penis in vagina sex

Friday Femdom Fiction: Experimental Purple Prose

by

Naked.

She pulled him hard, by a handful of hair at the back of his head, a rough yank to expose his mouth for the kiss, and her lips met his, tongue fencing tip of tongue, the same tongue that talked with sweet and sharp word and found the fountain spigot that set her cunt trickling clear and sticky. Here, now, she found his cock, and her grip cradled, clenched and pulled back and forth that the middle, just below the too sensitive head, but above the balls beneath.

Unbroken by the challenge she made, he took her by the shoulders and shoved, back onto the soft bed. His own hands found her slit, with the pads of his fingers crooked to tease and test the wet state. Fitting them inside her, and then into the mouth that had just stolen a kiss from him. Grazing her lips, then, with a glaze of her own other lips and meeting the gaze of her eyes until her frustrations and the promise of what she might do to him forced him to look away, fearing now, and feeling the rake of her nails on his broad back.

“I want this,” she hissed, finding his prick and replacing her hand, using it as if it were the lever and the bed they rolled upon was the fulcrum; the fixed point by which she could move the world. Or at least seek to make him move to her whims as she made what was erect in her grip plug the wetness that continued between her legs.

Guttural breathing, him on top, her parting herself, kissing. They fucked like snakes, more twined together, bending and wriggling, than slammed mammals. Her curved body soft at the places she swelled, but hard where bone made delicate looking hollows; him sinewy, long and lean, her legs wrapped to keep him in place and him sliding, belly to belly, back and forth. She engulfed, pleasured and trapped him twice, inside and out.

“More, more, more!” She always wanted more, whether she swallowed him into her slick gullet, teeth coyly sheathed; wrapped him in slippery hands until his semen spurt brought him back from demanding a double grip to hiding, shrunken in one hand; or like now, where her cunt muscles devoured. Her hips tilted up, lunging, her hands finding light ways to hurt and leverage to take what she wanted.

The same fingers that had probed her cunt were now tamed into helping bring about a body spasm that started inside her, shrill calling, her cunt becoming more intimately aware of the part of him it had borrowed and was using. She wanted him to stay hilted until the last shudder finished, taking in a suck of air between her teeth as the energy of her excitation defused.

And then his face was turned away from hers again, into the pillow, two exhalations and then a male cry, matched with a final surrender as he stopped pulling back, away and accepted he was helpless to hold off coming. She never felt the splash of semen at the moment, just the aftershocks that shook him gently in her arms as she held him to her, and then the seep as he stayed buried.

—

I wanted to get back to the spirit of Friday Femdom Fiction, which was supposed to be more spontaneous and less polished. So you’re getting something experimental this time.

The Choke Point & My Cunt, His Cock

by

It’s always tight, when the tip of his cock slides into me. My cunt has a choke point, starting sex, like I was some sort of customize part of the Fleshlight or Tenga product line. It’s not something you get to see in sex diagrams- the kind with simplified, labelled anatomy, where you get to see a split view of a pelvis and the vagina is a lightly bumpy tube sandwiched between other less savoury tubing.

He, Wildcard, says I’m often gripping to the point of discomfort, at first, which makes me shy even though he’s not actually complaining. Sometimes, when he’s inside me, most often when he’s come, I bring the muscles within myself together, like I’m blinking. I feel him, like wrapping my hand around a rod- he takes a long time to soften after coming, and I can keep grabbing it- clench-clench.

It’s harder to grab on while he’s fucking me. Mostly I end up on top of him, but on top of me, he favours a steady, dragging stroke, almost a pulling rather than a burrowing thrust. I really like it, feeling a sort of double wrapping effect- he fills me up, and then his slimness fits neatly between my thighs.

I like cunt and cock as a matching set of words- ‘pussy’ sounds less active, ‘dick’, juvenile. Vagina will always be the internal channel to me, penis will be a bit too clinical for exclusive use in the erotic.

If this were a femdom porn, I’d have it locked in a little chastity cage and he’d be eternally between my legs in ‘worship’ with a tongue, when it when  I wasn’t telling him he wasn’t man enough to be inside me because of his size. But it’s not- I like to control how he comes just fine, but I adore more than just forcing him not to. I want him to explore and play with.

So, I cuff him to the bed to keep those long arms out of the way, and toy with him. Fingers make for fun, curled in come-hither teasing under the head of his cock, or wrapped lower down on the shaft to stroke and squeeze like a sheath- I don’t have to grip hard to feel him swell. Slippery, slick lube makes everything slide easy, cold on my palm but quickly warming. Or there’s the trick of pressing the head of a hitachi firmly against the shaft of his cock until it forces a wellspring of white cum from him.

Sometimes I like to lap with the tip of my tongue, along the ridge of his cock head, tasting him, looking for those first few drops of clear pre-cum. Full swollen, he’s almost aggressively thick looking, hard to swallow, but all the more enticing, perhaps because of it. And yet, it really doesn’t matter how slippery I make him, or my own cunt’s gush of anticipation- I know that I’ll feel him.

It’s his particular virtue to be able to get my attention from start to finish. From the first chokepoint, to when my body has milked him past tumescence, I even feel his withdrawal. And it is, to say the least, pleasing.