Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Let Me

I need to fly - feel the strength of my wings catch and sail on the wind.  I want to stretch and climb to heady heights and cry out in freedom.  Let me dance with the clouds.  Let me soar.  Let me be free.

Fly with me.  Dance with me.  Let us play beneath the heavens and be all we can be.  I want to feel the power vibrate through my soul until nothing but the echo of victory fills the air.  I want the fire to consume me, to burn through and devour the restlessness that haunts me.  Let me be free.  Let me be me.

Moments...

There are moments when I am nearly undone.  With needs and emotions so strong, I am suddenly overwhelmed.  lol  Considering tears now streak down my cheeks, "undone" likely doesn't capture it.  I'm braced and strong against the obvious.  I don't and won't let those things get to me.  For example, if I need to cum...well, there's friendly lil BOB to help me get myself there and take off the edge.  No, it's the tiny fucking shreds that catch me off guard, slam open the door, and expose the deep sliver of emptiness that I can't seem to fill with the rest of life.  Well...that damn gaping hole just brings me to my knees.  Augh!

Then I dry my eyes.  I catch my breath.  And I accept the pain.  There's no denying it.  I can't push it away.  I have to process it and absorb it.  Most of the time it's locked quietly behind the door deep behind my masks.  Right now, all the lights are on, and I'm faced with that stark, hollow chasm.  Yep...there it is.  It sucks.  lol  A deep breath.  I can't change the past, and I can't set the future.  Here and now is what I have.  I remind myself that while I could go out and temporarily distract myself with silliness, that silliness lacks substance and could never fulfill my needs.

So now I turn my back, shut off the lights, and once again lock the door.   There's nothing to do but be patient.  For more.  For something real.  For that beautiful, mysterious connection that's so worth the wait.
~DominaKat

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Sweet Pet - Part I

Bound.
Helpless.

His sweet pet.

I was allowed no words.
My only direction to accept.

My wrists held tightly to the headboard.
My legs untethered.

Another tease.
Freedom.
Yet none.

His fingers toyed lightly with my nipples.
Only my aching nipples.

A tap.
A touch.
A scrap.

Harder and harder they puckered for him.

Fat meat begging.
So ripe.

He tugged gently at my rings.
First one.
Then the other.

I gasped.
My back arched.
Heat flooded my cunt.


A tap.
A touch.
A scrap.


A lick.
Long and slow.
Hot and wet.

My nipple throbbed.
Until the pain of it.
Made me whimper.

His fingers tightened on one.
As his mouth sucked from the other.
I was coming undone.

The simplest of touches.
So often ignored.
Yet he took me under.

My thighs rubbed together.
Slick with my juice.

He bathed my nipples with his tongue.
And nursed from my heaving breasts.
I basked in his attentions.

A nip.
A bite.
The whip of his wicked tongue.

A rub.
A pinch.
The slap of his firm hand.

I panted.
I groaned.
My words bitten on my tongue.

I begged with my body.
Withering.
Needy.

So close.
I was mindless.

Simply his sweet pet.
To do with as he chose.
To obey his commands.

"Spread your thighs wide."
"I want to watch."

I surrendered to his will.
My tender clit swollen with need.
My pussy drenched in my desperate desire.

Both hands molding my tits.
Forcing me into the bed.
His thumbs flicked the pebbled points.

"Let go sweet pet."
"Show me your waterfall."

His fingers fastened swiftly.
Tightly.
Latching to my rosy points.

The heady pain.
My undoing.
I surrendered.

My long, low growl.
My hips rising off the bed.
My orgasm poured like an arch.

"Fuck yes, Kitten."
He rolled them in his grip.

Another wave ran through me.
A gushing stream from my womb.

He released me.
I caught my breath.
Then his groan filled the room.

The first searing splash to my breast.
My own desire ensnared immediately in his.
I arched to receive his seed.

Another load flung across my chest.
Ripped another orgasm unmercifully from my core.
As his cream branded me.

I was lost.
In the storm he created.
As him milked himself over me.

When his hands cupped my tits.
He massaged his cum into my skin.
And with a whisper, his promise to me.

"We're not done yet, my sweet pet."
~A Naughty Lil Kitten

Monday, January 23, 2012

Which One?

Sometimes a kitten needs a toy to bat around and play with to keep from being bored.
Sometimes she needs a warm lap to curl up in and be stroked until she purrs.

The question is...which one do you want to be?
~DominaKat

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

The Elusive Kink Quiz

Finally ran across the silly quiz (or one of them) that everyone posts on their profile.  My absolute non-scientific, yet seemly "pretty close the the mark" results...

Switch                          96%
Experimental                93%
Exhibitionist / Voyeur  82%
Bondage                       75%
Masochist                     64%
Sadist                           54%
Dominant                     54%
Degradation Lover       50%
Submissive                  46%
Vanilla                         18%

If you haven't found it yet either:  Go here...

Ciao...
~Kat

Not a Whore

How is it that no matter what non-sexual relationship I have with a man, I am seen as a threat to the woman in his life?  Really?  I'm not a whore fucking any man that happens to be in my vicinity.  In fact it's been a little over six months since I've been fucked, sucked dick, felt up, or even kissed.

Yes, at my core I want to be A man's whore, but not ANY man's.  I don't toss my pussy out like candy at a parade.  The fact that we work together or are in business together is NOT a hidden smoke shield for him crawling between my thick thighs.

Nor is my sexuality easily shared with just anyone that pays me attention or finds me desirable.  I find it a bit rude that you would presume so.  One, most men can't cope with - let alone satisfy - my sexual needs and desires.  Two, they can't keep up mentally.  Yes, I'm an intellectual snob.  Three, they aren't about shit, so why would I want that dead weight dragging at me?  Or four, there are priorities between us that are much more important that fucking our brains out. 

Have I broken these rules on occasion?  Oh hell, yeah.  But I've learned from those trainwrecks.  My attempts to be more adaptive, understanding and settle for less only turned out to be a waste of time, energy, and effort.  I have no desire to repeat my past poor choices to ignore a lack of intellect or a lack of character.  I know what I want and what I deserve, and that kind of connection requires more than simply finding a single good quality to build from.

To the women getting worked up over my presence, all this means is that even if your man came at me hard...it's not happening.  Would he thoroughly enjoy me sucking up and down his hard dick like a greedy, nasty whore.  Fuck yeah, but that doesn't mean I choked on it this afternoon and swallowed every hot drop of his creamy nut.  For whatever reason(s), we are what we are and that's the extent of things.  If you're worried about where his mind or his dick might be, I suggest you get on your knees and make damn sure your man is satisfied to the point where he's so drained, he can't get hard.  Then maybe you'll feel better about yourself and not worry about my existence.

In the meantime, I'm perfectly content to wait for what I want for to come my way.  I've gone three years without sex before because I couldn't find what I was looking for.  Trust me, I'm able to resist falling in your man's lap and riding him until he's begging me to let him rest or we're both well sated.

Errrrrrr....
~DominaKat

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Things I Don't Get

So over the course of my lifestyle and FetLife involvement, I've discovered that there are a number of things that I really just don't get.

Counting.

When I'm asked directly how many men I've fucked, yes...I can go through, write the names down, and count.  But this isn't a number I have on a billboard constantly flashing in my memory bank.  And no, it's definitely not because the number is so large that I can't keep track.  By some people's standards, I'm quite low given that I'm nearly 40 and been sexually active for about 24 years.  That tends to happen since I can restrain myself and be monogamous as well as be alone and not require a member of the opposite sex and/or sex to satisfy or stroke my ego.  Yes...I know that sounds a bit judgmental for a woman comfortable with an open relationship and sharing her lovers.  But the practice of numbered conquests repulses me.

When my lover in my last long-term relationship put a number on me, quite honestly...I almost threw up.  I was in the drive thru at McDonald's.  Suddenly my absolute favorite mocha held zero appeal.  Part of me wanted to cry.  I was some number on a list in his head.  I deserved better than that.

I simply struggle to understand what exactly I'm getting that's so damn special if 200 (No, that wasn't my number.) other people have sampled, basked in it, wallowed with it.  And if you are comfortable passing it out so freely, then how it is that I'm supposedly so meaningful.  But maybe that's the mistake I make...there's a certain undefinable point where what I'm getting isn't special and to that kind of person, I am easily and completely replaceable because some other wet hole will do just fine.

For me, none of the men I've shared my body with are a number, except of course my first which is well...my first.  Good or bad each of my previous lovers has a name and for better or worse had a reason why they were in my life in that moment between my thighs.  Then again, I tend to think of the opposite sex as human beings and not cattle, but hey...that's just me being difficult I suppose.

The other thing I don't get...

Black Men Being a Genuine Fetish.

First let's define a fetish.
Fetish:  "A course of action to which one has an excessive and irrational commitment." 
I'm not venting about a like/preference here.  I'm bitching about the "Oh I Have to Have Him Because I Love Black Men" mentality.

Do I prefer black men?  In general yes, because I prefer strong, agressive men and those traits tend to be more apparent in the black culture.  I'm a strong, agressive woman and seek a dominant male that can match my personality.  Do I date or fuck other races?  Yes, if there is chemistry between us.  Just as I fuck a black man if there's chemistry between us.  The other key preference factor is that in general, I don't do it for white boys.  I'm tall.  I'm thick.  In my experience, black men will check me over one, twice, and more if there's time.  White boys will look at me and consider me fat and a threat to their egos.  My stance is that if I'm a threat to your ego, your ego isn't strong enough for me in the first place.  lol

The point for me is the color of a man's skin does not define our compatibility or my satisfaction.  The color of his skin does not put him in a different category that I keep track of separately and wear like a badge of honor.  I don't count blued-eyed men.  I don't count blondes.  However, I do have categories like "douche bag/asshole," "nice guy," "fool," and for a very select few..."Mmmmm...Wow! ~sigh~"  ;-)

I just can't think of a black man in the same terms as I can flogging, nipple clamps, being spanked, hair pulling, choking on a nice thick well-hung dick, etc.  Those are activities.  A lover is a person, not a fetish.  My mind doesn't work that way.  A man isn't an automatic "will do" just because his skin is darker than mine, and it makes me incredibly sad to realize that others think this way about another human being.

Maybe this all simply boils down to my inability to "objectify" people to nothing but numbers or a color.  ~shrug~  However, this is my opinion on my blog which outlines how I prefer to view and approach people, relationships, kink, and life.  For everyone out there with a specific need and approach, there's someone out there that has the balance to that.  Am I twisted?  Yep.  I'm looking for another twisted individual that blends well with my angles and curves.  So I understand that for every "Count-er" or "Black-Men-fetishizer"  there's I'm sure a "Countee" or a "Want Me Only Because I'm Black" man out there for them.  May they find each other and live happily ever after.  Tra-la-la.

I'll wait for something/someone with a bit more depth and as a new friend of mine put it "substance."
~Domina

Sunday, January 8, 2012

So Deep

Too much.
Too little.
Take me away.

Fuck me.
Hard and long.
Deep.

So deep.

A spicy blend of pain and control.
The heady scent of sex.
The intoxicating sounds of dominance and submission.

Dueling tongues.
Seeking hands.
Tangled flesh.

Passion.
Fire.
Dance with me.

Your thick velvet steel.
Buried in my sweet liquid heat.

A slow hard ride.
Between my spread thighs.

Take it.
Take me.
Deep.

So deep.

Feel my storm rage.
Set me free.
Locked in your embrace.

The all-consuming rush.
My surrender.
Your claim.

Take what's yours.
Take me under.
Take me deep.

So deep.
~Kat

Friday, January 6, 2012

Dinner for Two

Dinner?  Is that what you call it?  I barely ate a thing.  No, I was too busy being a whore in that dim corner booth in the back dining room to eat.  I hadn't planned for all of that.  Maybe in some dark corner of my mind, I wished.  But I didn't expect it.

It all started with a trail of love bites as I sipped at my glass of Chianti.  The second his lips and teeth sank into my neck, I started to fall under that sweet fucking haze of desire.  My hand clenched his thigh though each sting and lick.  I purred.  I whimpered.  When his hand slipped into the deep v of my shirt to torture, I didn't stop him.  I didn't fucking care.  His large hand engulfed my fat tit.  He wasn't gentle.  He didn't ask.  He took what he wanted and then took more.  His wicked fingers played with my hard, begging nipple until I was almost in tears.  Then they left me panting for his touch when he pulled away hearing the server enter the room to bring the salads.  Once the young guy turned his back to leave us again, he shoved down half my shirt and to suck and pull on my nipple.  I can't lie...I held him to my breast and basked in my whorish need as the hum of the main serving room filtered to our solitary shelter.  I could barely hear the constant murmur of voices, the clink of plates, and the good-natured bickering at the bar, over my frantic whispers for more.  "Fuck yes.  Suck me.  Hard.  God, yes..."

A louder voice walking down the hall towards our room, broke us apart.  He eased reluctantly back, giving me the only warning I had.  That loud voice, called his name in greeting.  He graciously sheltered me as I put myself back to some near resemblance of respectable.  The finger bruise at the top of my breast couldn't be helped.  When he turned to greet our visitor, I tried to pretend I wasn't in heat.  I tried to clear the cobwebs pure lust had left blanketing my brain.  We were introduced, though I don't remember his name.  The only cognizant thought that did manage to filter past the ache of my pussy was that this loud, happy guy owned the bustling little restaurant and that our solitude had been pre-arranged earlier that day.  With that bit of knowledge, I realized the man who's hand gripped mine was the devil, and I was doomed.

Our dinners arrived as the three of us made small talk.  Our untouched salads noticed and glossed over.  The gleam and grin of my new acquaintance told me without a doubt he knew we had just been breaking umpteen indecency laws.  Finally with a slap to my date's back and a hardy handshake, he left us in peace.  I leaned back, closed my eyes, and just sighed.  The low chuckle I heard answer wasn't unexpected.  The devil enjoys riding the edge.  And I - for better or worse - like to be straddled in behind him.

He gentled for me then.  I think he felt a smidgen of compassion that I was frazzled.  He fed me bits and nibbles as he gave me the history of friendship between him and our host.  When he asked me why I wasn't eating more, I closed my eyes and tempted the devil with the truth.  "I'm so fucking wound up right now it's all I can do not to climb on top of you and fuck you here."

I thought he'd smirk at my lack of control.  No...he stilled.  Like a lion scenting wounded prey.  I felt the shift in his mood immediately and tensed.  Waiting.  I'm not sure if it was fear or anticipation that exploded through my body.  Too lately, I realized I hadn't simply tempted him, I'd waved a red flag.  I wasn't sure what would come next.

Very precisely he set his silverware across his plate and turned to me.  He easily laid his hand on my stockinged knee.  His thumb dragged slowly up and down my trembling thigh.  I held my breath.  Slowly he leaned down and licked my lips.  Mine parted in response, but he simply licked carefully from one side to the other.  He paused.  "Now pull up your skirt and spread your fucking legs for Daddy, so I can ease the edge off that overwhelming ache of yours."  My mind splintered as his words shook me to the core and sent a rush of uncontrolled lust to my already desperate cunt.  He squeezed my knee hard.  "Now!" he commanded.

My legs fell open as my shaking hands tugged at my hem and revealed my bare, glistening mound.  "Very good girl," he whispered.  I could only whimper as his fingers traced up my thigh and teased my soaked folds.  "You're going to have to be very quiet while I finger fuck you, Kitten."  I bit my lips and nodded my head as he slowly parted my slick sensitive flesh.  I wanted.  Fuck, I wanted.  Him.  This.  An orgasm.  All of it.  Here.  Now.  I didn't care.

His fingertips were just at my entrance.  I could feel my hole gasping to suck in his touch.  "Do you want Daddy to finger you, baby?  Nice and hard and deep?"  He increased the pressure just a tad to torture me.  I nodded again frantically.

"No...use your manners, baby."

"Y-y-yes, Daddy.  Please."  I pleaded as my hips rocked just slightly toward him, urging.  I could feel the juice trailing onto his fingers from my weeping cunt.  I was on fire.

"You're so fucking hot and wet.  You're ready to melt.  Let me give this pretty cunt a taste of what it needs.  Then I'm going to fuck you hard and deep on the hood of my car, so you can have some of Daddy's dick before you go home."  I groaned at his promise, then had to bite back a scream as he plunged two fingers knuckle deep inside me.  "Cum, Kitten.  All over Daddy's hand like a good girl."  He drilled me fast and furious then hooked his fingers to beat against my g-spot.  My eyes flared open as in the span of two minutes he ripped a deep, brutal orgasm from my needy flesh.  A stream of juice shot from between my legs and poured over his wrist and palm.  The sucking wet sounds of my fingering rang in my ears.  "Fuck yes baby.  Fuck yes."  His hand slowed.  I couldn't protest though I wanted more.  I was momentarily stunned.  That single release had only opened the flood gates.  My body ached for a continued assault.

I closed my eyes and breathed deep trying to come down just enough to function.  Another breath.  His fingers slipped out of me.  I groaned at the emptiness.  His gentle hand dabbed at my drenched thighs cleaning up the worst of it.  I felt him tug down the top of my hem, then lift his hand to cup my chin.  "Baby...I need you.  Now.  Come on baby...we just have to make it to the car."  Shakily, I nodded my understanding.  He gasp my fingers that I had unknowingly gripped around his thigh and tugged.  I managed somehow to snatch my clutch as he helped me to my feet.

We hurried down the hall and through the front door to the car, him at my side.  He'd parked at the back edge of the lot which lead to an empty unused dark field.  The January night was unseasonably warm, yet we still couldn't get across the pavement fast enough.  When I went to reach for my door handle, he nudged me forward.  "I said the hood.  I said now."

Relieved and uncaring anymore who might see what, I followed willingly.  His hands grasped my waist and positioned my ass in the center of the wide hood.  "Brace your hands behind you."  I did as I was told, wanting to please him, wanting to be his naughty whore.  With my back arched and my breasts thrust forward he dragged my full tits out of my shirt and bra, baring them to the night sky and his touch.  He leaned down and claimed my mouth as he molded my heavy breasts in his hands.  His tongue swept my mouth and took ownership.  My tongue battled back expressing my own wanton need.  He broke away and reached for his zipper.  "Drop your shoes and put your feet on the bumper.  Legs spread.  Wide."  His long, hard dick was in his hand.  My mouth watered.  He stroked himself as he took in my pose.  My half-lidded stare.  My parted, bruised lips.  He stepped back and pulled out his phone to snap my picture.  I blatantly held my stance.

"Fuck me, Daddy.  Fuck your whore."

With a groan he pushed his phone back into his coat and stepped between my welcoming thighs.  His fingers opened my pussy lips wide, then he thrust into the hot grip of my wet hole.  "Yes, Daddy.  Hard..." I begged.

His hands molded my tits.  His dick rode me deep and hard.  Between his grinding teeth he praised me, "Fuck yes, you're a good whore for Daddy.  Make me cum with that greedy sweet cunt of yours."  He drove his cock to the back of my cunt and held me there against him.  It was too much.  He was so deep.

"Daddy..." I cried.

He pulled back half way then sank completely into me again.  I threw back my head and shattered.  I cried to the moon as a second surge of cum gushed from my pussy.  His groan echoed mine and the heat of his nut flooded my womb.  Wave after wave of bliss crashed over me.  My braced arms slowly gave way, and I collapsed gently to the hood panting.  Not unmoved, he followed me down.  His head resting momentarily on my breasts.

"You're the devil," I whispered.

"Yes, I am," he admitted.  "Get use to it."

My low laugh drifted across the lot to the exiting diners.  Yet, no one could see my lover and I across the way tucked away in our intimate embrace. We took our time just as we'd taken our pleasure.  Selfishly and unapologetically.
~Kitten

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Show Me

A teasing touch.
My nails dragging along his abs.
A hot, little lick.
Along the shell of his ear.

A whisper.
Show me.

A groan.
His eyes close.
He leans back his head.
That delicious ridge instantly defined.

So softly...
Don't make me ask again.
A nip to his neck.
His last warning.

Show me.

His palms slide up his thighs.
His jeans so soft.
The button released.
An even steady zip.

Oh yes...
That thick straining base.
So cushioned.
Framed in that trim, dark bed.

He lifts his hips.
To loosen the denim's hold.
He reaches deep.
The first touch a welcome comfort.

Show me.

He drags it free.
Releases.
On display.
Where I can see.

Mmmmmm...

So hard.
The viens pulsing.
That velvet steel,
Begging to be touched.

A whisper.
A command.

Show me...

How you hold it.
How you fucking stroke it.

Another groan.
As his dick jumps.
One fist grips the base.
Lifting it from his stomach.

His long fingers.
Curl around that sweet shaft.
Firm.
Strong.

He strokes.
Slow.
Steady.
Deliberate.

Oh baby...
Yes...
Very nice.
Show me.

His hooded glaze.
Watching me.
Watch him.
I meet his eyes.

You like touching yourself.
Don't you?
Jerking off.
While I watch?

He shutters his eyes.
Clenching his jaw.
Resisting.
Avoiding.

No...
My hand cups his chin.
Look at me.
Say it.

A pause.
His strokes accelerate.
I smile knowingly.
I wait.

A sigh.
A moan.
Finally.
Submission.

Breathless.
Yes, Domina.

Very good...
A reward.
A lick to his full lips.
A bite.

Then I take.
My tongue invades.
I demand a kiss.
Deep and dark.

Show me...

How hard you stroke it.
How rough you can be.

I lean over his cock.
He pauses his strokes.
He watches.
He waits.

My lips part.
A hot breath.
Teases his head.
Another.

Then I release.
My pooling saliva.
The hot liquid.
Scorches his sensitive skin.

Long, drops fall.
Soaking his flesh.
His strokes resume.
Beating his now slick shaft.

Harder.
Faster.
Yes baby...
Work that dick.

Another slow drip.
Another.
Wet, sloppy sounds fill the room.
His skin glistens.

His eyes glaze.
His nuts tighten.
The fire begins to burn.
He groans deep.

My hand slides up his chest.
To circle his neck.
A firm grip.
Then I squeeze.

Show me.
How you fucking milk yourself.

Show me.
How you fucking make yourself cum.

Show me!

I want you to explode.
For me.
Do it.
Stroke your fucking dick.

And cum.

His strokes.
Frantic.
Harsh.
His grip strangling his meat.

The tight, slick fist.
The perfect hole to fuck.
The friction unbearable.
The pressure mounts.

I tighten my hold again.
And cut off his air.
I demand.
What I crave.

Show me.
Fucking cum.

Now.

His head falls back.
The fire explodes in his nuts.
Racing through his dick.
I release his throat.

His hand tightens below the crest.
His back arches.
His arms strain.
He let's go.

A deep groan.
Domina!

My greedy hand slips over his head.
His cum erupts into my palm.
Drenching me in his hot cream.
Yes baby...Yes...

Again and again.
He releases.
Riding the overwhelming waves.
As the thick pulses spew.

I slide my hand over his.
Together.
Entwined around his cock.
Our slick hands milk the last drops.

I cup his cheek.
I rain sweet kisses.
I bring him back again.
To me.

Oh yes, baby...
So good...

So fucking good...
~Domina

Monday, January 2, 2012

Dark Sweet Pain

A sharp tug at the leash.
My collar digging against my throat.
He molded each ass cheeks.
Time paused.

Released tension.
A welcomed breath.
The first sweet a lash.
The wicked kiss of the belt.

Face down.
Ass up.
Heaven.
Hell.

No mercy.
None wanted.
Push.
Take.

I craved the harsh licks.
The echoes of my cries.
The heat of each mark.
Meeting the next stroke.

The pressure built.
Another sweet sting.
Higher.
My hands clenched the sheets.

I trembled.
I fell.
I exploded.
I begged.

My hot juice rained.
The storm released.
Splattered over my thighs.
A pool below me.

A hand thrust against my heat.
Fingers searched.
Spread.
Drove deep.

So full.
Insistent I shatter again.
I let him guide me.
I needed his push.

Another storm cloud broke.
I drenched his hand.
Coated his fingers.
I panted like an animal.

His fingers slowed.
Teased the line,
Between my cheeks.
A firm push into my dark hole.

My helpless groan.
The ache for more.
The pain.
The pleasure.

His fingers slipped away.
His hard cock nuzzled his entrance.
He waited.
He tormented.

My cheeks spread wide.
A firm push.
My hot tight asshole.
Sucked at his head.

I cried.
He held steady.
He petted.
I calmed.

Then I took.
Further and further.
Inside my dark hole.
Sweet pain.

Hot.
Tight.
My asshole stroked his shaft.
Deep.

The tightened leash.
My collar gripped.
He took back control.
And made me pay.

Again and again.
He drove brutally into my ass.
I was lost.
I came in a gush.

He refused to let up.
He knew what I needed.
Rode hard.
Rode long.

A slap to my ass.
He sank deep.
Held me there.
Pushed me into the mattress.

Deeper.
Grinding.
A hand gripped my hair.
Another pinched my nipple.

I squeezed tight.
Gripping his cock.
A groan.
Another grind.

He flooded my ass with searing heat.
I erupted again.
His nuts soaked in my lava.
As my ass milked his dick.

I was sated.
Temporarily.
Of my need.
For dark, sweet pain.
~Domina

Sunday, January 1, 2012

New Year's Eve Fireworks

Dinner at my favorite little Italian place had been lovely, a perfect combination of intelligent conversation, silly stories, flirting, and subtle yet seductive touches.  I couldn't deny that I enjoyed him.  I couldn't deny that he made my blood heat.  As we left the restaurant his strong, large hand rested firmly on my lower back guiding me gently to stay close by his side.  I could feel the heat through the short, classy dress I had chosen for him.  As we neared the car his footsteps slowed, and I closed the last few feet to the passenger side alone.

"Wait," he said softly.  I had assumed he had moved to the driver's side, but as I turned back his gaze took me in once again from head to toe.  "You're beautiful.  I love to watch you walk, baby."  He took the final steps to stand in front of me.  He lifted a hand to trace a finger gently down the side of my face, down the pulse at my neck, and to the small v in my dress where one pretty snap was strategically left undone to tease.  My breath caught.  He leaned forward, the heat of him enveloping me.  His hand fell to grasp my hip.  A deliberate, possessive squeeze sent electricity racing toward my nipples.   My hands rose to his biceps, needing to touch him.  He whispered softly in my ear,  "You tempt a man to sin."  A sigh escaped me as I felt his hot tongue against my earlobe and then the sharp little bite of his teeth.  A perfect combination of pleasure and pain.

He reluctantly stepped back, releasing me to open my door.  "We only have less than an hour to get downtown for the fireworks, sexy."  As he helped me slide into my seat, my hem rose up to reveal the lacy tops of my black stockings against my pale thighs.  His fingers played fleetingly with their edges before he pulled away.

I couldn't resist taunting him.  With a naughty little smile and a gleam in my eye, I replied, "Maybe fireworks aren't the only show in town..."

"Temptress..." he growled before closing me into the masculine confines of his car.

As I rested my head back, he fluidly got us on our way.  Sultry R&B pumped gently through the car feeding our mutual rising needs.  We didn't speak.  It didn't seem important.  As he settled onto the highway, his hand tugged at my fingertips.  Pulling my hand to his lips, he placed a heated kiss on my palm while he guided us to our destination.  The heat of his tongue teased my palm.  I crossed my legs and clenched my thighs together hoping to ease a bit of the ache mounting in me.  Slowly.  Gently.  He seduced me, and I craved that hot, seductive dance between a man and a woman.  His mouth continued down my arm to the sensitive viens of my wrist.  Another kiss.  Another lick.  I parted my wet lips and closed my eyes unable to to do anything but absorb his sweet loving.  His teeth nippled at my fragile skin stoking the fire in my blood.  I bit my bottom lip to stifle the groan that nearly erupted from my throat.  I could feel dampness coat my aching folds between my thighs.  A glance beneath my lowered lashes proved he wasn't unaffected either.  I could see the bulge of his hard dick against his thigh beneath his tailored pants.  My hands fisted in the need to touch him.

As we slowed to a stop from the off ramp, he turned his head to look down at me.  Catching my stare, he asked softly, "Is there something you need, my little Kat?"

Raising my eyes to meet his, I whispered the only answer I could give, "Yes."

Without breaking eye contact, he lowered my hand to his thick shaft.  My eyes widened slightly at his unexpected girth.  I squeezed slightly testing his response and was rewarded with an instinctive twitch against my palm.  "Will that be enough for you, baby?"

Not one to submit so easily I stroked my nail along his length, "Ask me that again when you're buried nuts deep inside me."

A deep chuckle met my brashness, followed by a mumbled, "Sweet witch."  He pulled the car into traffic turning my hand to hold it firmly in his and restrain my exploration.  I laughed lightly and gave in to his unspoken expectation to behave, so he could navigate the traffic and park.

We ended up several blocks away from the bustling holiday revelers, but with 20 minutes to go until midnight we had plenty of time to make it to the plaza.  He turned off the car and brought my hand to his lips for a chaste kiss.  "If we don't get out of here now, we'll never make it."  I grudgingly admitted he was right, but somehow the midnight fireworks now a pale comparison to the heat building between us.  He opened his door and got out.  The fresh December air gave us both a moment to regroup.  I could tell he took a deep breath before walking around to help me out of the car, and I wondered for the hundredth time at his control and restraint.

Hand in hand we began to make our way.  The lot and alleys leading to the festivities were all but deserted given the impending countdown.  We both were still quiet.  Our footsteps echoed against the aged brick walls of the buildings that framed the shadowy alley a block away from the main thoroughfare.  However, the tension between us was undaunted by our attempt to restrain ourselves.  His stroking thumb across my hand only made my nipples bead and push against the confines of my dress.  I knew they had to be obvious.  I tried to steady my breathing.  I tried to behave.

As we walked out from under the streetlight and into a dark shadow, we slowed so I could find my footing in my silly, pretty heels.  "Careful now," he warned as he put a hand to my back to steady me.  On my other side, I let my fingers skim the rough masonry.  He was so close.  I could smell him.  I could feel his warmth.  Momentarily overwhelmed, my steps paused.  I closed my eyes and tried to regain my slipping composure.

I heard him say my name, questioning.  Frustrated at my inability to calm my physical cravings, I leaned against the building at my side and quietly asked him what I had avoided until now.  "Are you always so in control?  Do you ever let go?"

He hesitated to answer.  His hands briefly clenched.  The muffled echos of party-goers were simply a low chorus in the background.  "I don't want to scare you."

"Have I done a thing to make you believe I scare easily?" I asked curiously.

Another pause.  His eyes slowly traced me again from head to toe, pausing at my blatantly hard nipples.  I instinctively wet my lips.  "No.  You're the strongest woman I've ever met."

Breathless, "Then let go.  I never said I needed or wanted tame."

With a low growl he closed the gap separating us and claimed my lips as he sank his hand tightly in my hair.  His tongue dove into my mouth stroking mine.  I whimpered at the scorching fire he inspired in my gut.  His hand held me exactly where he wanted.  His entire body pressed me against the ridged wall behind me.  With his free hand he finally cupped my aching breast and pinched a begging nipple between his thumb and forefinger.  I broke away to cry out.  "Is this what you want?  What you need?" he whispered in my ear.

"Yes...fuck yes..."  I sought his lips again as my hands worked under his coat to stroke down his hard, sculpted chest.  I could feel his thick dick grinding against me.  I slid one hand down to stroke his head and my other curled against his back to steady myself.

His grip on my breast tightened.  I dragged my hand down his shaft.  He bit my lower lip in response then lifted his head to sink his teeth in my neck.  I whimpered and ground my hips into him seeking.  The snaps at the top dress fell apart at his tugging and suddenly my breasts were bared to the night air. I gasped and clutched his head as he sucked a nipple into the heat of his mouth.  "Oh baby...oh yes, please..." I begged.  His teeth worried my nipple until I was nearly out of my mind.  My thighs were slick with my sugar.  He seemed to know instinctively how close I was.

"You'll cum for me.  Right here.  Right now.  Do you understand?" he growled.  "Spread your legs, baby, so I can touch you like you fucking need."  I responded immediately to his command and felt his fingertips at my hem.  "Are you wet?  Are you ready?" he whispered teasingly in my ear.  As he slowly trailed his fingers up my thighs, he was confronted with my slick heat.  "Fuck, baby, you're so wet."  His thumb teased my clit, and I responded with a helpless whimper.   He dragged his fingers through my folds parting them for his touch.  "Do you need my fingers inside you?  Fucking you?"

"Please...YES!" I begged.

"Look at me.  I want to watch you cum, my sweet, naughty bitch."  Gazing into his eyes, I panted as two long, thick fingers slowly sank in to my hot, wet pussy.  I cried out again at the blessed invasion.  I began to ride his hand instinctually.  "There you go baby.  There you go.  Work that hot pussy on my hand."  He curled his fingers and began to pulse against my g-spot.  In the distance I could hear the countdown begin.  10...9...8...  The pace of his strokes increased.  "Cum for me baby.  Cum all over my hand."  Faster and faster he stroked.  3...2...1...He drove a third finger inside me, and I erupted with a shout.  A flood of hot juice flowed over his palm like hot rain.  "Fuck yes, baby..."  My legs shook with the impact of my orgasm.  My sugar trailed down my thighs.  I clung to him.

As the fireworks began to boom and shatter above our heads, I could feel his hand unzipping his pants.  "I'm taking you.  Now.  I need to feel you cum on my fat dick.  I can't fucking wait."

"Please, baby...yes...more.  Now...Now..." I begged.

He pushed up my dress around my waist and hooked one thigh over his arm.  The head of his cock dragged through my wet folds once - twice - coating it in my hot sugar.  "I won't be gentle," he warned.

"Fuck me," I demanded.  "Give me what I need."  My nails dug into his back reinforcing my plea.

With my words he thrust his pulsing shaft half way into me.  He muffled our mutual cries with a deep carnal kiss pulling his cock out slightly before driving his full length into the hot, wet grip of my weeping cunt.   I was full, so fucking full, I couldn't think.  Pushing me roughly against the brick, he drove into me again and again.  "Is this enough for you?" he taunted.

"Don't stop.  Fuck me.  Harder.  Yes..."

"Good girl...take all this dick.  All of it."  The fireworks began their frantic finale flickering above us.  I was so close.  His thrusts brutal against my wanton flesh .  "Every."  Another thrust.  "Fucking."  Another.  I shattered on his dick squirting a hot waterfall of cum down his shaft and tight nuts as he pulled out for another deep stroke. "Inch."  Nuts deep in me, I felt his cum erupt against my inner walls, and I crested fast and hard again.  His guttural shout of release was lost in the pounding booms to all but me.

Locked in our stunned embrace we panted through the last spasms of our orgasms.  Slowly he lowered my thigh and held me up, as we quickly tried to recover from the powerful, mind-numbing fuck we had just shared.  He kissed my cheek as he kept me close.  I stroked his back.  Neither of us wanted to move.  As the sudden silence invaded our senses.  He slid his semi-hard dick out of me.  The friction against my ultra-sensitive folds sent shivers through me.  He pushed his damp shaft into his pants while I tugged my dress back over my thighs.  My naked breasts still sheltered against his chest.  He leaned into me and captured my lips in a slow, easy kiss that promised more.  "That was fucking amazing, but we need to beat the crowd baby, and I need to get you into bed."

I laughed and leaned my head against his shoulder as I thrust my breasts back under my bra and dress. He laughed as well, and we stepped away just as several revelers entered the alley to get back to their cars.  Hand in hand we hurriedly walked back, eager to be on our way.  Unable to resist, I asked, "Do you STILL think I might scare easy?"

With a firm smack on my ass, "I think you might get us arrested if you don't behave!"  My laughter echoed across the lot as he helped me into the car.  When he was beside me, we met for a long, deep kiss.  As we finally broke apart, I whispered, "Happy New Year, baby."

A contented sigh and a sweet squeeze, "Happy New Year, my wicked little Kat.  Happy New Year."
~Domina