Hot and Heavy and Hard Hard Hard

It's the smile that does it. I'm stupid in the child-like gleam of straight, white teeth against full, broad lips, dark skin and dimpled chin. A black fringe of short, straight lashes frame eyes continually appearing creased in mischief, and the words slipping through the devilish smile deliver on that promise.

"You miss sucking this big Dick, woman?"

I mentally capitalize the word because it's how he spells it when he texts to let me know when we'll meet next. Big D, as if it's a proper name, deserving of the title of Dick, rather than just the mere common description. It's a habit that I've accidentally picked up from him, when we talk. I now think of his "capital-D Dick." He and his cock are singular enough in my experience that I find the title fitting and let it seep into my thinking.

"You know I do." I reply, indulging in a grin of my own.

"Back seat, behind the book store, like last time?"

We're both busy and manage only to see one another when time and whim allow, making most of our romps somewhat sweaty, crowded, vehicular-based affairs. While I'm not averse to these little meals on wheels, my mouth full of his cock while he scans the empty lots in which we're parked for interlopers or authorities, it does generate some distraction, and today, I want his attention as singularly focused on his cock as mine is. My smile grows with my reply, "No. I made other plans. I figured you wouldn't mind an attempt to avoid jail time, for once."

Easy going as he is, his shrugs and heads back to his truck, and he follows me to the hotel. It's nothing special, something cheap and nearby, just high-dollar enough to be reliably clean. I've already checked in and gotten the key before meeting up with him. We head straight to the room, and I fiddle with the lock, flip on the lights as we walk in, set my purse and keys on the table, fidgety, my hands almost dancing so eager am I to touch him. My favorite moments, other than the obvious, are those in which that brown cock comes to life in my hands.

I relish the feel of soft, loose skin that plays back when my tongue begins its teasing. The feel of him entirely in my mouth, pliable and delicate, fills my senses, and I focus entirely on this moment, this man, this member. Time slows, and he grows. Incrementally and indelicately, until he throbs inside me, and I alight with the feel of him hot and heavy and hard, hard, hard.

My fingers dig into the exposed flesh of his narrow hips and tight ass, pulling him closer to me until his cock bumps into the back of my throat and my nose brushes the short neat curls at the base, wanting the smell and feel of him to envelop me while I envelop him. One hand snakes its way around, resting at the small of his back, steering his hips deeper into me. The other hand slips down to his balls, waiting for the tell-tale tightening that he's close, busying itself as a companion to my lips, constructing a deep, wet home for his Dick.

At some point, I've landed on my knees, lost in the feel of his thick shaft between my lips, tongue tending to the tip. I smile to myself at the idea of being in classic dicksucking position, the way he's more or less collapsed against the wall, both hands in my hair, doing some directing of his own, something else I hadn't noticed in my fellatious reverie. This thought wakes me up a bit, and I remember that I had a plan, and making him more or less instantly cum wasn't it.

"Oh, yeah. Take that thick Dick. You like that?"

At the sound of his voice, low and growling, I feel my muscles clench; I am wet. Okay, perhaps it's not all the smile that does it for me with this one.

That statement, that question—that I am taking it from him and liking it, and that he wants to hear about it—belies such potential in this one as a dominant. He's got an exhibitionist streak, sweet and unassuming as he can be at times. It's no surprise to him that I want him, and a natural dominant wants to revel in that power. This one, he revels.

I tilt my head back, look him in the eye, and I nod before taking him all the way into my mouth, into the opening of my throat, reflexes taking over once, twice, before I relax and let him find a rhythm, fucking my mouth, and I am lost again.

"You want that big, creamy load down that throat? I'm going to make you work for it this time. I don't like having to wait." Busy as I am with various pet projects, I haven't been quite as available as he'd have liked recently. Capricious and random as our meetings have been, I assumed he wouldn't notice the loss of me in the jostle of real life. The fact that he is playfully punishing me surprises and delights me. It also reminds me of my own plans, and I redouble my efforts to keep my wits about me, as intoxicating as this Dick is.

I like it when he talks, telling me what he wants from me, what he'll take, what will be happening. It makes the outcome seem almost predestined, and the submissive in me reacts powerfully, striving for it to be just as he's described. He likes to talk it seems, is starting to do so more and more, and he seems to like for me to answer, telling him just how hot he is, what I will do in the service of stoking that heat.

I answer, "I have to admit, I thought it would be easier than this, considering how long it's been. I got cocky." I grin at my own idiot joke, ever unable to resist a pun, even with a gorgeous, hard cock brushing my lips as I speak it. I take just the head of his Dick in my mouth, swirling around and under with my tongue, trying to hit every nerve-ending there at once, then I ask, "Can I tie you down? Were you serious about letting me? I think you'd like the feeling of pulling at the ropes while I suck you off."

I stop for a moment to fill my mouth with him again before finishing my thought. "Every muscle straining as you pull, your entire body aware of nothing but the feel of your Dick unloading down my throat while you fuck and I suck." To punctuate this statement, I all but swallow him, my tongue working his shaft while my lips touch the flat skin at the base of him. I speak from experience. I know how it feels on both sides of the rope. I plan to show him first one side, then the other.

"Will you stop talking and swallow this big load? I've been saving it up for days to dump in that pretty little mouth." The words are hard, but the tone is playful, like him. He isn't exaggerating and undoubtedly does want me to get on with things, but, as always, he is agreeable and goes to lay down on the bed.

"On your back." I unthinkingly slip into a dominant tone, having played the dominant for so long that the habits are hard to break. Since it's already said, though, I press on after adjusting my tone, hoping he didn't notice the shift from my being lost in the art of the blow job to my ordering him about. "Stretch out, if that's okay. Arms above your head, legs straight out."

I've already positioned the rope under the mattress, wanting the transition from face-fucking to bondage to be as smooth as possible, and within seconds, he's tied, Dick as hard as ever. I think he likes being just the slightest bit helpless.

This will be fun.

I start at the foot of the bed, crawling up him, my hair down and brushing its way up both legs as I get into position. I let it fall in a curtain across him, blocking my mouth from his view.

"Move your hair so that I can see you take every fat inch of that cock."

I chuckle and take my mouth off his cock just long enough to answer, "No."

His chest rumbles in an answering chuckle of his own. "What do you mean, 'no'? I know you love that cock, and I know you like it when I tell you what to do. Move it, girl!"

I use one hand to lift my hair out of the way just long enough for him to see me fully take him into my mouth, and I can feel him tense the moment his eyes fall on the sight. I'm not the only one who likes it when he's ordering me around. As soon as I feel that throb, I lift off his cock and repeat myself, "No," before dropping the hair back down and blocking his view once again.

I begin to deliberately tease. He will beg before he is allowed to finish, of that much I am determined. I work on his Dick for what seems like hours, building him up, getting him close, and then slowing down, purposely losing the rhythm, changing techniques just as he starts to go over the edge.

Early on, possibly even before the first time things got physical with him, he'd confessed the fantasy that a girl would just "torture" his dick, and that's exactly what I have in mind. It may have begun, as far as he knew, as a playful bit of tie-me-up-tie-me-down, but torturously teasing him is what I'm doing now.

I get him closer than ever, close enough that I worry for just a moment that I've gone too far and spoiled my own plans. When I take my mouth off of him to breathe, he almost sobs his frustration. "Get back on that Dick, woman. Please. I'm going to shoot down that throat. Get over here so that I can fuck that mouth."

I raise up on my knees and straddle him, pulling up my short skirt, pulling my soaked panties to one side, and I let him feel just how wet I am. I slide one hand underneath his cock, and I rest him between my pussy lips, resting against my clit. I begin to rock my hips, gently. My hand slides up him underneath, my hot, wet pussy slides down him on the top. I reverse, my slit slipping down the thick length of him, my hand sliding up. Wet, dry, up, down, until he's at the edge once again.

I lean over him, letting the head of his Dick rest just at the opening of me, my tits brushing his chest, and I tongue one earlobe, grazing with my teeth before speaking, "If you want to keep this up, honey, this...whatever this is between the two of us, we have to get a few things straight. Are you listening?"

He nods, and I can feel more than see his eagerness. He shifts his hips underneath me, the desire to fill my mouth gone now in the blind determination to bust a nut, trying to enter me. I squeeze my thighs together and hold him in place, unable to thrust or retreat, the head of his Dick brushing me almost constantly, offering far more teasing than relief. I can almost see his frustration at the thought that he would have been better off just sitting still.

"If you're interested, you have an opportunity with me. I have the rarity of a completely open mind, considering carefully before I make a judgment. What that means to you is this: anything you've ever wanted to try in bed, I might be willing to do. Think about that. Everyone has some secret little sexual story they tell themselves, the one that isn't publically acceptable, the little streak of freaky that hides in the shadows out of shame or propriety. I want that freak to come out to play."

With that, I relax my legs and sink down on to him, fucking myself on his thick cock. Yes, he's happily being fucked, but he can see that it is my own pleasure that drives me. I start off slowly, up and down, feeling him slide into me, out of me, getting myself closer and closer to orgasm with every wiggle of my hips, not that I'm ever far off.

"The price for having me service every dirty fantasy you can cook up is that you have to talk to me about them and you have to protect me and my life. You have to keep your mouth shut, so that I can rest assured that my every sexual adventure isn't being publicized. You can't involve anyone in your sex life without my knowledge and agreement, so that I can choose whether or not I want the exposure to someone else and their possible risks. If you can manage to protect me and my life from what we do together, then I'm willing to sexually serve you in ways you have yet to dream. Don't answer now. Think about it."

I continued to ride him, gasping and writhing, throughout my little speech, letting him fill me, cumming twice in the process. It's never difficult for me to find an orgasm, and all of the teasing had been a huge build-up.

"Do you want to finish?"

"Fuck, yeah, I want to finish. I want your mouth, though. Untie me."

I let one of his hands loose, and it was immediately in my hair, dragging me back to where we started, my lips on his cock. I start by sucking him clean of me, holding my hair out of the way so that he can see my willingness to be ordered, my obedience now that I've had my say, and my delight in getting to lick my own wetness off of his cock. Once clean, the spell seems to break, and he is forcing my head down onto his Dick.

"That's right. Suck it. Suck that fat cock, you fucking tease. Take it all—" The last word stretches out, elongating into a bellow of triumph as he cums down my throat, thick jets hot in my mouth. There is so much, I'm unable to contain it all, swallowing what I can, using the rest as lubrication for the post-game, squeezing out and drinking down every drop I'm able.

I climb off of him once he's finished, and I start rearranging my clothes, making myself presentable while he recovers. In moments, I'm straightened up, and he lays there still, just beginning to stir. I walk over to him, still tied at the ankles and one wrist, and kiss him softly, just barely brushing my lips on his. "Later, hon. You can keep the rope if you want," I say, "for next time."

Grinning, I walk out the door to his protests. He's got one hand free, so I know he'll be able to get loose, but I like that he's got to get himself out of his own predicament, if just for a moment. I wait in my car in the parking lot just long enough to make sure he gets out safely, and sure enough, he comes out a few minutes later, rope neatly coiled and tied for later use. He spots me, I give him a little wave good-bye, and I'm gone.