The gorgeous Miss B has been in touch again with another of her beautifully written fantasies. Such a hot read. Please come back and see us soon Miss B. You can check out her excellent blog here. If you missed her first post ‘Bathroom Fuck’ you can check it out here.
~Dedicated to Joshua~
I think of him a lot. No, not my husband… giggles. The rub-your-thighs-together-while-biting-your-lip, sexy man I chat with online who I call daddy. He makes me hot, which is not that unusual for a sex kitten like me, but he also makes me blush. I have found myself hurrying home to join him online and when he’s excited to hear from me, I become giddy, totally fitting the part of a smitten, little girl.
Wait! Do not confuse this in any way with feelings of love. It’s all about the way he excites me. The way he talks to me, the way he demands things of me, the things he demands, all of it, that I love. I love being his slut. I love being abused by him. I love his attention when I’m being praised and, I’ll let you in on a secret, love it when I’m being punished too. (Wanting to reassure my fans, I want to clarify: he is the only source I have for this humiliation / adoration combo and I like it like that. I am trying to make it as a mistress after all.)
When I’m chatting online with him, he makes my heart beat faster, my breath come slower and I can’t help but squeeze my thighs together constantly. Often I’ll look down and realize I’m topless and fondling myself. I’m so deeply involved in my fantasy, I’ll have no recollection of how I got half-naked, nipples erect, clit tingling. I always end up admitting these self-indulgences to him but for my own benefit, naturally. I want to be told how to touch myself, what to think about, when and how to cum. I want him to control my actions. I want to lick my fingers, tease my nipples and circle my clit because he told me to…
The other night, I made my husband Derek use my vibrator on me. That’s nothing new, I’ve had him fuck me with dildos lots of times and damnit, if he isn’t better at it than I am! Usually, as I get close to cumming, I tell him how much more superior my dildo is over his cock. And really, it is in many ways. It is far superior to anything that doesn’t require a battery. It’s the “Rabbit Pearl Vibrator” supposedly featured on “Sex and the City.” The combination of Derek’s pained face, his erection bobbing against his stomach, and the master of all vibrators can make me cum in mere minutes exploding into wave after wave of orgasm. But last night was different. I lay back on the couch, my knees draped to either side of my pretty pink cunt. I titled my hips upwards and eased my thick purple dildo into my tight hole. I watched Derek sitting on the other side of the couch, his mouth salivating. He can’t take his eyes off my fuckhole swallowing the veined, pulsating cock.
I ridiculed him for wearing clothes in my presence (even though I hadn’t ordered him to get naked; I just like to fuck with him constantly.) He started to stutter, decided against speaking and stripped quickly. I showed him how he was to thrust my dildo into me and then slowly pull it out while the vibrating bunny ears rub across my swollen clit.
He took it from my hand and continued pumping me in this way, with his eyes lowered, concentrating on what he was doing like a good boy. I told him he wasn’t allowed to speak because, “it makes it so much more difficult for me to imagine I am fucking someone else when you’re whimpering.” I explained I was thinking about my online daddy. “I want to imagine it’s his cock filling me up,” I said. I recognized the look of pained pleasure on his face and Derek nodded, silently. I told him with his other hand he could stroke himself. His eyes lit up, quickly flicked to my face, then back to my pussy. Eagerly, he grabbed his cock. I further explained there would be certain conditions. I told him I wanted him to cum for my pleasure, not his. He was being allowed to orgasm solely because it would me to get off.
I’m getting really fucking turned on. Aren’t you? Well, lucky for me, my devoted Derek is folding laundry and watching football in the bedroom. I’m going to have him finger me before finishing his Sunday chores…
Whew. That’s better. It took me like less than 5 minutes to get off just now, seriously. Damn, I work myself up so much when writing. Ok, where was I?
Derek was allowed to cum, but only once I start to orgasm. He is to shower my creamy breasts in warm goopy spurts, pretending he is my online daddy painting his property with his cum. My eyes open briefly. “Do you understand?” Another silent nod. I smile, satisfied with him and pleased with myself. I close my eyes and begin my fantasy.
It’s mid-afternoon. The shades are drawn, but filtered sunlight floods the living room. We are on the carpeted living room floor. You have positioned me, coaxing and encouraging the entire time. “Now, you may be a little embarrassed at first, but just remember, I know what is best for my pretty girl.” You give me a quick kiss on my clit, swollen and protruding from my bald pussy lips. I shiver. From a seated position, you pull my hips out from under me. You instruct me to lean back on my elbows and place my feet flat on the floor. You kneel in front of me and put your hands on my knees. “My shy baby girl…I’m going to need to open your legs.” You ease my knees apart slowly, gently. “That’s it. Show me that sweet, smooth pussy.” He notices the slick sheen of my cunt. “Oh, it looks like daddy’s little girl isn’t as uncomfortable as she lets on.” I gulp, turning red. (He has barely touched me and yet I am as wet as a horny teenager!) You were right; I’m embarrassed.
“You are so hungry for me; aren’t you?” he asked. “I don’t even think your juicy cunt needs preparation for my big daddy cock. Bring that fuckhole over here.”
You grab hold of me on either side of my hips. Your hands wrap around my lower back and abruptly pull me towards you. Your face has changed. No long charming, gentle or accommodating, you look mad. “Get that fucking pussy over here so I can show you what a slut like you is good for. I’ve had enough of you acting like such a tease.”
Maybe you really are mad. You pull apart my pussy lips with your thumbs; hands still cupped under my ass and hurl your cock into my slick, needy cunt. I want you hard and deep, but your first thrust takes me by surprise. My breath catches like someone punched me in the stomach and my eyes start to tear up. “That’s right you little slut, you’re not used to such a big cock having its way with you; are you?” You pull out of me slowly, watching your huge dick re-emerge with my sweet pink pussy lips wrapped tightly around it. You begin rubbing my clit with your thumb and my eyelids flutter as my eyes roll back due to the excruciating pleasure.
You thrust into me again, hard and deep. “What are you?” you demand of me. I am confused. I am a Libra, I think to myself, but I know that’s not the answer you’re seeking. You thrust into me again, harder, deeper, and ease your cock out painfully slowly. Just as you have almost pulled out, again you thrust your hips forward and force your cock as deeply into me as you can. Jammed deep in my cunt, holding me up with your hands, you begin to rock your hips ever so slightly, pulsing your cock inside me. You force my fuckhole to stretch to the size of your swollen dick. “What are you?” you repeat, while hovering over me.
Oh goddamn! My cunt is seizing, gripped around your cock, trying to get as much of you as I can inside my swollen pussy. Ok, what was the question? I couldn’t think. “Who am I?” No. “What Am I?” I’m trying to concentrate. Really, I am. I’m trying to think of what I am to you. And it hits me like an epiphany. But, I don’t want to say it out loud. My face must have given me away, because then you wrap your arms around my lower torso, lifting me to align with your cock and slide further inside me. “What are you?” Your voice is soft and playful again. You begin circling your hips, cock still thrust deep inside your shy sweet pretty girl. I begin to whimper. “Lift your ass up just a little bit for daddy.” Your voice is husky, guttural. “That’s my good girl.” I melt. “I’m your slut,” I whisper. “What’s that?” Of course, you make me repeat it. You circle your hips wider and start to slide your cock easily in and out of my slick, needy cunt.
You are loving every minute of this. No longer are you mad or sweet to me, instead you are smirking as you continue to grind your hips into mine. Your cock, slippery wet, dips in and out of my tightly clenched fuckhole. “You love being my slut. Say it.” I purse my lips; I am stubborn. You freeze in mid-grind of your hips. “Do you want me to stop?” You’re taunting me. “Oh god, no. Please don’t stop” I manage to whimper. “Well then?” You’re still in mid-grind, unmoving.
I’m pouting for a second before I look up at you from under my eyelashes, resolved to admit it if that meant I could continue getting fucked. “I am your slut. You own me. I want to worship your cock.” I am now sobbing loudly. “Are you ready to cum all over daddy’s cock?” “Oh god, yes!” I’m almost crying. “Ok, be a good girl and cum for your daddy.” I am panting. I am whining. My legs are shaking noticeably. “Be a good slut for daddy and soak his cock with your cum.” “Oh godddddd.” I cum loudly, coating your cock with my pretty girl juices. I am unaware of everything but you fucking me on my living room floor. I’m thrashing, hips bucking and vaguely aware that I am screaming loudly.
… I feel warm semen splash against my tits. I open my eyes. Derek is still gently pumping me and I realize what it is I am still crying out:
“Oh yes. Please make me cum, daddy.”
You can read Miss B’s first post Bathroom Fuck here
Submitted by - Miss B - USA