Destiny.

We heard the news yesterday, that the coroner has released the body following the death of my friend.  A moment of sadness, but also a moment which means that family and friends can now make plans to say a final farewell.  A farewell to someone who was special to a lot of people.

They were a friend, who had touched life in many different ways.

Every person you encounter in your life, whether it is significant or not, leaves an imprint on your soul… from the tiniest speck to a small mark to a huge spot. Sometimes they are like wounds that need time to heal, and sometimes they are like kisses that you wish you had more of. Everyone is important…they help to shape us to be the people that we need to be to be able find our true happiness.

They couldn't find their happiness in life and that makes my heart ache so very much for them.  They used to say be who you are, believe in yourself, be the person that you want to be and you will find happiness and ultimately the person you are meant to share it with.  My heart aches that they never found that happiness.

They once said to me, enjoy the journey in getting to that place, enjoy the people you encounter along the way.  Each person comes into life for a reason even if we may not see it at the time, they may be there for only a short period of time, but there's still a reason, it just may take us time to figure out what that reason is.  And sometimes, that reason may not bring happy times, it may bring sadness and heartache and pain and that makes it doubly hard to ever understand why that person has come into our lives. 

We shared this conversation again on the night before they took their life, and their words echo in my mind.

And this parting comment . . .

There will be a time that journey will reach it's destination, a moment when you are truly happy, when you are loving but more so truly loved back, then you will know that you have arrived at your destiny, that the people you've met along the way were only part of that journey, and when you find that happiness, that love, know that it's your destiny and you've arrived at your destination.  If you're not truly loved back, if you're not truly happy, then it's not the destination and the journey is not over.

My friend was part of my journey, a journey where I've not reached my destination . . . their words will remain with me always, I wish that they were still taking their own journey, but hope with all my heart, that in their destination they are at peace.

Coffee with milk

She never prepared him coffee in the morning.

In fact, it was always him that made sure there was coffee ready each morning, a glass of fresh juice, all ready in place just for a quick drink before she headed out of the door.

This morning was no different, in terms of the mad rush that was the start to the working day.

Except it was different.

She had prepared breakfast.  He saw it laid out on the table where normally her coffee and juice would have been lovingly placed.  He knew she was up to something.  And yet, wasn't quite sure what.

She poured him a coffee as he sat at the table, leaning forward, kissing him deeply.  Her hand working its way into his hair pulling him closer, allowing her to kiss him harder.  He had an appointment and knew that he was going to be late, and yet, he could sense that she didn't care about that.

He knew exactly what was on her mind as she lowered herself into his lap, rubbing her naked sex up his leg, he could feel her arousal, a trail of wetness being left on his leg.  His cock began to harden, and she sensed this, moving herself quickly and deftly as she lowered herself down on top of him and as she kissed him deeper she began to slowly ride his cock.

She rode him harder, her muscles gripping him intensely.  Harder and faster she moved up and down the length of him, gripping his hair, kissing him, biting him, whispering things into his ear.

She asked him if he wanted milk in his coffee.  He struggled to answer between the kisses and the desperation he had not to come inside her.

And yet, he knew that she would know exactly when he was about to reach orgasm, after all, she had learned to read his body, his reactions. She played him well, exactly how she wanted, when she wanted.  And he was fast realising that this time was no different.

She raised herself off of his cock, almost until he came out of her, then pushing herself down its full length, her muscles tightening around him.  He knew it wouldn't be long until he would come.

On the next time she raised herself off from him, she stepped aside pulling him to his feet by his cock, masturbating him hard and fast she pulled his cup of coffee closer, and ordered him to "come now".

As he did so, he ejaculated into his own cup of coffee, the spurts of hot semen floating around on the dark hot liquid that she had poured only moments before.

She leant forward, picking up a spoon, stirring the coffee for him.

She sat down with her own freshly poured cup of coffee, watching him, smiling at him.  Watching as the realisation dawned on his face of what she was doing.  His body and mind recovering from the intensity of an unexpected orgasm. 

"There you go my darling boy, coffee with milk.  Now drink.  We wouldn't want you to be late would we?"









.

Watching

You were watching.

But only because you had no choice.  Although you didn't want the choice. Not in reality.

You were watching.

Only because you couldn't look anywhere else.  Only because your eyes were drawn to us.  Only because you knew deep down it was what you wanted . . .to watch.

Me with him.

Him with me.

Except, you never thought that the fantasy that lay deep in the recesses of your mind would ever make their way to a reality. 

Except, you never encountered on meeting someone who would take those fantasies and bring them to life, to make them play before your very eyes.  You never believed that what was in the dark and depraved parts of your mind would ever see daylight.

They did. With me.

And here you were watching.

Fighting yourself not to watch. Fighting the feelings that were rising within you as you watched him fuck me.  As you watched me fuck him.

Your eyes drawn to the moments of lust and lasciviousness passion, your cock responding to the desire that coursed through every inch of your body.  Wanting to be him. Yet wanting to watch me be with him.  Conflicting feelings, desires, longings.

Even though I did not look at you, I knew that there was the battle going on between wanting to be there, watching us, yet not wanting to watch me be with him, or him with me.  I didn't need to look at you to see the battle playing in your mind, the battle between your darkest desires and the reality colliding like waves hitting the rocks on a shore.

But, you wanted it.

You had told me.  I had reached into the depths of your darkest thoughts, bringing them to the surface, telling you that there would be a moment when the line between fantasy would become that reality.

You hadn't known when it would be.  The plans were all made, arranged without you really knowing.  All you knew was that it would. Happen that is.  You had no idea it was going to be the night it was, not until I had whispered into your ear over dinner that tonight was the night.

We still had several courses to go, speeches too, several hours for the mind to run through a whole host of scenarios. You didn't know how.  You didn't know when.  You didn't even know who or at least you didn't until I said that we had to get going, you stood up but then he stood up too.

And you knew.  Who it was at least.

And the rest, was soon to follow.  And now you were watching.

Watching he and I fuck.  Wanting it to be you. Wanting to be there. Wanting to be a million miles away.  The lust in your eyes, the desire, the wanting, the jealousy.  A hundred and one emotions colliding inside.

And you watched.

.

Stolen

The space where you were is like an unavoidable void, it grows with every second since you were there.  

I lie, with thoughts and memories of the feel of your body, the gentleness of your touch, the feel of your tongue.

The trail of kisses that you left down my back and over the cheeks of my ass, the tiny welts where your nails followed the same trail.
 
Although the bed is empty now, the weight of your body keeps me there.

The way your mouth hungrily found me, teased me, tasted me.  The gentle nips and bites to the softest of skin, making me lost in the way that you made me feel. 

The way you held my face in your hands, the light and depth within your eyes.  My heart stopped for that moment, because in that moment in time, you stole me with a kiss. 

Kiss in a perfect memory

Do you remember that afternoon in the park?

It was unusually warm for the time of year, the leaves that were hanging onto the trees made the dappled sunlight create such wonderful patterns on the grass beneath the canopy.

I wanted to climb under your skin.  I wanted to peel it back, tear you open, bare your innerself before me, making you open and vulnerable.

I can never remember the grass being as green and lush as it had been on that September afternoon.  The summer heat had failed to drain it of its colour.

I don't think I've ever had a more tender kiss.  Your lips were full and soft, they were filled with so many sentiments, filled with desire, with affection, with love.

When I leant down to meet you with my own, every single one of those things passed from your lips to my own, without a single word being spoken, without a single noise being made. A gentle tender kiss, yet filled with so much more.  Our tongues exploring, playing, teasing each other.  I can close my eyes and feel your lips against my own, reflecting upon the wonderful moment of poignancy, of attentivness, but certainly one without worries or solicitude.

The years pass.

Memories are filtered a million times and more, but I can still describe that kiss, that moment, just as I did back then.

It was tender. It was perfect. 

 

My toy!

The first time I brought you to orgasm was while you were talking to your mother. 

You had been talking to her for what seemed like an age.

I was bored.

My feet had been massaged to death and I decided that I wanted to tease, that I wanted your attention, your undivided attention. Not a little bit fitted in between a sentence every now and then.

I was playful.

And decided that you were the little toy that I wanted to play with.  Mother or no mother. 

I started to run my nails up and down the inner sides of your thighs, even beneath the trousers that you were wearing I know that you could feel them, I felt you shiver, I saw your own self begin to harden beneath the material.

Your eyes pleaded with me to stop, except it just made me want to tease you all the more, determined that I was going to make it as hard for you as possible (quite literally!)

Your breathing was beginning to change, you started to shift uncomfortably, and just when you were about to reply to her once again I started rubbing your hardening cock with my hand, causing you to gasp with a sharp intake of breath.  I heard you tell her that nothing was the matter and that you were listening.

I giggled as I began to tease you some more.  My hands working up and down the inner lengths of your thigh, gently brushing against your cock and balls every now and then, causing small sharp intakes of breath which made you look at me with pleading eyes; causing me to do it all the more.

I slowly unzipped your trousers, freeing the hardness that begged to be played with. Your eyes however begging me not to.  I grinned mischievously at you. You already knew that I wouldn't stop even if you asked me. A soft sigh escaped from your lips as I gently stroked you, all the time you just kept talking.

You didn't look at me when I lent over you, my tongue following the path of tiny raised welts that my finger nails had just carved into your skin.  You didn't dare to look at me as I began to tease your hardness with my tongue, flicking it quickly across the very tip.

Tantalisingly slowly, gently teasing.

You didn't dare to look at me when I reached up inside your shirt and started flicking your nipples with my fingernails.  More gasping, more sharp intakes of breath causing me to do it all the more, yet harder.  I watched you flinch each time I flicked the erect nipples with my nails, watching the way that you would screw your eyes tightly together and grimace, trying to find a way to quietly process the pain.  All the while listening and talking to your mother.

I gently twisted them between my finger and thumb, rolling them back and forward, gently at first, waiting until you were about to speak before twisting them hard, digging my nails in.  Watching you wince, while silent moans were desperately trying to escape.

Your mind was confused, not knowing whether to expect the gentlest of touches, or the harsh pain inducing force.  Back to teasing gently, I began to move your legs apart, exposing yourself to me, and I slid two fingers inside my mouth, wetting them with saliva, and watched the fear grow in your eyes as you tried to figure out what I was about to do.

Deep down, you already knew it.  Just as from the grin on my face you knew that I did too.

I was getting more daring.

The sadist in me was wanting to hurt you more.  And although you couldn't say it, I know that you were pleading with me not to as I teased the entrance to your ass with my finger.  Your cock began twitching, precum spilling over the end showing quite clearly that although you feared what was coming next that the reality was it aroused you.

And as I buried my fingers deep into you, I took your cock deep into my mouth, tasting you, teasing you with my tongue.  Licking it with force and fervor. You gasped, almost choked at the mixture of pleasure and pain, the mixture of delightful teasing combined with the intrusion into your body.

I took your cock deep into my throat, my tongue teasing around the head, flicking with great enthusiasm.  I could tell from the way that you were tensing up that you would not be able to hold it anymore.

Between gasps and sighs, between deep inhalations and brief exclamations your words stuttered, as you struggled to find the words.  All the time I am teasing you, sucking you, working you provocatively to the edge.  My fingers working competently yet arousingly until you can fight it no longer.

I knew that she was confused about what was happening and I knew that you were struggling to deny that anything was happening, your own mind confused with trying to focus on the conversation but distracted intensely with my mouth, my hand, my fingers.  And through sighs and moans as I took you from my mouth, one hand working frenziedly over your cock, the others fingers working deeply into your ass, you came. 

You struggled to find the words between your moans but managed to say goodbye to your mother.


I took the phone from your hand placing it onto the table smiling at you while sitting back and watching your expression.

I grinned at your confusion, your embarrassment.

I grinned at my toy.

Lingering taste

It had been over a year since I had seen you last, but I knew at the moment that I saw your face again, that I wouldn't be seeing it again after this.

I sat in the passenger seat of your car, but the distance between you and I was oh so much greater.

The coldness of the lack of words could have turned our lips to ice, and it was clear that the water hadn't yet passed under the metaphoric bridge.  

You had started to drive and I had wished that I hadn't stepped into your car at all.

But I had.

It was my choice.

I needed to know that although I felt it was the last time, that I had to make sure that it was.  I don't know why I was doubting myself.  Maybe it was because of that water that hadn't quite passed beneath that bridge.  But whatever it was, it made me step into your car.

Your words drove over the past, raking it up, just like we had raked over so many times before.  Your voice was breaking, I refused to look at you, refused to acknowledge the pain in your eyes.  You kept it in, just in the way that you always had tried to when we had first met.  I remembered the first time that you had allowed the tears to fall, that you had given in to those feelings, those emotions, those tears for me.  But, that ability to keep it all in, was something that had never truly left you.  A pretence of a strength that you felt you had to show, as if showing the emotion, the feeling, the truth was a sign of an inner weakness that we know wasn't there.

You had stopped in the layby only just out of sight.  There had been times when we hadn't even worried about that, stopping where or when we had needed or when the desire had become too much.  And we began to make a journey mixed with longing and lust but most certainly nostalgia.

Your hands made their way to touch me.  I leant back, closed my eyes, lost to the moment that hadn't been felt for so very long.  You asked to taste me.  To taste me before we parted ways, and in silence as I watched the lines of headlights pass by the car casting shadows over your face that I knew every inch of, I knew for sure that it was the last time. 

You drove me home then.

And as I walked up the pathway and stood at the front door, I watched you touch your lips with your fingers, and knew that you had discovered the lingering taste of a final goodbye.

I still can't . .

Separated by a metal table topped with slight smoked glass, you sat there and looked at me, waiting for me to speak.

I shook my head.

"I still can't." 

This was the third time that you'd been in this same situation, the third time that I'd had to give the same answer.  It didn't please me telling you that I couldn't.  It didn't please me professionally speaking that you were there at all.

But you were.

And while it may not have pleased me professionally speaking, personally I was quite pleased you were.  The vulnerability in your eyes, the chiselled face which turned almost boyish when you broke out into the beaming smile that I will always remember.  

You looked at me, a slight pleading in your eyes.

"I can't do it." I said more forcefully.  "You know that I cannot do it."

You had started to plead with your eyes and I had to look away because I couldn't and wasn't prepared for you to reach in and pull out my insides to put on view.  

You stood up, not breaking your gaze.  I in turn remained seated, sorting out the paperwork on the table, watching your feet through the top of the glass table.  You weren't moving anywhere, just stood rooted to the spot.

"I can't do it. Not until it is right. Not until you've done what you are supposed to be doing"

You sat back down again, letting out a deep sigh as I stood up, putting my papers together.  At that moment you seemed so small, so delicate, so needing and wanting.  And as I began to walk around the table towards the door to send you on your way, I reached up, touched your face as your hand reached up to keep my hand attached to you.  

I looked down at you, knowing that inside you were crumbling, that all of the solid foundations that had been built since the last time were fast collapsing to the floor.  And while I couldn't do what you wanted. I could do what I wanted.

A short time later you were standing, adjusting your clothing, placing your now flaccid self back into your tight fitting boxers, pulling up your trousers that moments before had been round your ankles.  I on the other hand adjusted my skirt, straightening it, making sure that no-one would know that only moments before it had been hoisted around my waist while I rode your cock, tongues fucking each others mouths, hands twisted into fists of hair as a hunger was fed and sated. 

"So? Can you now?" you asked.

I shook my head.  "You know that I still can't"

You looked at me, long and hard, your eyes smiling.

"I've got work to do now, but we can try again after the weekend." I said as I moved towards the office door to usher you out, pulling you in for one last breathless kiss, moving your hand to my breast for one last torturous moment.  My hand reaching between your legs for one last lingering grope.

As the door opened and you stepped outside, another colleague was waiting to come in, I knew you couldn't say what you wanted.

"We will attempt it again after the weekend.  The more we try, the more chance there is of getting it right".

You looked at me before walking away.

"Come in . . ." I said

Promptly ushering the person who had been waiting outside in

"I understand we have to go over that case work again . . . .that it wasn't quite right the last time"

Taking it all

I sat on the edge of the bed and you knelt on the floor before me, your head lowered.  If your eyes had been open you would have only seen my naked legs and the floor before you.  You are breathing deeply, slowly.

I bring your face up to look at me, looking deep into your eyes.

I watch you for the longest of moments, I can tell that you have so many thoughts running through your mind.  You're on edge. Nervous. Scared.  I touch your face gently, my finger tracing the outline of your face, your cheeks and chin.

I kiss you gently.

You feel my fingers playing with and running through your hair, it makes you shiver, it makes you relax and pushes you into the deepest of spaces.  Your eyes drop, you lower your head and I lift your chin with my hand bringing your eyes up to meet my own.

I can see the fear in your eyes, the fear mixed with the look which says "I trust you" regardless of how filled with fear that you are.

I smile at you.

Reassuring you that you are in safe hands, gently stoking your cheek as you lean into my hand to gain a swift moment of comfort, your eyes closing slightly as you breath in deeply all of the feelings that come from the slightest of touch. And I feel you relax into my hand, lapping up its touch against your flushed face.

I continue to look into your eyes, not breaking the gaze, undressing you slowly, until you are naked before me.  I am still watching you intently until your eyes break away and look down.  I lift your chin again with a little more force and instruct you to keep it there.  I push my forefinger in between your lips, forcing them apart, your mouth opens for me, like a baby bird receiving the food from its mother. Your tongue gently circling the finger that is in your mouth

I know that you are ready, instructing you to open your mouth wider and to close your eyes.  I see the fear growing deep within them as I push you back a little, then step up and move gently away.  You close your eyes, your mouth is still wide open.  I see you moving your tongue, swallowing trying to wet the dryness of your mouth.

The door opens and he steps forward, walking into the room until he is standing before you.  You feel his cock at your lips and I see you recoil at this unknown and unwanted intrusion, my hand reaches around your head holding you still, making sure that you do not pull away from him, or from me.  I push you forward onto the length of his cock, it slowly glides into your mouth and into the back of your throat.  

You gag, cough and splutter and he withdraws a little so you can catch your breath.  My hand grips your head, reaching into and taking a fistful of your hair.  I push your mouth back down the length of his cock, you close your lips around him, dropping your throat this time to take him further. You gently suck as he pulls back out and we all hear the deep moan that escapes from your throat as I grip your hair more tightly and as you eagerly, hungrily take his cock back into your mouth.  

His cock is hard, thick and throbbing in your mouth,  your own is beginning to harden at the intrusion into your mouth. I can tell from the expression upon your face that you have tasted the precum leaking from his cock, the first time you have tasted anothers.

My hand keeps your head still as he pumps his cock harder and deeper into your mouth.  You are gagging and choking, tears forming at the corner of your eyes and running down your cheeks. I wipe them away with my other hand as he continues to fuck your mouth.  The movement speeding up, you adjust your head to allow his cock further into your throat, lessening the grip your lips have around him, allowing him in, harder and deeper. And he is speeding up. And you are taking it like a whore.  And your cock is aching and you are moaning between the choking, heaving and gagging. And I see the lust within your eyes, the longing, the pleading, and I know that you are here taking this for me, and it goes straight to my cunt.  And I am aching and longing, watching you loving the thing that you're hating, that you're loving it and taking it just for me.

And I encourage you gently, the cock whore that you are. And your eyes are glazed, glazed with desire and lust and longing.  And he is fucking your mouth and your throat and I am pushing your head further down onto him, his balls banging against your chin. 

And just when you think you're going to choke to death, you feel the warmth of his cum shoot down the back of your throat and you are gagging fiercely at the shock of the liquid.  

"Swallow it all" I whisper in your ear. "Swallow it all like the cock hungry whore that you are!" and you are milking him with your mouth, devouring him, taking him and his load into your mouth and down your throat.

And he pulls out from your mouth, your eyes moving up to meet my own, I look at you and smile, leaning forward I whisper gently in your ear "There's a good boy" and a smile spreads over your face as he pushes his cock back into your mouth as you're told to clean him up properly.  Sucking out every last drop.

"You enjoyed that didn't you?" I ask.

You nod, slowly.

Your face reddening from the humiliation that you're feeling at having sucked another mans cock.  Ashamed that you took him in your mouth, sucking him, milking him with your mouth, ashamed that your own hard cock betrayed the desire that you felt about something that you recoiled for only a moment before.

He steps back away from you and I stand before you, raising your chin up with my hand once more.  I look into your eyes, conveying how pleased I am with what you have just done for me, what you have taken for me.

"I . . .I.  ..thank you, for allowing me to be your whore" you manage to whisper.

I smile.

"Is there something else that I may do for you?" you ask smiling back.

"Maybe JoJo.Maybe"

Except we didn't . .

I dreamt about you last night.  Yes you!

I dreamt that you and I fucked.

A dream, that felt so real it could quite easily have been a memory of the reality rather than a dream of an illusion.  When I woke I really had to stop and work out whether it was a dream, reality or an illusion. 

I was aroused.  I was wet.

I dreamt that you and I fucked.

We were there. You know the place we always liked to be.  The place we have been so many times before.

Except we weren't.

You kissed me. Deeply. Passionately. Hard.

Except you didn't. 

I pulled you closer, and I remember so clearly the way that you touched me. I remember so vividly the feeling of your hand in between my legs as I orgasmed over your fingers, watching your face as you licked each finger clean. 

I remember every feeling, every moan, every escaped breath. 

You were wearing black.  And blue.   I said how apt as I wanted to mark you black and blue.  I removed your clothes, forced your head between my thighs as I melted into that most wonderful moment as your tongue plunged deep inside me.

Except it didn't.

The orgasm you brought me to when your fingers plunged into my ass.  The wetness glistening over your face as you looked up at me. 

Except it wasn't.

And I asked you to fuck me. 

Just in the way we had always enjoyed fucking. Fast, Hard. Deep. And I felt it. I felt you. And I orgasmed as you came inside me.

Except you didn't. 

But I dreamt of you last night.  You fucked me. 

And it was just how I always remembered.

Except JoJo. This time we didn't.

Ruined

My tongue leaves a trail of dampness as it explores
you.  As it makes its way from your ear lobes and down
the side of your neck.  You flinch. I pause. If only for a
moment to whisper in your ear. Your skin tingles as the cool air
hits the dampness on your warming skin.  Your eyes remain
hidden behind a blanket of silk.  You shiver.  Shudder almost as
the tip of my tongue slowly moves down you.  Flicking over your 
chin, your neck, down to your naked chest.  I tease your
nipples, gently caressing them as they harden beneath the
administrations of my tongue. Before I suck. Before I bite. You
groan from within, moaning. Your breathing heavy as you
encourage through your exhales for me to continue.  I move further
down across your stomach, down your sides to your hip bone and you
shiver with the teasing that leaves you squirming, trying to
guide me to the place that you want me to be. Yet I tease you
purposefully. Circling around you, going anywhere but the place
that you long for my tongue to make contact with.  I move further
down, you move away, move toward me. I tease you purposefully.
Circling around, the tip of my tongue teasing, Your body rising
from the bed where you are restrained at wrists and ankles.  Your
body burning. Burning with need. Desire. My tongue is damp, warm,
moist against your skin. You long for it to touch you, to tease
your hardened sex.  The muscles tighten in your thighs, your toes curling. Every movement of your body is felt.  My nails carve into
your skin, leaving a reddening mark as they follow the trail of my
tongue. The feeling from the dampness of my tongue, against the
harshness of my nails confusing your mind, your body.  My
tongue is sucking and nibbling, swirling around over your skin;
over your body. Your back arching. Your muscles tense. Your
breathing deep and heavy as my tongue circles around the hardness
of your cock, the fullness of your balls.  My fingers teasing as they
find the entrance to your ass.  You are almost inviting me in, begging
me to take you in my mouth. To push my fingers in deeper.  And
just as I do, you start to cum. You are begging for me to touch
you, to help you on your way. Except I stop. Watching the
frustrations that scream through your body.  The lack of
stimulation. The lack of pleasure. It is ruined.

A walk in the park

It is late. 

We left the party a short time ago, much later than planned. But we had been enjoying ourselves.  I had been teasing you relentlessly all evening.  The occasional whisper in your ear of what I was going to do to you when we finally made it home.

I could see the tricks your mind was playing on you. 

The fear of the unknown.

The arousal that this fear and these thoughts brought to your body; to your cock.  There was no hiding it.  And I would smile at your arousal, you would blush at the humiliation.

The streets are quiet and we walk home together, the only sound being our breathing, and footsteps upon the pavement, the heels of my boots, the sound of your shoes.  And even though it is the very late hours of the night, we take a short cut through the park.

"Come on, we will be fine. I will look after you" I say mockingly when he protests that it isn't safe to be walking through the park at this time of the night. 

"Isn't it I, who should be taking care of you?" he asks in return. 

I simply smile at him.

"Nothing is going to happen to me while I walk through the park.  However . . .who knows what will happen to you?" I laugh dismissively at him. Walking on ahead of him, as his mind plays scene after scene of all the things that could happen in the next 10 minutes from the tiniest of seeds I have just planted within his mind.

I want to hurt him. 

The beast has been prowling all night, it is desperate for escape.  I want to tease him, hurt him, mark him.  I want to hear him pleading and begging for me to stop as I scratch, twist, slap him.  Which makes me only want to hurt him all the more, just as his hesitancy right now makes me want to hurt him and I have to stop myself from doing so right there. 

I leave him standing there as I walk on ahead of him, my feet are now aching and tired.  I am needing a drink and am feeling aroused at being out in the open air.  There is something about being out in the open, the feel of the air against skin, the danger of being seen and found.  My mind drifts to thoughts of the last time we were in this park. Walking through I had sat on the bench, him kneeling between my legs, his face buried between my thighs as he brought me to an orgasm with his tonguue.  I had then made him walk the rest of the way home with my juices all over his face.  He hadn't been able to look up at anyone all of the way home for fear that someone would know what he had just done.

I smile at the memory of his humiliation.  My body reacting to the memory of the wonderful orgasm that he had brought me.  

"Will you hurry up!" I say to him, as he increases the pace of his walk to catch up. 

He seems on edge. Nervous somehow.  He looks around, not really being able to see anything in the darkness of the unlit park, but looking around anyway as if someone is going to jump out at us at any time. 

A short distance later, in the middle of the dark park, I sit down on the same bench we had before. I tell him that my feet are aching, that I need to remove my boots and that I will walk the rest of the way bare foot.  

He stands before me, and just as he leans down to unzip my boots the back of my hand comes swiftly across his face, knocking him off balance and onto the ground. 

He is stunned, shocked by the force of the slap, the few drinks he had earlier at the party rushing straight to his brain, his eyes have glazed over as I know that it hit his submissive psyche with the same force of contact that it made on his skin. 

Before he has time to recover, before he has any time to realise that we aren’t alone, that someone is behind him, grunting as they grab him by the hips and flip him over onto his stomach. He is still dazed from the slap across his face but realisation is starting to hit and he begins to lash out, trying to push this unknown person away.

He is struggling now.  Kicking. Lashing out. Trying to push him away.  He is shouting. Swearing.

A hand forces its way into his hair, pushing his face down hard into the dirt. 

He is beginning to plead now, begging to be let go, but instead he is forced further forward, a mouth full of dirt, he coughs and splutters up the bits of soil that found its way into his mouth.  

From his head, the hand slides down his back, pushing him down harder, pinning him between his shoulder blades. The other hand groping and finding their way in the dark to the top of his trousers.   

"Oh god. Please. No! Please stop!"  he begs. 

Hearing his begging; hearing his pleas goes straight to my cunt. 

But the stranger does not stop.

Instead he pulls them down harder, yanking the trousers down over his naked ass, catching them on his cock, which despite the pleas and the begging to stop is obviously aroused at the force in which he is being taken at that moment.

As the trousers reach his knees, he stops.  You are exposed.

“Please NO! No. No. . no . . .no . . . no . . .n . . . “ 

You realise you are fighting a battle that you can only lose.  You hear the stranger unzip his trousers and feel the hardness of his cock against your naked, exposed ass.  You are crying now. Slow tears beginning to fall into body wrenching sobs.

“Please don’t hurt us” 

You are pleading. 

You have no idea that I am still sat on the bench watching you.  Watching him hurting you.  I make no noise. No sound. No movement. 

Instead you begin to scream as you feel the head of his cock at the entrance to your ass.  And you scream louder still as you feel him force himself inside you.  He grunts and moans with each thrust, groping at your body, scratching you, hurting you. All of the things that I have been wanting to do to you all evening.

Your screams have turned into moans and groans. 

Moans and groans which turn into a state of arousal despite that you are there in the park, on your hands and knees being fucked in the ass by an unknown stranger. Your own cock is hard and protruding from your body.  Just as you begin to find your voice again, pleading with him to stop, he forces you down further into the ground.

He is fucking you.

Slapping you.

Hurting you.

With each thrust his grunts get louder, deeper, throatier.  You feel his body begin to spasm as you feel him come deep inside of you. 

“Noooooo . . .” you cry out “Please help  me, I am begging you to help me”

You are laid there, semi naked.

Your trousers still around your knees.  You are scared to move, scared of what may come next. Your body quivering.  You feel him move away from you as he pulls his cock from out of you.   And what seems like an eternity but is only a matter of seconds, you turn to look for me. Your mind trying to make sense of the invasion of your body. 

The stranger on the other hand, is stood in front of me. Where you had been only a short time before as you had bent to remove my boots.

I look at him.

Leaning into him as he embraces me.  My mouth making contact with his as I devour his mouth with my own.  His hands gripping my breast through the blouse I am wearing.

“I love you” he says.

I smile at him.

I look down where you are still exposed on the floor.

And then I smile at you.