The Sinful Vixen Whorehouse
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Luna_Wolf72
CinnaWolf circa 2023
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Three inch heels click against the floor and brown skinned woman strolls in. She is dressed professionally, elegantly. Head to toe, black. Dress slacks, fitted cotton tee, black choker, small onyx earrings. With steady strides, she makes her way to the bar. One finger pops up and beckons a server over.
"I need a sloe screw. Sloe gin heavy, light on the vodka and OJ."
She turns away then and allows her eyes to glance around the place, noting the changes that have happened since her last visit. It is too quiet here. Too quiet by half. That needs to change.
"I need a sloe screw. Sloe gin heavy, light on the vodka and OJ."
She turns away then and allows her eyes to glance around the place, noting the changes that have happened since her last visit. It is too quiet here. Too quiet by half. That needs to change.
Light Ice
A Real Bastard
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His eyes track the familiar shape. Unforgettable, delicious, feminine shape that she cuts amidst the dim light and shifting crowd. I wait for her to find me in my seat, pale eyes burning a masculine appraisal across her modestly dressed curves. They conceal a goddess' shape, dark skin, lusting femininity.
My prick jumps inside my pants. My glass is drained a bit more quickly, now.
Luna_Wolf72
CinnaWolf circa 2023
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Light brown eyes stop as they come upon him. Sitting there, exuding some sort of chemical scent that means she HAS to walk over and say hello. Of course, she won't say that out loud. Too controlled for that by far. The server returns with her drink. She tips the girl but pays no more attention to her. That is not where her eyes land, that is not what causes the warmth to gather in the silk that covers her cunt.
She takes a sip, steadying herself and allows the crowd to push her toward him. Her hips move, slightly. A minor hint of the heat and inner slut, the professional clothes conceal. They aren't really a secret though. He has met that particular aspect, more than once.
"Imagine seeing you here."The voice is light, husky, teasing.
She takes a sip, steadying herself and allows the crowd to push her toward him. Her hips move, slightly. A minor hint of the heat and inner slut, the professional clothes conceal. They aren't really a secret though. He has met that particular aspect, more than once.
"Imagine seeing you here."The voice is light, husky, teasing.
Light Ice
A Real Bastard
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"We are an unlikely pair, doll." I reply. The hint of humor that touches my words does not stand to hide the deadly serious want laden in their undertones. "You and I, surrounded by a sea of women willing to sate our substantial desires. We're out of place."
It is thick, perhaps too much so, but I cannot help myself because it is -so- fucking ironic. It begs the question, as my eyes briefly leave her own and slice their way across the scant-clad flesh sashaying this way and that, just how many of these women have we shared? How many bear our marks upon their skin? It is an erotic thought. I am certain that if anyone could extract as much pleasure from these girls as I am able it is this one, dark-skinned, confident.
I am inspired to reach, shamelessly, and close my hand to her own. The rough stretch of my fingers serves to envelop her own, slender. Surprisingly strong. I've learned the talent of these little fingers and to respect it. I've learned to want her, ferociously, and to smother it when necessary to keep from devouring her everytime we pass one another.
They call her the Wolf.
It is unfitting. She is so much more than a wolf. There is an almost unholy intensity to the way this woman lives. It is why I pull on her small fingers, tug her into the seat beside me.
The power she conceals is intoxicating in this proximity.
It is thick, perhaps too much so, but I cannot help myself because it is -so- fucking ironic. It begs the question, as my eyes briefly leave her own and slice their way across the scant-clad flesh sashaying this way and that, just how many of these women have we shared? How many bear our marks upon their skin? It is an erotic thought. I am certain that if anyone could extract as much pleasure from these girls as I am able it is this one, dark-skinned, confident.
I am inspired to reach, shamelessly, and close my hand to her own. The rough stretch of my fingers serves to envelop her own, slender. Surprisingly strong. I've learned the talent of these little fingers and to respect it. I've learned to want her, ferociously, and to smother it when necessary to keep from devouring her everytime we pass one another.
They call her the Wolf.
It is unfitting. She is so much more than a wolf. There is an almost unholy intensity to the way this woman lives. It is why I pull on her small fingers, tug her into the seat beside me.
The power she conceals is intoxicating in this proximity.
Luna_Wolf72
CinnaWolf circa 2023
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His words have the effect of tossing gasoline at a grass fire. My inner heat roils outward. It is odd, meeting him here. A place where everything is allowed, encouraged and it all costs whatever you think it should, depending on the woman servicing you...or the man. My eyes drift towards his and I lose myself in their glittering hardness, that sheen of prime male bastard hidden, barely, just below the surface.
And then, his strong, slightly callused hand reaches out to grip mine. I need air. He always takes away my air. Of course, I can't say THAT. Doesn't matter if he knows it...but I won't ever say it. I am a hard riding bitch. Wolf in every way and damned proud of it all. Yet. And yet. I find myself sinking into a chair, beside him, my legs scissored into a comfortable position, three inch pump dangling from my toes.
I try to fight off the urge. I can't. So I lean in and brush his ear with my voice, tongue tip darting out to taste his flesh.
"You know it has been long and long since I have had a proper partner for practicing on. Why do you think that is?"
The hand that isn't cradling my drink, moves to his thigh, nails pressing into the fabric that covers his skin. he really shouldn't take so long to visit me. I get hungry, quickly.
And then, his strong, slightly callused hand reaches out to grip mine. I need air. He always takes away my air. Of course, I can't say THAT. Doesn't matter if he knows it...but I won't ever say it. I am a hard riding bitch. Wolf in every way and damned proud of it all. Yet. And yet. I find myself sinking into a chair, beside him, my legs scissored into a comfortable position, three inch pump dangling from my toes.
I try to fight off the urge. I can't. So I lean in and brush his ear with my voice, tongue tip darting out to taste his flesh.
"You know it has been long and long since I have had a proper partner for practicing on. Why do you think that is?"
The hand that isn't cradling my drink, moves to his thigh, nails pressing into the fabric that covers his skin. he really shouldn't take so long to visit me. I get hungry, quickly.
Ausus_girl13
Rarely Behaved
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My bed is simply divine, the two girls I am sharing it with are completely dead to the world. Not that I killed them, but we did exhaust each other out last night. It's to my shower that I saunter, trailing sheet behind me like some tawdry train, humming somber music to myself, smelling of sex and alcohol. I've got to stop partying with the girls.
The water tumbles over my back, relaxing my muscles, calling to wake my senses. My hair, silken red and getting longer, it's so thick, I don't know if I'll make it through the summer without chopping it off. We'll see.
Wrapped in a towel, I walk back out to the front room, the girls have made their quiet exits, good girls. I don't do snuggles. I trained them well. I flick on the cameras that run over the Vixen's floor into my apartment.
"Now, this is interesting."
Ma belle loup and LI,standing near each other, talking, I think, I lean foward, watching, I'm curious and slightly turned on. One I've had. One I've wanted for a very long time.
This I've got to see.
I lean back on my couch, dripping wet in more than one place, and get comfortable, eyes trained on the flicking of my screen and two very hot regulars.
The water tumbles over my back, relaxing my muscles, calling to wake my senses. My hair, silken red and getting longer, it's so thick, I don't know if I'll make it through the summer without chopping it off. We'll see.
Wrapped in a towel, I walk back out to the front room, the girls have made their quiet exits, good girls. I don't do snuggles. I trained them well. I flick on the cameras that run over the Vixen's floor into my apartment.
"Now, this is interesting."
Ma belle loup and LI,standing near each other, talking, I think, I lean foward, watching, I'm curious and slightly turned on. One I've had. One I've wanted for a very long time.
This I've got to see.
I lean back on my couch, dripping wet in more than one place, and get comfortable, eyes trained on the flicking of my screen and two very hot regulars.
Light Ice
A Real Bastard
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Nails. Manicured. Rounded. Sharp. They remind me of semi-circle marks; claims made in the shape of red half-moons on my shoulder and back. They remind me of the nights she has cried out beneath me, trembling, while the prick her fingers shamelessly rest beside has pounded into the wonderful softness of her body. Yes, with her, it is never sweet. Those things lay implied, always, while visions of the primal lay waste to our higher intentions.
I need her, in a way, for my most base of instincts.
That is why we work.
But I am hard already. Ferociously hard. Her tongue against my ear, curling briefly at the lobe, is enough to beckon all of my body to harden. To bristle. Muscles standing sharply, straining beneath the clothes that bind me, while she sets me so entirely on edge. I turn my face to hers, the wolfish lines of my jaw shrouded in dark stubble. It is a bold contrast to the proud elegance I see in her. Undaunted, my teeth her lower lip and give it a sudden, violent tug.
"You're fucking particular. Blame yourself." I speak to just how few men entertain her attentions. Precious few.
I count myself lucky, even as I watch the delicious pout of her lip swell up and bruise. Even as I imagine what that will bring me. And even as my fingers tug my zipper down with the sudden rasp of parting metal teeth, allowing me to free my hardening prick and leave it to sway potently from between my thighs. Heavy. Hard. The massive length of it stretching upward, reaching, curving just faintly back and ending in the plump, wide crown that is so perfect at sealing up even the most eager of throats. So perfect for pounding the most slick, wet, and wanton of cunts.
Usually, she invokes the vision of her stretched upon her back when she takes me deep. I wonder. Just wonder. If she will slip to her knees tonight.
The image is enough to provoke a sudden, steady drizzle of precum to bead from my cock's slit and run sharply down the length of my flesh.
I need her, in a way, for my most base of instincts.
That is why we work.
But I am hard already. Ferociously hard. Her tongue against my ear, curling briefly at the lobe, is enough to beckon all of my body to harden. To bristle. Muscles standing sharply, straining beneath the clothes that bind me, while she sets me so entirely on edge. I turn my face to hers, the wolfish lines of my jaw shrouded in dark stubble. It is a bold contrast to the proud elegance I see in her. Undaunted, my teeth her lower lip and give it a sudden, violent tug.
"You're fucking particular. Blame yourself." I speak to just how few men entertain her attentions. Precious few.
I count myself lucky, even as I watch the delicious pout of her lip swell up and bruise. Even as I imagine what that will bring me. And even as my fingers tug my zipper down with the sudden rasp of parting metal teeth, allowing me to free my hardening prick and leave it to sway potently from between my thighs. Heavy. Hard. The massive length of it stretching upward, reaching, curving just faintly back and ending in the plump, wide crown that is so perfect at sealing up even the most eager of throats. So perfect for pounding the most slick, wet, and wanton of cunts.
Usually, she invokes the vision of her stretched upon her back when she takes me deep. I wonder. Just wonder. If she will slip to her knees tonight.
The image is enough to provoke a sudden, steady drizzle of precum to bead from my cock's slit and run sharply down the length of my flesh.
Luna_Wolf72
CinnaWolf circa 2023
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His reasoning can not be denied. I am particular. My body is a temple. To be worshipped and used at MY whim. No one else's. And men? I can take them or leave them. But him? Oh yes, him. Well, he has proven to be slightly intoxicating and rather addictive. He doesn't want me to be weak or girly. He expects the roughness, the violence. Without it, we are not who we are when we are together. My lip hurts. It's worth it.
I hear the zipper as it descends and grin. He is nice enough to offer me an all night sucker. How sweet! My eyes flash to his as the hand resting on his thigh moves to stroke hard velvet sheath. One nail tickles the vein that runs it's length. My mouth is smiling but he knows what I want. He should know. He had better know.
"You want me to take you into my mouth? Here at this table?"
The grin gets wider, until my jaw begins to hurt. My hand grips him, suddenly, as my head dips to taste the clear fluid that begins to bubble along the top. Sweet, salty, tangy. A low moan escapes me and I open my mouth wider, sucking the head into the hot, wet confines of my mouth~feasting on his bodily fluids. Just as quickly as I started, I stop.
"Do you mind putting on a show?"
I hear the zipper as it descends and grin. He is nice enough to offer me an all night sucker. How sweet! My eyes flash to his as the hand resting on his thigh moves to stroke hard velvet sheath. One nail tickles the vein that runs it's length. My mouth is smiling but he knows what I want. He should know. He had better know.
"You want me to take you into my mouth? Here at this table?"
The grin gets wider, until my jaw begins to hurt. My hand grips him, suddenly, as my head dips to taste the clear fluid that begins to bubble along the top. Sweet, salty, tangy. A low moan escapes me and I open my mouth wider, sucking the head into the hot, wet confines of my mouth~feasting on his bodily fluids. Just as quickly as I started, I stop.
"Do you mind putting on a show?"
Ausus_girl13
Rarely Behaved
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It's so like him to just whip it out at any moment. I almost laugh when he unzips his pants. Then there it is, on my TV, and I just have to take a second to breathe and bite my bottom lips. Bastard. Asshole. He knows my sobriquets for him and yet, yet... that cock is gorgeous. He knows it too.
From the look of it Luna can't resist it either. Her tongue and fingers dance along that pulsing length and I find that my fingers are dancing over my inner thigh in the same cadence.
Like I could resist. I can't even tear my eyes away from the screen, I'm so enraptured of watching this dance between the two of them.
From the look of it Luna can't resist it either. Her tongue and fingers dance along that pulsing length and I find that my fingers are dancing over my inner thigh in the same cadence.
Like I could resist. I can't even tear my eyes away from the screen, I'm so enraptured of watching this dance between the two of them.
Light Ice
A Real Bastard
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"Is that a challenge?"
It is.
And she knows without asking that I have accepted. My eyes find her own, chocolate. Deep and passionate. My strong hand dips, grazing calloused fingers across a smooth cheek. I trace the arch of her jawbone, I close my fingers almost tenderly on the lobe of her ear. And then, smoothing my hand across her scalp and my fingers through her hair, I grip the back of her head and guide her gorgeous mouth back to the waiting crown of my length.
The feel of her lips, the way her cheeks hollow as she sucks at my length, is enough to tighten my balls to my body and curl my toes within my shoes. I can feel ripples of sensation arcing through me, glorious and white-hot. They burn a path through my mind until I am unaware of the crowd, consumed by the way she consumes me. Precum now comes in a steady torrent of hot droplets, thick beads of pearl-white that form in the slit of my velvet tip and begin to leak down the vein-riddled shaft.
A power. She has such a fucking power. I want her on her knees, using it. I want her to draw my soul out as she has before, binding it up in the potency of my cum, leaving me a shell when she is through. My prick aches. It flexes hotly, angrily beneath her. It's demand is even more insistent then my own.
It is.
And she knows without asking that I have accepted. My eyes find her own, chocolate. Deep and passionate. My strong hand dips, grazing calloused fingers across a smooth cheek. I trace the arch of her jawbone, I close my fingers almost tenderly on the lobe of her ear. And then, smoothing my hand across her scalp and my fingers through her hair, I grip the back of her head and guide her gorgeous mouth back to the waiting crown of my length.
The feel of her lips, the way her cheeks hollow as she sucks at my length, is enough to tighten my balls to my body and curl my toes within my shoes. I can feel ripples of sensation arcing through me, glorious and white-hot. They burn a path through my mind until I am unaware of the crowd, consumed by the way she consumes me. Precum now comes in a steady torrent of hot droplets, thick beads of pearl-white that form in the slit of my velvet tip and begin to leak down the vein-riddled shaft.
A power. She has such a fucking power. I want her on her knees, using it. I want her to draw my soul out as she has before, binding it up in the potency of my cum, leaving me a shell when she is through. My prick aches. It flexes hotly, angrily beneath her. It's demand is even more insistent then my own.
Luna_Wolf72
CinnaWolf circa 2023
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He wants me on my knees. I know he does. That doesn't stop me from switching my position to more easily accommodate his thick length. Doesn't stop the low moan that vibrates against his flesh as I begin the hard suckling he enjoys. Needs. Craves. But even as I am doing what I do there is one thought that continues to pound through my brain. He wants me on my knees.
I hollow my cheeks more and swallow, feeling his head at the back of my mouth, hitting the top of my throat. I want him deeper. Sitting beside him is not going to accomplish that. I refuse to kneel for him though. Not unless he makes me. He knows me. He knows this.
Tongue flattens and moves side to side, swirling along hard, throbbing flesh. I can feel his hand, still resting on my hair and I decide that I have had enough play time. The drink has spilled and somehow it managed to avoid hitting me. Doesn't matter. I don't care. On my next release of his flesh from my mouth, I come the whole way up and grin at him, eyes glittering, swollen mouth holding a rapacious grin. With a sliding motion, I widen the distance between us and up the stakes.
The classy little dress pants disappear, so do the silk thongs and the tiny cotton tee. Even the demi cup bra. All I leave on are my pumps and my thigh highs~smoky black and lace topped. I stand there hip shot and dare him, with a smile.
I hollow my cheeks more and swallow, feeling his head at the back of my mouth, hitting the top of my throat. I want him deeper. Sitting beside him is not going to accomplish that. I refuse to kneel for him though. Not unless he makes me. He knows me. He knows this.
Tongue flattens and moves side to side, swirling along hard, throbbing flesh. I can feel his hand, still resting on my hair and I decide that I have had enough play time. The drink has spilled and somehow it managed to avoid hitting me. Doesn't matter. I don't care. On my next release of his flesh from my mouth, I come the whole way up and grin at him, eyes glittering, swollen mouth holding a rapacious grin. With a sliding motion, I widen the distance between us and up the stakes.
The classy little dress pants disappear, so do the silk thongs and the tiny cotton tee. Even the demi cup bra. All I leave on are my pumps and my thigh highs~smoky black and lace topped. I stand there hip shot and dare him, with a smile.
Light Ice
A Real Bastard
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Sinful.
She leaves my prick before her throat can take it, she makes me watch as she pulls off it and her pouted lips smack. I watch her strip, my strong hand falling to the base of my length. My fingers are immediately slick with her spit, wet, and glide easily up to the crown of my length and back in a slow, lazy rhythm. The vision she provides, the little arches of her body as she sheds her attire. Casual. Feminine. Erotic.
Dark skin in dim light, given a caramel glean from the flicker of nearby candles. Full breasts, tight nipples, and the attitude that flaunts it without any force. Natural, feral strength. My hand moves as she moves, stops as she stops, hip tossed out in quiet challenge.
I half-meet it. That's my way of a promise right now.
She wants the gloves off. She wants the humanity stripped away. I know because that is what I want, too, and we are and have been so similar in our desires that I can almost feel it roll off her gorgeous little self in waves. So, instead of me wild, she gets me coldly wanton. The kind of quiet ferocity that so frequently defines me. There are no threats. There are no long rambles of want, lust, and fucking. My words abandon me always, especially with her, and as ever I am most comfortable allowing my actions to speak on my behest.
I stand and abandon my dick with that slick-fingered hand and abruptly, suddenly, snag her hair in my grasp. The sinuous muscles that cover my body are tight, bristling. They are the product of long hours keeping myself in the condition that any primitive man needs to be in. The truth, however, is that as powerful as I have become the truest forms my strength takes lays within quickness. Viper-like. Predatory. Unmerciful quickness.
She will not kneel unless I make her.
I adore her for it.
I want her for it.
And I force her for it.
The wrench of my hand meant to bow her sleek spine in such a grievous arch that her legs fail beneath her, in such a dramatic and sudden way that those little pumps can't compensate for the force that has suddenly robbed her of her balance. And it is with her hair that I would keep her from simply dropping, that I use to lower her down, aware that the white-hot pain lacing through her scalp is exactly what she wants right now.
Well.
That and the dick she's tormented already, left angry and swollen and swaying proudly between my thighs as I stand over her.
For a moment I hope she has air in her lungs.
And then my hand slams her mouth down on my cock with such sudden ferocity that in that moment we are both bound to her skill. We are both bound for her ability to take me quickly into that tight tunnel of her throat, to swallow this impossibly large load down until she is stuffed firmly on my prick and her pretty face is crushed into the smooth muscles at the base of my cock.
Because her teeth could rend me useless.
My prick could rip her flesh and suffocate her.
We hang on her talents. A razor's edge of a moment given to her.
That's trust.
That's want.
That's us.
She leaves my prick before her throat can take it, she makes me watch as she pulls off it and her pouted lips smack. I watch her strip, my strong hand falling to the base of my length. My fingers are immediately slick with her spit, wet, and glide easily up to the crown of my length and back in a slow, lazy rhythm. The vision she provides, the little arches of her body as she sheds her attire. Casual. Feminine. Erotic.
Dark skin in dim light, given a caramel glean from the flicker of nearby candles. Full breasts, tight nipples, and the attitude that flaunts it without any force. Natural, feral strength. My hand moves as she moves, stops as she stops, hip tossed out in quiet challenge.
I half-meet it. That's my way of a promise right now.
She wants the gloves off. She wants the humanity stripped away. I know because that is what I want, too, and we are and have been so similar in our desires that I can almost feel it roll off her gorgeous little self in waves. So, instead of me wild, she gets me coldly wanton. The kind of quiet ferocity that so frequently defines me. There are no threats. There are no long rambles of want, lust, and fucking. My words abandon me always, especially with her, and as ever I am most comfortable allowing my actions to speak on my behest.
I stand and abandon my dick with that slick-fingered hand and abruptly, suddenly, snag her hair in my grasp. The sinuous muscles that cover my body are tight, bristling. They are the product of long hours keeping myself in the condition that any primitive man needs to be in. The truth, however, is that as powerful as I have become the truest forms my strength takes lays within quickness. Viper-like. Predatory. Unmerciful quickness.
She will not kneel unless I make her.
I adore her for it.
I want her for it.
And I force her for it.
The wrench of my hand meant to bow her sleek spine in such a grievous arch that her legs fail beneath her, in such a dramatic and sudden way that those little pumps can't compensate for the force that has suddenly robbed her of her balance. And it is with her hair that I would keep her from simply dropping, that I use to lower her down, aware that the white-hot pain lacing through her scalp is exactly what she wants right now.
Well.
That and the dick she's tormented already, left angry and swollen and swaying proudly between my thighs as I stand over her.
For a moment I hope she has air in her lungs.
And then my hand slams her mouth down on my cock with such sudden ferocity that in that moment we are both bound to her skill. We are both bound for her ability to take me quickly into that tight tunnel of her throat, to swallow this impossibly large load down until she is stuffed firmly on my prick and her pretty face is crushed into the smooth muscles at the base of my cock.
Because her teeth could rend me useless.
My prick could rip her flesh and suffocate her.
We hang on her talents. A razor's edge of a moment given to her.
That's trust.
That's want.
That's us.
Ausus_girl13
Rarely Behaved
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The clothing is gone and so is my self restraint. As if I had any to begin with. My fingers toy with my clit, and my eyes follow the two of them.
Powerful.
Insistent.
Oh hell.
He drops her, I close my eyes, softly moaning. Even with my eyes closed I can see her heart shaped ass, the way her body moves as she works him over. No soft whimpering here, she will demand his cum, will suck it from his body and leave him curled on the floor.
Maybe.
Her abilities are far more than my own. That I would find myself crawling across the floor just to be with her once is an understatement. We've tried.
His abilities... I know dominants with less control.
And here I am, quivering at the thought of them, with my errant little hand in my cunt. About the time that he glides down her throat, is the moment that I quake with a soft orgasm.
Collapsing onto the couch with a whimper.
I should shut the TV off now. Hide in the covers. Call some of the girls up.
But I can't, I won't and I don't.
Damn.
Powerful.
Insistent.
Oh hell.
He drops her, I close my eyes, softly moaning. Even with my eyes closed I can see her heart shaped ass, the way her body moves as she works him over. No soft whimpering here, she will demand his cum, will suck it from his body and leave him curled on the floor.
Maybe.
Her abilities are far more than my own. That I would find myself crawling across the floor just to be with her once is an understatement. We've tried.
His abilities... I know dominants with less control.
And here I am, quivering at the thought of them, with my errant little hand in my cunt. About the time that he glides down her throat, is the moment that I quake with a soft orgasm.
Collapsing onto the couch with a whimper.
I should shut the TV off now. Hide in the covers. Call some of the girls up.
But I can't, I won't and I don't.
Damn.
Luna_Wolf72
CinnaWolf circa 2023
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- Mar 27, 2003
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Brutality wrapped in lust and served with an arrogance that couldn't be denied because he had earned it and it was well deserved. I knew I was pressing every single button he had by my little display. I knew that he would do what I wanted because he literally didn't have a choice.
I taunted him.
I provoked him.
And I was just as strong as him.
The hand to my hair wasn't the surprise, not really. The way my body felt~like a fish on a hook? That wasn't a surprise either. He did that, often. Hooked me through sheer physical presence until I ended up a whimpering cum slut begging to be used, filled. None of that mattered.
What mattered was dropping to my knees, my mouth open, the pain blurring my vision and KNOWING that expected me to be ready. I was ready. I am always ready. It takes practice...and I don't indulge nearly enough, but I am always ready. My knees hit the floor with a thump and he surged forward, inward, choking me with one fluid, brutal thrust. I was thankful for training. Thankful for the breath I snatched as my unprotected knees hit the floor.
He would not find me wanting.
Mouth opened, and I swallowed him whole. I took him to the root, my mouth wide, tears dripping from the corners of my eyes from the pressure, the pain, the utter bliss of it. I swallowed him, my face pressing in toward his groin until my nose buried itself in the hairs there.
A slight movement, adjusting and then I released him from the tight confines of my throat, controlling the movement, controlling the need to breathe. A gentle hand came up and fondled the swollen sacks that hung beneath his length. The other hand, sent dagger sharp nails into the flesh of his groin, even as I breathed and forced myself back down onto his length, swallowing, building up spit, taking him deep. Owning him.
We owned each other...right now.
No one else existed.
No one else mattered.
I swallowed him...all up.
I taunted him.
I provoked him.
And I was just as strong as him.
The hand to my hair wasn't the surprise, not really. The way my body felt~like a fish on a hook? That wasn't a surprise either. He did that, often. Hooked me through sheer physical presence until I ended up a whimpering cum slut begging to be used, filled. None of that mattered.
What mattered was dropping to my knees, my mouth open, the pain blurring my vision and KNOWING that expected me to be ready. I was ready. I am always ready. It takes practice...and I don't indulge nearly enough, but I am always ready. My knees hit the floor with a thump and he surged forward, inward, choking me with one fluid, brutal thrust. I was thankful for training. Thankful for the breath I snatched as my unprotected knees hit the floor.
He would not find me wanting.
Mouth opened, and I swallowed him whole. I took him to the root, my mouth wide, tears dripping from the corners of my eyes from the pressure, the pain, the utter bliss of it. I swallowed him, my face pressing in toward his groin until my nose buried itself in the hairs there.
A slight movement, adjusting and then I released him from the tight confines of my throat, controlling the movement, controlling the need to breathe. A gentle hand came up and fondled the swollen sacks that hung beneath his length. The other hand, sent dagger sharp nails into the flesh of his groin, even as I breathed and forced myself back down onto his length, swallowing, building up spit, taking him deep. Owning him.
We owned each other...right now.
No one else existed.
No one else mattered.
I swallowed him...all up.
Light Ice
A Real Bastard
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2003
- Posts
- 5,396
"F-fuck." I managed.
Because there is no preparing yourself for her. Because, despite all of my control and all of my strength, she rips the breath from my lungs and leaves me panting. Ragged. Wanton sucks of air. Threads of control spiraling from my grasp, unravelling me towards what has been inevitable since she arrived. She does not suck my prick. She impales herself on it. She slams her face against my shaft until I can hear the deviant sound of it plugging her throat, the wet-hot squelching slickness of my massive length stretching her tight little tunnel. Drool coats my prick, drizzles my balls, her lips find the shaved base of my length and I swear her tongue is still twitching over me.
But for all her strength, all the intensity of this moment, I have more to give. More than she needs.
One hand remains bracing the back of her head, the other frames her gorgeous cheek. I catch her eyes drifting up to me. Soaking up the pale intensity of my stare. I wonder, briefly, if I look as dusky-eyed as she does. I wonder if I can ruin her pretty face before we are through.
I wonder.
The control she had? I tear it away. I suddenly lock my strong fingers and freeze her pretty mouth.
"Don't fuck up." I growl. Because I need her best. I want nothing but what she, alone, can give me.
And then I begin to fuck her pretty face. Not slowly. There is no romantic rock of my hips or wanton sink forward. There is only the quick roll of my rugged body that spears her throat with hot cock-flesh again, and again, and again. I pound her mouth, listen to the sounds of prick taking what she wants to be mine tonight. I pound her pretty face while her spit hangs in the air between us and drops to fall in little streaks across her swaying breasts.
I slam it into her entirely and hold her there, force her to feel the high that comes with being slowly choked by your lover. I let the only thing she can inhale be the taste of my cockmeat, locked in her throat, as her willingness to stay there forever is finally defeated by the body's instinct to find oxygen. I hold her there still, jerking, trembling, fighting the impossible strength of my hands until I see dangerous stars glinting in her beautiful eyes.
And only then, when she is about to slip into the blackness of unconsciousness, do I yank my cock from her entirely. Her spit, my precum, flying off it as it sways heavily in the air. The sound of her sucking wind into her lungs, the heave of her tits, powerful and wanton.
I am a bad fucking person.
I have never been much for nice.
I am not sweet.
But I want her.
And I wonder if she will reclaim my cock of her own volition before I force her too.
Because there is no preparing yourself for her. Because, despite all of my control and all of my strength, she rips the breath from my lungs and leaves me panting. Ragged. Wanton sucks of air. Threads of control spiraling from my grasp, unravelling me towards what has been inevitable since she arrived. She does not suck my prick. She impales herself on it. She slams her face against my shaft until I can hear the deviant sound of it plugging her throat, the wet-hot squelching slickness of my massive length stretching her tight little tunnel. Drool coats my prick, drizzles my balls, her lips find the shaved base of my length and I swear her tongue is still twitching over me.
But for all her strength, all the intensity of this moment, I have more to give. More than she needs.
One hand remains bracing the back of her head, the other frames her gorgeous cheek. I catch her eyes drifting up to me. Soaking up the pale intensity of my stare. I wonder, briefly, if I look as dusky-eyed as she does. I wonder if I can ruin her pretty face before we are through.
I wonder.
The control she had? I tear it away. I suddenly lock my strong fingers and freeze her pretty mouth.
"Don't fuck up." I growl. Because I need her best. I want nothing but what she, alone, can give me.
And then I begin to fuck her pretty face. Not slowly. There is no romantic rock of my hips or wanton sink forward. There is only the quick roll of my rugged body that spears her throat with hot cock-flesh again, and again, and again. I pound her mouth, listen to the sounds of prick taking what she wants to be mine tonight. I pound her pretty face while her spit hangs in the air between us and drops to fall in little streaks across her swaying breasts.
I slam it into her entirely and hold her there, force her to feel the high that comes with being slowly choked by your lover. I let the only thing she can inhale be the taste of my cockmeat, locked in her throat, as her willingness to stay there forever is finally defeated by the body's instinct to find oxygen. I hold her there still, jerking, trembling, fighting the impossible strength of my hands until I see dangerous stars glinting in her beautiful eyes.
And only then, when she is about to slip into the blackness of unconsciousness, do I yank my cock from her entirely. Her spit, my precum, flying off it as it sways heavily in the air. The sound of her sucking wind into her lungs, the heave of her tits, powerful and wanton.
I am a bad fucking person.
I have never been much for nice.
I am not sweet.
But I want her.
And I wonder if she will reclaim my cock of her own volition before I force her too.
Luna_Wolf72
CinnaWolf circa 2023
- Joined
- Mar 27, 2003
- Posts
- 43,982
He wants me to fight him and for a long while I don't. I take it. The gagging, the lack of oxygen? Fuck that. He won't break me. My mind is strong. My body isn't. In a little over a minute, I am fighting. In less than a minute and a half, I am getting woozy, light headed. He is choking me to death on male meat and I can't escape.
Hand comes up, raking over the few inches of exposed flesh he has left for me. And I slowly fade to black, plotting his destruction, his murder, his bleeding carcass at my feet. It is then that he releases me, practically throwing me backward, off of his length.
I am gasping, mouth sore, throat hurting and eyes watering as tears of pain and fear, roll down my face. Make-up ravaged. I am pissed. Beyond pissed but I rise to my feet with a little wobble and kick my shoes away. Hand darts out and grabs his length, nails teasing the sensitive flesh of cockhead and thickness. That hand is gentle. My face? The expression? I know they are not. My hand acts without my knowledge, coddling, stroking, teasing.
I step closer. Five feet nothing of pissed off woman but the words that come from my ravaged mouth, my bruised throat? They are soft, gentle, as easeful as my hand or at least the tone is.
"Sit down. I can't make you. I won't make you. I am a woman and we both know I would lose. But I will leave you here. Hard. Throbbing. Needing exactly what I can give you and NO ONE else can. You can try and find a substitute but they ain't me. So sit down."
My hand continues that slow, seductive stroking. My body is almost within reach and I can feel his heat, calling me. But he won't win this round. I will walk out and leave him here. No matter that I can feel his body calling me. No matter that my cunt throbs with need and my inner thighs are slick with desire. I am Wolf...and I will walk. He knows it..and if he doesn't? He will learn soon enough.
Hand comes up, raking over the few inches of exposed flesh he has left for me. And I slowly fade to black, plotting his destruction, his murder, his bleeding carcass at my feet. It is then that he releases me, practically throwing me backward, off of his length.
I am gasping, mouth sore, throat hurting and eyes watering as tears of pain and fear, roll down my face. Make-up ravaged. I am pissed. Beyond pissed but I rise to my feet with a little wobble and kick my shoes away. Hand darts out and grabs his length, nails teasing the sensitive flesh of cockhead and thickness. That hand is gentle. My face? The expression? I know they are not. My hand acts without my knowledge, coddling, stroking, teasing.
I step closer. Five feet nothing of pissed off woman but the words that come from my ravaged mouth, my bruised throat? They are soft, gentle, as easeful as my hand or at least the tone is.
"Sit down. I can't make you. I won't make you. I am a woman and we both know I would lose. But I will leave you here. Hard. Throbbing. Needing exactly what I can give you and NO ONE else can. You can try and find a substitute but they ain't me. So sit down."
My hand continues that slow, seductive stroking. My body is almost within reach and I can feel his heat, calling me. But he won't win this round. I will walk out and leave him here. No matter that I can feel his body calling me. No matter that my cunt throbs with need and my inner thighs are slick with desire. I am Wolf...and I will walk. He knows it..and if he doesn't? He will learn soon enough.
Light Ice
A Real Bastard
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2003
- Posts
- 5,396
I do not smile.
It is not funny.
But it is what I wanted. What I need from her. She finds no argument as I claim my seat. That hard length standing, my rugged body shed of clothes before I do. There is no shame in my nakedness. The contrast of our bodies a bold one. She is softly rounded, feminine, svelte. Sexual. I am better built for breaking things than I am for pleasing them. I am not handsome in the way that women are taught to desire. It suits me fine. I've no need of being handsome.
"Then walk." I say.
Fuck, I am so hard. I want so fucking badly. She has what she wanted. Me. Seated. But she suddenly has my pale eyes sharpened on her features, daring her. Does she really believe she'd get more than a step out that door? I doubt it. Angry, or not, if she thinks I would let her leave... if she thinks she's that easy to watch walk away? She's lost it.
And I do not see insanity in her face.
To most people, I'm certain, our dynamic is a bizarre one. Unhealthy. To most people our sex looks more like an act of violence than an act of pleasure. I do not pity them, though I imagine I could. She and I are throwbacks to the days of tribes and earth and blood. She and I are reminiscent of a time when desire for someone was reason enough to make your mark in claiming it. No words. No flowers. The tiring motions of seduction do not appeal. Do not work. Do not entice.
She and I are on dark ground. We always have been. Respect lingers, always, but is sometimes difficult to find through the haze of our lust and the mask of predatory ferocity that lingers on us. I have given her a choice. She has me seated. Or, she can try and leave, and watch what happens when that gorgeous ass is facing me and she has her back turned.
My cock twitches hard. As if it has an opinion.
My mind is not working well enough for me to recognize my own. The simple fact is that I need her gorgeous cunt seated on my dick. And soon.
The rest is nuance.
It is not funny.
But it is what I wanted. What I need from her. She finds no argument as I claim my seat. That hard length standing, my rugged body shed of clothes before I do. There is no shame in my nakedness. The contrast of our bodies a bold one. She is softly rounded, feminine, svelte. Sexual. I am better built for breaking things than I am for pleasing them. I am not handsome in the way that women are taught to desire. It suits me fine. I've no need of being handsome.
"Then walk." I say.
Fuck, I am so hard. I want so fucking badly. She has what she wanted. Me. Seated. But she suddenly has my pale eyes sharpened on her features, daring her. Does she really believe she'd get more than a step out that door? I doubt it. Angry, or not, if she thinks I would let her leave... if she thinks she's that easy to watch walk away? She's lost it.
And I do not see insanity in her face.
To most people, I'm certain, our dynamic is a bizarre one. Unhealthy. To most people our sex looks more like an act of violence than an act of pleasure. I do not pity them, though I imagine I could. She and I are throwbacks to the days of tribes and earth and blood. She and I are reminiscent of a time when desire for someone was reason enough to make your mark in claiming it. No words. No flowers. The tiring motions of seduction do not appeal. Do not work. Do not entice.
She and I are on dark ground. We always have been. Respect lingers, always, but is sometimes difficult to find through the haze of our lust and the mask of predatory ferocity that lingers on us. I have given her a choice. She has me seated. Or, she can try and leave, and watch what happens when that gorgeous ass is facing me and she has her back turned.
My cock twitches hard. As if it has an opinion.
My mind is not working well enough for me to recognize my own. The simple fact is that I need her gorgeous cunt seated on my dick. And soon.
The rest is nuance.
Luna_Wolf72
CinnaWolf circa 2023
- Joined
- Mar 27, 2003
- Posts
- 43,982
He stripped and sat. For a moment~one single solitary moment~ I debated turning and walking out. Leaving him there with his rampant hardness and unending hunger. I debated it, even as I strode forward and knelt to kiss his length. I debated it, even as I sucked his head into my sore mouth. I debated it, even as my hand and sharp nails rose to tickle the fine hairs covering the warm sacks beneath his length and then, I stopped debating it.
Instead I lost myself in the rise and fall of my mouth over warm cock flesh. I lost myself in the suck and release, in the act of fucking him with my poor, swollen, ravaged mouth. And when I could feel his body tensing, his feet pushing against the floor, his hips surging to meet each one of my downward movements, I knew that I had him.
I rose then and took the step that would end with my legs on either side of his lap. One hand went to his shoulder, the other went to his length and held it still as I sat down. He filled me up. Completely. He stretched me and it hurt...and I loved it. My mouth went unerringly to his and I devoured him~ his breath, his spit, his lips. Even as my cunt pulsed and squeezed and throbbed, extracting every bit of enjpoyment that it could from the impalement.
I had him, right where he wanted ME.
Instead I lost myself in the rise and fall of my mouth over warm cock flesh. I lost myself in the suck and release, in the act of fucking him with my poor, swollen, ravaged mouth. And when I could feel his body tensing, his feet pushing against the floor, his hips surging to meet each one of my downward movements, I knew that I had him.
I rose then and took the step that would end with my legs on either side of his lap. One hand went to his shoulder, the other went to his length and held it still as I sat down. He filled me up. Completely. He stretched me and it hurt...and I loved it. My mouth went unerringly to his and I devoured him~ his breath, his spit, his lips. Even as my cunt pulsed and squeezed and throbbed, extracting every bit of enjpoyment that it could from the impalement.
I had him, right where he wanted ME.
Light Ice
A Real Bastard
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2003
- Posts
- 5,396
She was so impossibly tight. The molten wet of her sex flexes hard around me, clenches on my hardness. I am uncertain whether it is to expel my rough invasion or to hold me within her, trapped, and it does not matter. She rides me, lifts up and drops down, allowing me to feel that satisfying smack of her ass against the top of my muscled thighs. Allowing me to feel the urgency in her rhythm, to sit back as she extracts the pound of flesh she has come here for.
I am so ferociously hard inside her.
That thought repeats itself in my mind as her lips, and teeth, begin a hot war with mine. We fight for control of our kisses until we devolve into a tangle of tongues and lips, gnashing teeth. I taste blood and cannot say for certain whether it is hers, or mine. My hips lift, a ripple of movement beneath her. A wave, reaching out, stroking me deeper. Clapping against her own dark-skinned frame. Meeting her. We fuck. Hard. Already. She soaks up the pain of my prick pounding deep and leaves me to stand against the waves of pleasure arcing sharply through every synapse, every stretch of nerves, in my body.
I arc a hand out suddenly, sharp and brutal. The big stretch of my palm connecting with the side of her full breast in an unforgiving -SMACK- that fills the room. It is followed with my other hand slamming against the full round of her ass. We are not gentle.
We are too intense for that.
I am so ferociously hard inside her.
That thought repeats itself in my mind as her lips, and teeth, begin a hot war with mine. We fight for control of our kisses until we devolve into a tangle of tongues and lips, gnashing teeth. I taste blood and cannot say for certain whether it is hers, or mine. My hips lift, a ripple of movement beneath her. A wave, reaching out, stroking me deeper. Clapping against her own dark-skinned frame. Meeting her. We fuck. Hard. Already. She soaks up the pain of my prick pounding deep and leaves me to stand against the waves of pleasure arcing sharply through every synapse, every stretch of nerves, in my body.
I arc a hand out suddenly, sharp and brutal. The big stretch of my palm connecting with the side of her full breast in an unforgiving -SMACK- that fills the room. It is followed with my other hand slamming against the full round of her ass. We are not gentle.
We are too intense for that.
Luna_Wolf72
CinnaWolf circa 2023
- Joined
- Mar 27, 2003
- Posts
- 43,982
It feels like this has gone on forever and not nearly long enough. All in a moment. . To be sure, I can't say where I end, where he begins, who watches, who has left, who has returned. All I know is the pounding up into my womb, the taste of blood and saliva and dark ferocious desire.
There are smacks~hard, stinging, brutal~but they don't register as such. Just a passing love tap from an old hand at giving out passing taps. My eyes are closed, tightly, but I hold on, nails digging into his shoulders, inner thighs flexing, trembling with each raging thrust, each downstroke.
It is ALWAYS this way~a fight~domination and need and the absolute certainty that when it ends, when it's over, we will both be walking horrors with blood, scratches, bruises and utter relief. I can feel the first flutterings. Those quiet little ripples and contractions of inner walls that mean I am about to let go. I don't even bother to tell him. He can feel it. He knows.
Instead, I redouble my efforts, landing against him with a resounding thump, cunt walls clutching at his length, trying to milk him dry. A hand had risen toward his throat~small, strong, deadly~and began to squeeze, once for every downbeat. That hastens the arrival of my impending orgasm. The feel of male throat, gasping, beneath my hand. My walls clench and then I drench him. Covering his lap in sticky girl goo. I think I may have howled. I am not sure. I don't know.
I ride through it. The storm. Him.
There are smacks~hard, stinging, brutal~but they don't register as such. Just a passing love tap from an old hand at giving out passing taps. My eyes are closed, tightly, but I hold on, nails digging into his shoulders, inner thighs flexing, trembling with each raging thrust, each downstroke.
It is ALWAYS this way~a fight~domination and need and the absolute certainty that when it ends, when it's over, we will both be walking horrors with blood, scratches, bruises and utter relief. I can feel the first flutterings. Those quiet little ripples and contractions of inner walls that mean I am about to let go. I don't even bother to tell him. He can feel it. He knows.
Instead, I redouble my efforts, landing against him with a resounding thump, cunt walls clutching at his length, trying to milk him dry. A hand had risen toward his throat~small, strong, deadly~and began to squeeze, once for every downbeat. That hastens the arrival of my impending orgasm. The feel of male throat, gasping, beneath my hand. My walls clench and then I drench him. Covering his lap in sticky girl goo. I think I may have howled. I am not sure. I don't know.
I ride through it. The storm. Him.
choklatekoneko
Bad, Bad Kitty.
- Joined
- Jan 5, 2011
- Posts
- 2,919
Slowly, she walks inside the Whorehouse once again, biting her bottom lip anxiously. She was short, and curvy, and of the chocolate variety-a rarity here. Her outfit was hugging, tight, sending a dangerous curve upon those thick hips of hers. She walked quickly, passing the other girls, knowing they watched her anyways. She sat quickly onto the couch. Waiting.
Light Ice
A Real Bastard
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2003
- Posts
- 5,396
He dropped out of work early and saddled himself at the bar. There was no mind paid to the few men scattered nearby and less paid to the very few girls up and about. Instead, working on a short-glass of Bombay, he let his eyes track along the counter's surface. It'd be a long day.
Light Ice
A Real Bastard
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2003
- Posts
- 5,396
The day came. The sun rose. He saddled to the bar, taking seat, and taking a Bombay on ice and ignoring the queer look from the bartender that pointedly began at the clock and ended on his drink. Yes, it was early. But it was Saturday.
And he was waiting.
And he was waiting.
Ausus_girl13
Rarely Behaved
- Joined
- Mar 18, 2009
- Posts
- 6,380
A soft chuckle from the door, seems like LI was waiting for a while. Like a moth to the flame, of course I return. Might be for a moment or longer, wonder if there is anyone about to hold my attention for longer than two seconds. LI could do it, but then we'd kill each other. Not pretty.
Still, a drink sounds damn fine right now.
Still, a drink sounds damn fine right now.
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