The Cheetah Story

Dear cousin,

As you remember from my last letter, I decided I would give my boyfriend a surprise for his birthday, and that this surprise would be that I would turn into a cheetah, have the spots and everything bodypainted into me. A good friend of mine who is a makeup artist agreed to do it for me--and before you ask he's as gay as they come so I had no qualms about getting naked and letting him touch and paint every square inch of my body.

The plan came together.

The only thing my boyfriend knew was that he would have a sexual surprise and that I would have to take over his house for one day, and he gladly let me. My friend made me up as a cheetah, which took the entire morning. The base colour was just a kind of translucent color which gave a yellow sheen to my tan, instead of painting me yellow, which, on top of taking longer, would have looked silly. Then he painted the spots, which looked amazing. They were really spread out like on an animal hide, evenly and yet not, changing in shape and density depending on the body area. There were no spots on the underside of my hands and arms for instance, whch is the kind of detail you don't notice but which makes the whole thing look real. The spots grew thinner around my boobs to highlight them, and slightly larger as they went down my legs, to make them look longer. Then came the tear marks and he glued on some really long whiskers, which completed the look. He's extremely talented, it was incredible. They looked tattooed-in more than painted, and the paint stuck perfectly. When he was done I just couldn't stop looking at myself from every angle, over and over.

You should see the pictures.

After I was done gazing at myself I had my friend tie my boyfriend's wrists to the headboard in the master bedroom and make his exit, stage right. Then I made my entrance as a cheetah, on all fours, complete with a leather collar around my neck. Without a word (you should hear me purr), I climbed on, came up to his face and pulled away just when he tried to kiss me (I'm a tease!) and unbuttonned his shirt. Then I unbuckled his belt, unbuttonned his jeans and pulled them down, all with my teeth, same with his underwear. Oh, how I love to see a boner set free. You can see how happy the little guy is.

Rrrowr.

Then, more teasing. At first, only light brushes with my fingers; very light brushes, the kind which make you shiver, then with my hair. My nipples. The inside of my thighs. My nose. My lips... I made this last for a long time, cautiously avoiding the most interesting part of his anatomy, until I suddenly inhaled his erection. You should've heard his groan! You should've felt how he shook! That alone made it worth all the trouble. There's nothing like having a man's dick in your mouth when you know that you are taking inside you the center of his universe; feeling control and harmony at the same time. Not to mention the delicious taste of his uncut dick, skin, and precum.

Then I gave the blowjob of my life.

I don't want to give away too many of my secret techniques. You know how much I love blowjobs, and how good I am at them--I outdid myself that day. Let's just say that the penis is a more complex instrument than most people realize. It has a variety of sensitive areas, which can be stimulated in different ways, separately or together. Add to that two eager, expert hands and two big, firm boobs, and you've got the ingredients for a great exprerience. Licking (and how many different ways there are to lick!) the back of the shaft, just that sensitive spot at the back of the head, or the whole ring at the top of the shaft, which is so sensitive, rubbing the head through the foreskin... Deepthroating the head, stimulating it with thrusts or with motions of the back of the tongue... Licking, sucking, gently biting the ballsack. Boob fucking. Rimjobs. Slapping the cock against the face, tits, and the whole body: I just love the feeling of that warm, wet and hard flesh. I could go on and on: it's one of my favourite hobbies! An A+ blowjob takes its time, stopping before the man comes to let him relax, delaying the climax to drive him crazy and make it that much better. A STELLAR blowjob mixes all those different techniques, seamlessly seguing from the less to the more stimulating ones for a continuous, long, mind-warping, rising tide of pleasure.

Like a song.

But for that you need to know the man well, be able to recognize his reactions and know how to adapt to them. Last guy I fell in love with, was short, fat and had weird, pale skin because he had no gallbladder. Yet, since I loved him, not only was he the hottest man on the planet, but he was the defining standard of hotness for me. His body drove me wild because it was so hot, to me. He had a tiny penis that I could still describe in every detail, because I spent days, literally, with my head between his legs, sucking him off over and over, or just lying there, enjoying, watching. With the cousins it was much less peaceful. You know which cousins I'm referring to--the two guys I met at that camp a few years ago. I've always loved sex, and the male form, and the male charm, but what they brought out of me is different. They were the ones who shot loads of come in my mouth and made me swallow when I thought it was disgusting, until I couldn't get enough. They were the ones who forced themselves down my throat and up my ass, who taught me to control my gag reflex and to enjoy it.

They made a cocklover out of me.

And did I love sucking his cock. Of course, there's that good craftsman feeling you get when you do something that you're really good at doing, like playing a familiar piece on an instrument, or driving a car you know well. Noticing the old markers, watching as everything clicks, and telling to yourself with pride: "Yep. I still got it." There's the feeling of control, too. Except when it's facefucking, blowjobs totally put the girl in control of the dumbstick, and that feels great. But of course, that's not the main appeal, especially not that time. I simply love sucking cock. In general, and especially then: there was everything. There was the musky, head-spinning smell of an uncut penis. The salty, sticky precum. The abundant slobber. The warmth. Something that's simply more than the sum of all these parts. Every time I would pull out, and there would be that thin string of precum mixed with saliva extending from his head to my mouth. Every time I would slap it against myself, and feel the wet mark it left. Every time I would break the cycle of simple sucking by pushing his head into my throat, I would feel great. Accomplished, euphoric--I don't know how to describe it. And he seemed to enjoy it, too. Grunts, groans, and towards the end it'd turned into a loud, continuous moan of pleasure, where a twinge of frustration and agony were easily discernable. And he's a really silent lover. More than once, especially toward the end, I was really afraid he'd blow before I decided, which was, quite simply, a mistake I was not going to make.

Fortunately, I'm THAT good.

He was going stark mad with pleasure and inability to orgasm, but I kept going. For several minutes of agony. Then I inhaled his cock, forcing him in my throat, all the way to the hilt. Then I did something with controlled gags and the back of my tongue that's not really possible to explain with words, which causes the warm, wet throat to basically grab and stroke the head. A testament to my timing, it took him about 3 seconds of this, a long time considering the circumstances, to shoot. He came like a storm, with a huge scream, thrusting madly--he would've hurt my nose if I hadn't prepared. He came and came and came. We hadn't had sex for a long while except a few handjobs, and this was the delicious, abundant, thick load of a man really emptying his balls. I didn't have to swallow, since the last third of his cock was beyond my tonsils, but I still greeted his load eagerly, despite regretting not being able to taste it. I could feel its warmth, its thickness and its quantity in my oesophagus and stomach, and even that was a great pleasure. He came in long, juicy spurts, each one accompanied with a violent, uncomfortable and involuntary thrust of his hips, and yet I still hung on like a rodeo rider, my lips firmly clasped to the base of his dick. He would stop for a few seconds, then it would start up again, a few more spurts accompanied by spasms, a pause, and then again. It was interminable.

Then he passed out.

Even after he'd lost consciousness he squirted a few last drops. Only after he was all spent did I pull out and catch my breath. I was IMMENSELY proud of myself for such a good blowjob. My only wish would've been to be able to regurgitate that huge load of delicious come, into my mouth, and onto my hands, breasts and body. To watch him watch me play with it. I would swirl it, feeling its thick, complex texture, I would make bubbles, I would drool it over my breasts and body. Eventually, I would collect it and swallow it all, but only after a long time of enjoyment. But he was out, and it was all in my belly, where I could still feel it, and that did make me proud. I looked at his dick, which was bright red and swollen like his gets after he's spent, watched it slowly go flaccid, blew air on it to cool him down. I untied him, pulled the rope his wrists had been bound with through the hoop in my leather collar and knotted it into a leash.

I was his pet cheetah.

My original plan was to curl up at his feet like one and wait for him to wake up, but, since he hadn't had sex in a long time, unsurprisingly, I hadn't either and, unsurprisingly, the blowjob had turned me on intensely. I had been too consumed to pay attention, but I'd gone wet, and even dripped down the inside of my thighs. After I'd curled up, through no decision of my own, my hand was between my thighs rubbing my pussy lips together. I grabbed a breast with the other hand, rolled over on my back and before I'd even realised it I was masturbating, to nothing in particular, just leading my physical arousal to its destined end. Before long my inconsiderate moaning awoke my sleeping mate. At first, all he did was to watch me. So I put on a show. I'm also very good at that, you know. I arched my back more markedly, gave out more sensual moans, played with my breasts ostentatiously, all the while looking directly in his eyes, in a way which made it unquestionable that it was the thought of him that was driving me wild like that. It didn't take long for him to get hard again and, as I grabbed his cock and started stroking it slowly while jacking myself off, I spoke the first words since I'd walked in the room that day:

"Fuck me."

He just grinned, and started to rub his hands over my body, my legs, my wet inner thighs, my hard stomach, my big breasts, even my whiskers, and put a finger into my mouth which I bit, so he bit my nipple, to which I responded to with a yelp and a grin. He rolled over to the bedside table and pulled out a handful of condoms, which he dropped over my body like confetti. My giggles were interrupted by a moan, as I was always edging closer to climax. He rubbed my inner thighs, as I was rubbing my pussy lips together with one hand and my clitoris with the other. My legs were wide spread, my moaning was loud and I was starting to lose control. Grabbing my leash, he made me roll on my stomach. I sucked a finger and probed my ass with it, a hand taking care of each hole. I started making back and forth motions with my body to rub my sensitive nipples against the sheets and, instinctively, to imitate the motions of fucking. Behind me, I heard him open a condom package and put it on, but since I couldn't see what kind it was I didn't know where he'd fuck me. He pulled hard on my leash and I responded immediately, my body tense and awaiting. Then I felt a huge weight on me. It was all over me, heavy, hot, hairy, sweaty, smelly, and terribly erotic: a man. With his strange blend of roughness and tenderness he began kneading my shoulders as he physically dominated me. I could feel his erect penis poking one of my buttcheeks and I instinctively reared up against it, eager for his cock. I gave out a pleading, frustrated moan, to which he responded by tugging on my leash. He kissed me and bit my ear as he needlessly grabbed his dick and rubbed it against my pussy, pulling it away, then rubbing it slightly, pulling away... He did this for a few times, and I gave a mad scream of frustration, trying to wriggle away from under his dominating mass, which was impossible. The more I struggled, the tighter he dominated me. I pushed my ass up into him in another attempt to get him to fuck me, but he pushed me down with his big hand and kissed my neck. I wasn't aware of what was going on. I had two fingers up my ass thrusting in and out, a finger rubbing my clitoris, and this huge, heavy, sweaty man pinning me down, holding me by a leash, and I wanted to come. Then, he penetrated me.

I came.

Instantly. Orgasmic cacophony, tectonic plates shifting, colliding, crashing, muscles shaking, legs stretching, moans and more moans, screams without one thought, the divinity of an orgasmic woman. When I recovered I was stupefied. He'd made me wait and long for him just like I'd made him wait and long during his blowjob, and as soon as he penetrated me I came with an orgasm that was more than just the completion of a clit-rubbing session. He knew me that well. But before I could formulate too many thoughts, the man over me began thrusting. He fucked me, and I moaned with every thrust. Just like his domination was merciless, he kissed me, my neck, my ear in a very intimate way, silently huffing and grunting. He was just concerned with fucking, his pleasure, and he dominated me in order to get that pleasure from me, and that typically MALE attitude is an incredible turn-on. My toes were curling. Like a male feline fucking a cheetah in the jungle he was just mounting me. And yet at the same time he gently kissed me. He put his arms underneath my shoulders and grabbed my neck, pushing it down. This completely pinned me down, but gave him a better hold of me. The thrusts grew stronger, and so did my moans. He pulled up, pinning me down on the mattress with his arms while still fucking me. It was pretty rough by now, and I was far up the orgasm slope again. I could feel the layer of sweat on my back where he'd been pressing against me. He kept doing this for a while until he grabbed my leash, and pulled on it until I got up on all fours. I was on my hands and knees, almost overcome with pleasure, clenching the sheets, hair messed up, sweat glistening over my cheetah makeup, a dick inside me and pleasure on my face.

I must've looked pretty good.

He pumped me from behind for a while as bigger and bigger waves of pleasure washed over me, making me bury my face in the mattress to muffle my screams. He played with my breasts, fingered my ass and gave me the finger to suck. He pinched and kneaded my ass a lot. Lots of guys do this. What can I say, I've got a great ass! After a while he just grabbed me by the shoulders and pumped away, faster, rougher. I relished every wet sound of flesh banging through the haze of sexual pleasure, until he dropped on all fours over me, against me, the master and his cheetah. I could feel his hot breath against my face as he licked my ear, my neck, my cheek. His thrusts became really slow but equally forceful, pulling away almost entirely and then thrusting himself back in slowly but strongly, smacking hard against me each time, banging my whole body forward with each thrust and turning my moan into a scream. He only had to do this for a few times before I came, loudly, my arms buckling from under me, biting the sheets as I roared with pleasure and he gave incredibly strong thrusts which made me slide forward on the bed even though I was clutching and biting the sheets, until he made that low grunt I learned to recognize and love, spasming, orgasming, burying his cock all the way into me, pulling on my leash. He collapsed over me like at the beginning for the few final thrusts, until he rolled us over to the side, staying inside me as we spooned and I wrapped his big arm around me, putting his hand on my breast.

Now that's life.

I pulled him out out and took off his condom, tying a knot in the middle and sparing a thought for all the potential for life wasted by our selfish quest for pleasure. Then I threw it away, to be collected and flushed at a later date. They say you're not supposed to flush used condoms, but I do, and nothing bad's happened so far. I grabbed his cock and sucked the glistening head softly, minding its heightened sensitivity. I love hot, slowly softening cocks after an orgasm. I licked it a little more, enjoying the mixed taste of come, dick and the condom's plastic. Then I got back into his spoon, wrapping his arm around me. Mmmm. I coul've fell asleep and napped there forever. After a while I felt SOMETHING poking me in the ass. What could it be? I reached behind and stroked it, feeling his dick grow and harden in my hand. He grabbed my leash and sat up as I got on all fours, facing him. He pulled down on the leash, bringing my face to his dick, and I responded to the unsubtle hint appropriately. I was just sucking up and down, wondering if he would make me give him another one of my exceptional blowjobs, when he dropped the leash, gently pulling my hair in a ponytail which he firmly held, and slowly forcing my head down until his tasty dick hit the back of my mouth, and he kept pushing until it forced its way into my throat, and again until my lips were wrapped around the base of his cock.

He moaned loudly, and kept pushing my head down.

I was fighting my increasingly strong gag reflex as he kept my face against him, his pubic hair grating my skin. He held me there for a long while. I was fighting not to squirm but not quite managing, being relieved I hadn't had breakfast that morning. He calmy put his other hand on my head, holding me there like an object. It was hell, trying not to barf, drooling, managing not to choke on it, trying to keep sucking him... He knew me well, just as I was about to grab him, signalling I really couldn't go on, he pulled me up. I drew a huge breath, grinning with pride, drool oozing from my puffed lips. His dick was now fully hard, glistening. I knew I wanted some of that, and he knew what that look meant. He grabbed my leash and pulled me, as I followed him on all fours, and he laid me on my back, my shoulders and head hanging off the side of the bed. I knew what this meant, and grinned. I saw him grin back before the view was obscured by his genitals, made massive-looking by my perspective. He dropped his ballsack on my face several times for a thorough teabagging. I love balls. I just love the way they hang proudly in their sack, how heavy they are. I'm no zoophiliac, but when I see a big dog walking down the street with those two testicles dangling with each step, it just reminds me of how powerful and strong males are, and that just turns me on. I opened my mouth wide as he put one, and two balls in, filling it with the salty taste of his scrotum. I was masturbating, my upside-down head was tingly, I was terribly turned on. He pulled out and positionned his dick before my wide-open mouth. In a terribly sweet grooming gesture, he pulled out a pubic hair that was stuck between my teeth.

Then he grabbed my face and fucked the hell out of it.

This position, which made me completely powerless, also turns the mouth and throat into basically one long tunnel, which he was fucking, while holding my head steady with his two large hands. I always loved his big, hairy hands, which look hard enough to punch through concrete. I hadn't expected more oral pleasure and, as I masturbated, the thought I focused on was the taste of his cock and the feeling in my tongue and in my throat of having my face fucked like any other orifice. His warm, heavy balls bounced on my forehead. My loud moans of pleasure were garbled by the wet sound of his thrusts. He would stop to knead my breasts, or slap them with his saliva-coated dick. He would also cockslap my face, of course, the forehead, eyes, lips, cheeks, on the outside and on the inside. It was hot and wet, I loved it. The blowjob was the kind of stuff which makes you salivate profusely, and the slobber would drool down my mouth and onto the rest of my face, so, gently, he would collect it with his fingers and put it back in my mouth, wiping his fingers on my cheeks. He kept screwing my face for a while until my fingers rode the wave to the end and, my legs shooting out and my toes curling, I came with a roar. He pulled out and the sounds of my orgasm made him shoot with an intense grunt. I had front row seats: the first shot arched way over and landed somewhere on the bed, I got hit below the navel, a couple times on my tits. He milked the rest on my face and wiped the last drop on a nipple.