We're sitting on their couch, comfortably close, and we're looking at each other, drinks in hand. I can feel the heat simmering between us, helpless to hide my desires.
"So what is it," they ask, "that you most want?" They're wearing a black button-up with the sleeves rolled up.
"Um, I don't know," I stammer. "You've read my stuff. You know. Exhibitionism. Being fucked by a group of butches."
They nod, waiting patiently for me to continue.
"I guess I want the vulnerability of it. The giving into desire so deeply that it doesn't matter how many times or how many people fuck me, I give myself to all of it."
They take a sip of their drink - a beer, which I can't stand.
"Do you have any other desires you want to give into?" they ask in their sweet, husky voice. I melt. Sparks fly inside me.
"Maybe," I whisper.
We stare at each other, and I can barely breathe. I swallow involuntarily, surprised by my throat closing.
"Is there anything you want to tell me, Lane?"
I swallow again, on purpose this time, trying to gather myself.
"I..." I start, trailing off. I glance at their lips, and are they leaning in closer to me? They smell like beer and cologne and it's distracting me. "I, uh..."
"Yes?" they ask, patiently. Their arm is around the back of the sofa, next to me, and they're so close I could kiss them.
I take a sip of my chardonnay. Wine always turns me on, gets my blood flowing to just the right places. I think about this, and take another, longer drink.
I set my glass down and look them in the eyes, feeling bold.
"I want you."
They look at me heavy with desire and I can feel the sparks fly inside me again. Their hand reaches for my face and they lean in closer, brushing our lips together softly, gently asking for permission for more. I kiss them back harder and they accept my permission, gripping my face with both hands and slipping their tongue out to tease my lips, making me whimper. I respond with my own tongue, exploring, moaning into their mouth. They taste like beer, and I love it.
They pull back, looking me in the eyes. "What do you want?" they breathe.
They go in for my neck, kissing and licking and sucking, and I stuff my hand in their hair and grip down hard.
"Fuck," I say. "Fuck, Taylor."
"I asked a question," they say insistently, returning to kissing my neck.
"You," I pant. "I want you."
"I want you to be more specific than that," they say in a low voice next to my ear. "I know you can be."
I whimper. "I want to climb in your lap and ride your fingers and be a good slut for you," I blurt out.
"Ohh," they growl. "Now that's a good boy. Fuck."
They pull me into their lap and keep kissing my neck, probably leaving a hickey that I'll remember for days. I grind on them, feeling wet and desperate already. My jeans are tight and offer a delicious friction against their lap.
"Do you want me to call you Daddy, or sir?" I ask, looking into their eyes and breathing hard. They slip a hand between us and rub my cunt through my jeans, making me moan, "Oh, oh, oh."
"The boy can choose," they answer. God.
"Fuck, Daddy," I blurt, not planning to, but evidently choosing for myself.
"Good boy," they praise, reaching for my button and zipper and slipping their hand into my pants to rub me through my underwear. My moaning pitches higher and I start to jerk on their fingers, planting my hands firmly on their shoulders and grinding.
"Fuck," they mutter, looking up and down at my body with lust and depravity.
"Please," I beg. It feels so good. "Uh. Oh. Oh. Please. Please, Daddy. Please fuck me."
They growl and slip their hand into my underwear, reaching my wet opening and stroking me. "Ohhh!" I cry out. I'm so sensitive already. I'm panting fuck over and over, jerking my hips quickly back and forth in a frantic rhythm, thinking of nothing but the pleasure coiling inside me.
"You desperate little slut," they say in awe. "Just like I imagined."
My body lights on fire when they say this. They imagined me. At first I'm speechless, but then I throw my head back and say, "Yes, fuck, I'm a slut for you. Daddy. Sir. Oh, fuck."
"Do you want my fingers inside you, baby?" they ask, mouth open in awe of me.
"Yes. Fuck. Fuck me." I grind harder, desperate to feel them inside me, desperate to be fucked. "Please."
"Good boy," they grunt as they sink a finger into my wet cunt. I moan louder for them, so sweetly, praising them and thanking them for how good it feels.
I dig my hands into their hair and pull their head back to look at me while I ride them, breathing hard. "Please," I say.
"Please what?" they ask with curiosity.
"Please don't stop," I whimper.
"Tell me what else you want tonight, boy," they instruct, pumping their thick middle finger in and out of me. I'm tight, and they're taking it slow.
"Fuck," I shudder. "I, uh, want, your cock, sir," I say slowly, pausing at every word. I know that's not specific enough. I struggle to put into words what I want. I just want them, however they want me.
"Is that all?" they ask, curling their finger inside me and tearing a low moan from my throat.
"Fuck," I gasp. "No. I want... I want you to use me however you want, Daddy. Do whatever you want with me. I'm yours."
They grin in a devilish way while their finger reaches inside me and strokes flames of pleasure up my body. "Good boy," they praise. "Daddy will take good care of you."
I melt, a whimper escaping from my mouth. "Yes, Daddy," I pant. "Fuck me, Daddy. God. Fuck. You feel so good fucking me. Please, Daddy."
Their finger curls again and I moan for them, loud, deep, like a slut.
"More," I beg. "More fingers."
They growl in pleasure, pulling their finger out of my pussy and sinking two fingers back in, and I reward them with my loudest moan yet, my pussy clenching on their fingers.
I'm still mostly dressed, and I feel this suddenly. I grind my hips on their fingers and start to unbutton my shirt, revealing that I'm wearing nothing underneath, and they look at my small tits hungrily.
"Fuck," they say, gazing at my chest. "You're perfect."
I blush at this, looking at their hungry face and hoping that they're thinking about sucking my nipples, because fuck, I want that. I tug on their hair and pull their gaze to my eyes.
"Do you..." I start to say, and then their fingers in my cunt feel really good suddenly, and I can't finish. "Do you want to kiss them?" I finish asking.
They nod, dipping their head to lick and gently suck at my sensitive nipple. "Fuck," I whimper. "Taylor. Oh fuck, that's so good. Yeah. Like that. Please. Fuck."
They hum on my nipple and the vibrations shoot straight to my clit and I moan for them. Their fingers are fucking and stretching me open, and my hips are rocking into their hand to match their rhythm. "Fuck me, Taylor."
"Lane," they growl. Hearing my name in their deep, husky voice makes a blush stretch out across my face and chest.
I dig my hands into their hair, clinging desperately, panting and grunting as I ride their fingers like a good slut the way I promised. They grunt as I tug on their hair, looking up at me with dark, lustful eyes.
"You're such a delicious little slut," they tell me.
"God," I say. "Fuck."
"Good boy," they say, fucking me a little faster, and my desperate whimpers and moans grow louder.
"Yes, Daddy," I agree, "Your good boy."
"Fuck," they grunt, using their hips to fuck their fingers up into me harder, like their fingers are their cock, and I practically cum right there.
"Oh, God," I gasp. "Fuck me, Daddy. Yes. Fuck me. Fuck me. God, Taylor. Fuck. Please."
"Please what?" they challenge me, fucking me harder. It drives me wild.
"Please, please... Please fuck me til I cum on your fingers like a needy little slut."
"Good boy," they say. "God, you're such a fucking slut."
The way they say it, with a husky, deep tenor in their voice, makes me want to melt in their arms.
"Yes, Daddy. Your slut. Fuck. Fuck your fingers feel so good in my tight little cunt. Do you like fucking me?" My question is punctuated with a loud moan.
"Fuck," they groan. "Fuck yes. God, your tight little cunt takes my fingers so well. I can't wait to get my cock in you, you dirty slut. Do you want to cum for me, baby?"
I moan and tremble, nodding and gasping, unable to answer with words as my orgasm overtakes my body and I pulse and clench on their fingers. I scream for them, showing them how loud I can be. I'm panting as I come down from my high, clinging to their shoulders.
"God, you're such a good little slut," they praise me.
They pull their fingers from my cunt and slip them in their mouth, groaning at the taste. "Fuck, I can't wait to eat your pussy," they promise. My mouth goes dry at the sight of them sucking off their fingers, and I kiss them hard, slipping my tongue in their mouth and tasting myself. I moan.
My cunt is throbbing and dripping and ready to be fucked again. I want their mouth, their fingers, their cock.
I kiss their neck, bringing my mouth to their ear. "Do you want to fuck my pussy, Daddy?" I whisper.
I feel their hands on my hip grip tighter
"Fuck, you dirty little slut," they swear. "Desperate for it again already?"
I nod, pulling their fingers to my mouth to suck on them too. They groan.
I'm straddling them, and they pick me up and carry me to the bed like that, and God, it makes me hot to be carried effortlessly. They toss me on the bed and tug my pants off, my boxers too, leaving me naked and waiting.
They look at me hungrily, like they're a hunter and I'm the prey they just caught. I'm burning under their gaze.
"I'm going to eat your pussy and you're going to cum on my face and scream like a slut again, got it?" they say bossily, and I nod helplessly.
"Use your words, boy," they growl.