"Oh god!! Oh god!! Fuck me harder!! Slam it into me!! Oh yah!!...
Jesus Christ! Can't you fuck harder than that??? Let me have it!!...
Oh yah, oh yah, oh yah, mmm, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coooommmmminnnnng!!"
I was trying to get this dickhead to slam it into me as hard as I need to have it. Finally, he gets there and so do I. I was a pool of sweat, I looked over at him as he flopped onto his back, and I was breathing so hard ... and I thought my heart was about to burst.
I said to him, "Whew, that was amazing... finally! You deserve the blowjob of your life for that!" I never let strangers inside me without a latex overcoat, so I would have to sponge him a little to let him have a blowjob.
He says, "Yah bitch, put your little slut mouth on me and blow me good!"
Now, I am not exactly a prude as you can tell, but I really hate that B-word! I look at him hard, and with a coarse laugh, decided to give him a little needed 411, "Listen, dickhead, nobody calls me a bitch. Slut, okay but if you treasure your balls, you will not call me a bitch... I hate that name. Also, I am the one in charge here ... not you. You got that weasel-dick?"
"Listen, BITCH! No BITCH is going to tell me what to do. Got it BITCH!" he countered as he laughed. I rose to my knees, grabbed his balls in a vice grip, and threaten,
"Say BITCH one more time asshole!! If you want to keep these, you will do as I say. You are the one who is getting free pussy so just shut the fuck up and do your job. If you leave here with blue-balls, thank heaven you are leaving with any balls at all. Got it?"
I am a martial arts expert... a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. Since I am just five foot three and one hundred ten pounds, I have to be. I need to have sex... lots of sex, and I have learned to protect myself from dicks like this guy. Unfortunately, I also need men like Trent, who I am with tonight. I need them to pound me hard. They are just someone with a hard cock, and nothing else. I have learned to take care of myself when I am with them. I can dump a six-foot two, two-twenty pound man on his ass, and jam a five-inch heel into his groin before he knows what's happening.
I squeezed Trent's balls a little tighter, and he became very compliant, very quickly. He leaves, and I am alone. Sadness overwhelms me as it always does, and sitting naked on the edge of the bed, I start to cry to myself with soft but bitter tears. An uncontrollable sense of self-loathing consumes me.
My name is Angela... get it? As in angelic! Ha, ha what a joke! Daddy didn't know what he had when looked down into my soft round honey-brown eyes, and named me Angela. I am a small twenty-eight year old woman with light brown hair and brown eyes. I am pretty, and my brown eyes strike most people first. I keep active physically and have a shapely little ass... or so they tell me. I try to maintain a tan on my pretty legs, and I have firm apple-sized tits with puffy nipples. I am sometimes hard on my lovers as you can see, but I have to be. I am really a sweet and loving person, and I am married to a most wonderful and loving man.
My husband Robert is neither a wimp, nor what Shakespeare would call a "cuckold." No one actually uses that word anymore except on some of those porno-story sites. Robert is an intelligent man with a good job, and understands my problem, and my um, "needs." He is slightly larger than average, Trent is much larger and thicker but is an asshole. When I am with Robert, he is in charge, but when I am with a dick like Trent, I am in charge. Like most of these guys, he occasionally needs a little ... education! I do not want to be too hard on Trent because he has a nice dick, and I like it inside me.
I am a lawyer, who also just happens to suffer from nymphomania, also clinically known as hyper-sexuality. I simply cannot get enough sex. With most women who suffer from this affliction, there is usually a trigger point that initiates the condition. It can be abuse and some hypersexual situation after coming of age. My cravings began at my eighteenth birthday party with an innocent adolescent game. A simple kissing game ended up with my having sex with a boy at the party... and then with every boy at the party... twice! Over the past ten years, my cravings have not abated.
I met Robert several years ago when defending the Hospital in a lawsuit, and we fell in love. He was aware of my affliction from the start since I was up-front about it, and he has tried to be as supportive as he can. I make love to Robert as often as I can... well, actually as often as he can. He is a strong lover, and the only one I feel safe with when we have sex. He is the only one I allow to be inside me barebacked... all the rest wear latex, or they don't any piece of this sweet little ass. I was less careful at first, but my relationship with Robert gave me a reason to take more care.
Robert knows what I like and how I like it. We also fondle and kiss, and we can lie together and whisper sweet nothings to each other for hours. Unfortunately, I often need it again soon afterward, so I have to turn to my toys. Robert works mostly at night as a pediatric surgeon. I will never, never invite any other man into the home that Robert and I share for sex; that is our sanctuary. Someday we will have children of our own, but not until my condition is better... or at least controllable. I do not want my sweet babies thinking that I am a slut!
All I ever need in a man (other than Robert) is someone who fucks me long and hard, and cries when I smack him. I am a hard ass just when I need to be, but I at other times, just a sweet little pussycat. So let us explore the mind of a nymphomaniac together for a while, shall we? I have girlfriends, and we laugh and giggle, and go to wedding showers, you know... just girl kinds of stuff. It is just that I need sex frequently and sometimes with multiple partners. I have dozens of toys; some are gifts from Robert to satisfy myself when I cannot go out looking for a flesh and blood partner. I always keep a nice little six-inch vibrator in my purse for emergency use. I also sometimes use a small butt plugs on a limited basis to fill my pussy when I am working on a case alone in my office.
Tonight, Trent has pissed me off by being a... guy, so he gets pussy (three times), but no blowjob and sent on his merry way with a set of sore balls. Trent is okay, he is tall and handsome, and a smooth talker. I met him a couple of weeks ago at a local club. I visit clubs often, but have learned to be careful. I usually sit back for a bit watching. I have become a very good judge of character and look for someone who might be kind and considerate. It has to be someone who might be willing to come to my aide if needed. As I sit there, I can feel the burning need building in my hips and inner thighs, and I have to have someone's... anyone's cock inside me soon.
For example, I was at a club just last night, wearing a short... and I mean a very short black dress, with no bra and no panties. I usually go without panties, because I love the way the silk lining of my dress feels as it slides across my ass. I love to wear thigh-high sheer stockings, and sometimes with a garter belt because they are so sexy. But often, due to my overall tan, I can go without stockings. I use the five-inch heels to kind of level the playing field for a short little chick like me. I always have a dozen or so condoms in my clutch; because I do not want any of these dickheads coming inside me... that privilege is reserved exclusively for my sweet husband, Robert. Since Robert works nights mostly, I am not taking time away from him or our marriage going to the clubs.
I am not exactly fond of doing so much clubbing, but a lioness has to go where the meat is, doesn't she? I always ask the bartender to serve me watered-down drinks to keep my wits about me, no matter who pays for them. I usually only have to pay for one. Robert and I have talked extensively about how to protect myself, and this was one of his ideas. But, he has never disclosed to me his exact feelings about what I have to do, but it must be hurtful to him. It hurts me deeply realizing that. I do not exactly have all the clinical information, but as I understand, a woman can become addicted to the dopamine produced in the brain from sexual orgasms. So, just as an alcoholic would seek treatment, I am in treatment for my addiction and have meds.
I love to dance, and usually have no problem attracting partners. That night I was dancing close with a nice looking man with a decent build. As we danced close, he slid his hand down over my little ass. I like that. I like a man's hands on me and I liked this guy, so I let him slip a hand under my short dress and onto my naked ass. He introduced himself as James (I never give or ask for last names when I am out). James is handsome, and has a nice athletic shape. My people-radar tells me that he is also a nice person and someone I might be able to trust. I laid my head on his chest, with my hands on his chest as well... just kind of cuddling. I like to do that when I am dancing to a slow number.
James was rubbing my ass over my dress and I just cooed, content with my having a man holding me. His fingers eventually found their way under my dress, and he touched me lightly between my buttocks, just lightly tracing his finger up and down my crevice. I was moaning softly into his chest with a satisfied smile. I could feel myself getting very wet, and it was not long before his finger found my pussy. Just a tickle at first, but then he slid it into me as we danced. I opened my legs a little to give him freer access. I rose up on my toes and kissed him as he fingered me. I softly said to him, "Let's find a quiet corner somewhere." I could feel in my hips and thighs that the "monster" was awakening, and I would need to have sex... a lot of sex, soon.
James kissed me, and took my hand any led me into a dark corner of the hallway that leads to the restrooms. We were in a dark alcove by a side exit door used only for emergencies. It was a quiet place, but anyone passing by might see what we were doing. I didn't care. I asked him to fuck me, and I produced a condom for him to wear.
He looked at it and said, "Whoa, I don't like those things, I like to feel myself inside of a woman."