? Should I chance it anyway?
I realized I was tugging at my balls, trying to get a little more comfortable. It suddenly struck me as funny that if I didn’t open the envelope I was locked to her in more ways than one. I sat on the bed, shaking my head for a while. I decided to get in the shower and go through my usual Sunday morning routine before I made any decision. It was too much to think about to choose rashly.

By lunch I found myself headed to the café with the envelope in my pocket, unopened. I caught her eye as I walked in. I realized she looked nervous, perhaps for the first time since I’d known her. She cracked a smile, but an anxious one, and headed for my table.
I set the envelope down. She looked at it and smiled for real.
“Thank you,” she said, looking honestly relieved.
“Can we… talk a little about it?”
“Be at my apartment when I get off work? The key is under the mat.”
“ok”
There was a note at her place. She’d obviously thought this through, since she would’ve had to leave the note there before she’d left for work.
“I’m really glad you’re here. I really like you and I really want this. Make yourself at home. I’ll be here around 7.”
I let myself in and flopped down on the couch, tired after a late night and mentally challenging day.
Then suddenly I was waking up with Kayla kissing me. I’d nodded off waiting on her.
“Oh. Hi-“ I started, but her insistent kisses cut me off.
We had long, passionate kisses, a mix of tender, emotive touches and desperate, physical longing, the kind of kisses you only get with someone you have a special connection to. Then clothes started coming off. Her nipples in my mouth. Her lips at my ear, whispering.
“I thought about this all day.”
I pushed my cock against her, the lock making things uncomfortable.
“Can you get this thing off me?”
“Wear it for me tonight?” she said, her tone actually asking instead of stating an irrefutable fact, for once.
“O… ok,” I stuttered.
I moved my kisses from her breasts downward, over her smooth stomach to between her thighs. Her smell filled my nose and made the lock seem even tighter around my balls.
A few minutes later she came on my face, loud and hard. I kissed her thighs as she came down then moved to mount her but she squirmed down, pulling my cock toward her face.
She squeezed my shaft hard and sucked on my head. It was bliss, except for my hair and skin getting stuck in the lock. She tickled my taut balls with one hand while working my shaft with the other – utter perfection.
“Oh god…” I blurted out, surprised at how close to orgasm I already was. She was entirely too good at giving head.
She stopped, “This is so fucking hot…” and began licking my balls.
My legs shook. As good as her tongue felt on my sac, I wanted her mouth, her hand, anything back on my shaft. But her take-charge manner was in full force.
She teased me to the brink over and over until I was begging, then pushed me back between her thighs to lick her to orgasm again. Her second orgasm was as intense as the first. I envied her ability to get off so easily and repeatedly.
I crawled up to fuck her, only to have her roll away. At first I was confused but when she stuck her ass high in the air and presented her beautiful pussy I didn’t hesitate.
I grabbed her hips and pushed into her. I was surprised for a moment at how easily I slid in, but she’d had two orgasms. And she was used to toys a lot bigger than my cock. I watched her ass jiggle as I thrust into her. It was a dream come true.
A few strokes into it she gasped, “The… lock… is… smacking… into… my… clit….”
“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling back, thinking I was hurting her.
“Don’t you dare stop!” she said.
I went back to it, feeling the lock bouncing between us. She started moaning in the way same way she had when I’d fucked her with the big dildo – she was close. Her pussy clutched at my cock, practically sucking the cum out of me. I wanted to fuck her to a dozen orgasms, leave her dazed and exhausted, show her we didn’t need toys or affairs or anything to have spectacular regular sex.
“Regular sex” I say, with a padlock around my scrotum…
But I couldn’t last. I came hard, an hour’s worth of buildup spurting from me.
We collapsed in a sweaty heap.

She snuggled up against me as we caught our breath.
“So will take this lock of yet?” I asked.
“Mmm. Let me see,” she said, rolling over to inspect the sticky situation that was my groin.
She flicked at the tumblers and the lock popped loose. I let out a big sigh of relief
“This doesn’t mean you’re free of my evil clutches,” she said, only a bit sarcastically.
“Thank you,” I said, kissing her.
“I want you to wear it for me to work tomorrow,” she whispered.
“Um… I’ll see. I’m not sure if it’s going to show through my slacks.”
“What, you don’t want your package looking bigger?” she said, again only half sarcastically.
I kind of shrugged and tried to drop it, hoping she’d let it go.
But of course I was adjusting myself in the car in the morning, the lock tight around my scrotum. It wasn’t always uncomfortable, but it did keep her on my mind all day.
Of course I know that was the plan all along…


A couple of months of bliss went by. The sex was intense and often kinky, with variations of the previous encounters – me fucking her brains out with the dildo on her kitchen table. Her teasing me through her panties until I came on her belly. Me tied up and thrown over the back of her couch so she could fuck me for half an hour. And so on.
We talked about the half-open relationship, what it did for her, what it did *to* me. But as the weeks went by I didn’t think much about it, since she hadn’t started dating anyone else.
We met for lunch one day. She came up to my office and asked the same questions everyone asks when they first walk in the door. Our offices share a building with a hotel and my office faces the atrium, across which you can see the windows of the hotel.
“So… every seen anything interesting?” she asked.
“A few times. Saw a naked lady once before she closed the curtains. A dude masturbating, probably watching porn. That’s about it.”
I didn’t think twice about it, but now I know it was the moment her plans clicked into place.
A couple of Fridays later we had a date. We hadn’t had much time together in a couple of weeks just because of conflicting work schedules. At 3 that afternoon I got a call from the reception desk that I had a package waiting. I wasn’t expecting anything so I was already curious. I picked it up and saw my name in Kayla’s handwriting on it. She’d obviously delivered it by hand. Even as curious and confused as I was, I figured I should wait until I got to the office behind closed doors to open it.
Inside was a pair of binoculars and a note, “Be back at your desk tonight at 9.”
I was supposed to pick her up at 9, but obviously plans had changed.
I left work at the usual time and got a bite while fantasizing about what might be on her agenda. I imagined spying on the hotel together from my office, making love on my desk, the usual things that would go through a guy’s head. But if you’ve been following my tales you know they never go as I imagine.
I got back to the office a little early, figuring I’d have to let her into the building. I sat scanning the hotel windows with my new binoculars but there wasn’t much to see. It was too early for most folks to be in their rooms doing anything exciting. I poked around on the web to try to distract myself but as the minutes ticked by I got more nervous and excited, waiting on Kayla. My cell buzzed, startling me in my daydream state.
“5th floor, last on left” the text message said.
Huh? Was she watching from somewhere else?
I picked up the binoculars and looked out, counting up to the fifth floor. In the last window on the left there was a couple moving around. They started kissing just as I focused in and realized – Kayla wasn’t watching with me, she was the woman I was watching. Her date was tall, good looking, well dressed. Kayla was in a nice, feminine business suit, something I’d never seen her in before.
A wave of mixed emotions washed over me. Was I supposed to be turned on? Was I supposed to join them?
One by one the conversations over the last couple of weeks replayed in my head. The box with binoculars didn’t have other instructions – it didn’t need them.
I was supposed to watch and decide if I enjoyed it or not. It was the way Kayla worked, constantly teasing and testing, pushing my buttons, pushing my boundaries.
These thoughts took only a moment while I watched as they continued kissing, hands roaming over each other. If I hadn’t known Kayla and had stumbled onto this scene I definitely would’ve been turned on. Kayla had asked if I liked to watch, I had confessed I had. It was another piece of the puzzle that led to that Friday.
Had it been someone else, I would’ve hoped they didn’t think about the open curtains, or were putting on the show on purpose, and would end up fucking like crazy while I watched.
But it wasn’t someone else. Kayla’s date kissed her neck while working her shirt off. She tilted her head back in pleasure, then turned and looked right at me. I knew she couldn’t actually see me across the 75 yards or so of the atrium and behind the glass of my semi-reflective window but she was letting me know she wanted me to see, that she was thinking of me.
Somehow that was all it took to shift me from unease to excited.
“Oh shit… “I whispered, sort of pitying myself. This woman was bad and was going to lead me deeper into places I wasn’t sure I wanted to go.
Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling his face between her breasts. He nuzzled there before moving to each breast, kissing the skin he exposed as he tugged on her bra. Her breasts popped free and he took a nipple in his mouth. I longed to be the one sucking on her amazing nipples but instead found myself squeezing on my own cock, suddenly hard.
Soon she pulled him back up and unbuttoned his shirt. He was in far better shape than me, obviously a guy who spent time at the gym every day. She didn’t waste any time getting his clothes off. In a few seconds she had him naked, her hand stroking his hard cock. That, too, was something that made me feel strange. It wasn’t porn-sized or anything but it was definitely bigger than mine. She had reassured me about the size of my own cock, but really she liked it because she knew it was one of the many ways she could control me.
She knelt in front of him and took his shaft into her mouth.
“Holy shit…” I heard myself whisper.
She clutched as his ass, pushing more of his shaft between her lips. She was obviously enjoying herself and even with this guy she ran the show.
And what a show. She looked up at him as she worked his head, licking and sucking and diving down onto his cock only to let it pop loose and rub on her face.
My own cock was oozing, making a wet spot on my slacks. I had to pull it out or I’d be walking around with a dark stain later. Or maybe that’s just the excuse I used to start stroking myself freely.
Kayla worked on her date for a long time. He reached down to put his hands on her head but she slapped them away. I nodded, thinking, “Yeah, she won’t put up with that.”
Even through the binoculars I could tell she had him close. He was shaking and she kept stopping to lick his balls and squeeze his cock instead of stroking him. It was a routine she’d used on me a lucky few times.
My balls were tight against the lock. She would ask me to wear it on the days we had dates, never letting me know what the combination was. I’d gotten to where I actually enjoyed wearing it, knowing it would make me horny as hell all day and by the time our date rolled around I’d be so worked up any sex we had would be spectacular.
But it wasn’t us having sex. It was Kayla and another man.
I guess it was “sex” in a way, a three-way of a strange sort.
Kayla’s date kept throwing his head back in pleasure and torment before returning to watch her suck on his cock. She started a steady rhythm again, sucking, stroking, fondling his balls. Then she turned her head just enough to let me know she knew I was watching as he shook in orgasm. She let one spurt hit her check before sucking the rest out of him, spasm by spasm.
It was nasty, beautiful and amazing what she was doing to him.
It was terrifying what she was doing to me.
She used his cock to wipe the cum off her face and then sucked that off him too.
If it had been anyone else I would’ve beaten off right there at my desk. But the sea of emotions inside me had me… stalled.
Kayla stood and pulled her clothes off. I suddenly realized she was wearing the same underwear she had on our last date. I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. She pulled her date to the bed and pushed his head between her legs. I wondered if I looked like more or less of a ragdoll than her current date when she and I were together. She was too confident to ignore but could someone else “tame” her? Would she be a more normal date around the right guy? Submissive around the right guy? I have my doubts.
Her date licked her pussy but I was distracted. She was staring out the window with a big grin, aimed at me. Even just her looking at me, from 75 yards away while she had sex with someone else, was enough of a connection to make me feel like part of the action, enough to let me know this was as much about me as it was her.
She started squirming, letting both he and I know that her date was on the right track. I could see her telling him what to do or to keep doing what he was doing. Her hands moved to his head, making sure he stuck with it. It took a while but eventually she bucked and bounced and came on his face.
He crawled up, obviously ready to fuck her, but she pushed him away and went for her purse. I was a little confused until she knelt in front of him, rolling a condom onto his cock. I hadn’t even thought about it. It seems like Kayla is *always* thinking.
She got on her hands and knees on the bed, lifting her amazing ass to him. He didn’t bury his face in her ass or slowly tease her with his cock as I would have. He just pushed in and started fucking.
I think she was staring out the window at first. I couldn’t take any more and pulled my own cock out and stroked in time to their movements. Soon her eyes were clenched shut, her mouth open. I could imagine her moans as he fucked her hard and fast. He was obviously more practiced at it than I was. He thrust steadily like it was an exercise, like it wasn’t the best pussy he’d ever felt in his life, like he could go until she begged for mercy. On one hand I was jealous of his ability, but on the other I’m not sure I wanted to be so jaded. For me, it still felt like a privilege.
After a while he flipped her over, pulled her legs over his shoulders and went at her from the front. She smiled and clutched at the sheets, obviously enjoying herself. He banged into her like that for a while, then spread her legs wide and thrust into her. Her hand snaked down, pulling his legs up so she could reach down and behind and tickle his balls. It worked. His thrusts got less mechanical, more desperate.
I reached down and fondled my balls, tight with the lock squeezing them. I imagined it was Kayla’s hand, clutching at my balls the way he was clutching at his. When I stroked my cock again I lost it, spurting onto the carpet, my pants, the chair, everywhere. I’d wanted to contain the mess, maybe not even cum, but couldn’t stop.
A dozen or so more strokes and Kayla’s date lost it too, tensing up as he came. I felt funny a few moments later, realizing he’d lasted longer than I had – and I was only fucking my hand.
He came down and moved to kiss her but she pushed him away, rolling out from under him. Even I could tell she was done with him.
He tossed the condom into the trash and got dressed. She lounged until he was ready to go. He leaned in and she gave him a familiar kiss on the cheek. He headed for the door and she got up and stared out the window, naked. I wondered who else might be watching the scene. When they were on the bed they were far enough back so that only a few people in the direct line of sight could’ve seen, and there was rarely anyone there on a Friday night after 6. But standing at the window, almost anyone could’ve spotted her. She pulled something out of her purse and my phone buzzed.
“Room 502 in 10 minutes, if you want?” read the text message.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted. After my orgasm my brain was back in gear and sending very mixed messages.
Kayla turned and headed for the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
I cleaned up as best I could, still wondering what to do next.

Soon I found myself at the ground floor – decision time. Walk out of the atrium, possibly out of Kayla’s life, or across the atrium to the hotel elevator, possibly deeper into Kayla’s web?

At the door of 502 I told myself it wasn’t too late to turn around. I heard the shower running inside. I felt foolish standing in the hall. I hoped no other guests would spot me standing there, spots on my pants, probably right after they’d heard what had been going on. They’d think I was some kind of pervert.
Which I was. Thanks to Kayla’s doing.
I heard the shower stop. I gave her a minute then knocked. Even my knock sounded timid, hesitant.
The door opened, but only halfway. She was there in a bathrobe, looking a bit concerned. I had a moment of worry, wondering if she was ok, if something had gone wrong with her plan.
“Are you ok?” she asked.
Funny that I’d be the one worried about her.
“Uh… yeah.”
She smirked, “Are we *really* ok?” she asked, the sparkle in her eyes telling me she was asking if I’d enjoyed it.
“Yeah,” I said, sheepishly.
“Then get in here,” she said, opening the door the rest of the way.
She took me by the hand and led me over to the window and pulled me close for a kiss. I imagined it was deeper, more passionate that the ones I’d just seen exchanged at that very same spot less than an hour before.
Suddenly I wanted her, wanted to be hers, maybe more than ever.
She must’ve sensed it. Maybe my whimper gave it away, maybe my stance changed, but something triggered her and her dominant demeanor surfaced. She pulled my head between her breasts, the same way she’d done with her date. I kissed and nibbled on her breasts, just as he’d done. She stripped me, just as she’d done with him, pulling my cock to its full hardness. She took me into her mouth, looking up at me the entire time with a fierce expression. She had me and she knew it. I’d made my choice, if I’d really had one in the first place.
She worked slowly, building me up and then stalling, building me higher and stalling again. I flashed back to her date spurting on her face and tried to reach the same end but she wouldn’t let me get there, actually pinching my orgasm off at the base of my cock.
When I was shivering and whimpering non-stop she took hold of the lock still clamped around my balls and gave it a tug, then started rolling the dials of the combination until it clicked open. She delicately pulled the lock free and went back to sucking my shaft right up to the edge of orgasm yet again. She stopped, of course, and pulled her mouth away, gripping the base of my cock and holding me still.
“You want to fuck me for real?” she whispered.
“Yes!” I said, realizing I was frantic where her date had been comparatively calm and collected.
Some part of my mind wanted to ask, “What are you doing to me?” but other parts of me were in charge.
*Kayla* was in charge.
She walked around the bed and unzipped an overnight bag and pulled out the hollow dildo. I whimpered. When she’d said “for real” I thought she meant my actual cock fucking her, not “give her a really good fucking.”
But did I argue? Did I ask, “Can we just make love?” Or did I stand there while she patiently, coolly strapped the thing to me?
You know the answer.
She presented her ass the same way she’d done for her date. I moved behind her, feeling suddenly… calm. With the latex cock over mine, I could take my time. I could be the fuck machine her date had been. I could be even better, since I knew what she liked. And it meant more to me than it had to him, than it ever could. So rather than drive into her in desperation, as she was goading me to do, or thrust into her with determined coldness, as her date had, I could do… more.
I knelt and nibbled her ass. She moaned in appreciation. I slapped the other cheek, hard. She sighed, then spread her legs wider. I knelt behind her and spanked her, alternating cheek to cheek. She squirmed, hands clutching at the sheets in the way they had when her date was doing his best – and I had barely started.
I slid the dildo between her legs, over her lips. I lifted her hips, pulling her legs together so that she held the dildo in place against her pussy between her thighs, then resumed spanking her. Her ass jiggled in the most amazing way, her skin slowly turning red as I worked on her. I gripped her hip to hold her steady while tickling her asshole with the tip of my thumb. She squirmed against the dildo, letting me know she wanted more. When she lifted her ass higher her anus opened to me, allowing my thumb to push inside her. I pulled back until the dildo slid free then put the head against her pussy, now gaping and wet.
She slid back against me, taking the to the hilt in one long stroke. I held her hip with one hand and grabbed her hair with the other and fucked her like her date never could – with a mix of jealousy, anger, frustration, infatuation, love and total commitment, “making love” and “hate fucking” at the same time.
She wailed in pleasure, as if in a non-stop orgasm.

I’d like to say I lasted longer than her date, fucking her in 12 different positions until she outright bawled, but even after jerking off in my office and trapped inside a latex prison I couldn’t keep my orgasm at bay forever, especially when she reached between her legs and grabbed my balls, echoing my office fantasy an hour before.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck” I groaned, exploding inside the latex toy that was both crutch and prison.
Maybe with enough practice I could do the same things to her with my own cock, but I suspected even then I’d never get the chance. Kayla loved the situation as it stood too much to change it.


I woke up in the middle of a dream about Kayla. She was stroking my cock and the cock of another man at the same time, grinning ear to ear.
Then I realized it wasn’t entirely a dream. Her fingers were stroking my cock softly. When she noticed I was awake she smiled, the same devilish grin of my dream, and moved down to take my cock in her mouth. It felt fantastic, my extremely swollen morning erection being caressed by her wet lips and tongue. It wasn’t long before I was close, already anticipating some kind of twist, some kind of game. She looked up with the usual wicket twinkle in her eye but kept the same steady rhythm. I knew she would cut me off any moment. As I got closer and closer I had to stifle my own feelings. I wanted to beg, “Please don’t stop this time.”
But then the twist came – there was no twist. As the orgasm rolled out of me she *didn’t* stop. She sucked every spurt down, even kissed my cock sweetly afterward.

I reached for her to return the favor but she just pinned me to the bed and whispered in my ear, “Last night was the single hottest lay I have ever had.”
She must’ve seen the troubled look flash across my face. She leaned in and kissed me sweetly, “Don’t worry. I don’t think I want to spoil it by repeating it any time soon.”
I rolled over onto her but she stopped me, “Sorry, too sore for any action today. But I still owe you.”
She pulled me closer to whisper again, “Today I will suck your cock any time you want.”
My brain just about shut down. What male wouldn’t want to hear that?
We showered together, me feeling better and better about the night’s events as We got some breakfast at a café down the street then I walked her back to the parking deck. I walked her to her car and kissed her. She felt fantastic against me, somehow soft and affectionate. Maybe it was just the comparison to her usual manner.
I looked around. There’s not much traffic in our complex on the weekends unless the hotel is hosting a convention. She realized what was on my mind and didn’t even bat an eye.
Ten minutes later I was on the edge of orgasm with her squatting on the concrete at my feet, sucking on me with abandon. After the morning’s delights and promises I wasn’t ready for her to stop me on the brink in her usual fashion.
I let out a short whine.
She looked up, holding the base of my cock in a strong grip, “I said I’d suck on you, I didn’t say I’d get you off.”

How can anyone expect the unexpected?

[TeasingCat]

Amazing story. The first scene with the clear hollow dildo just left me speechless and the following scenes were also just fantastic. Great teasing femdom story.

[flpanther]

What a great ride!!