Movie Night

A warm tangle of bodies, heat and scent and skin stroking skin until I am drowning in this heavy pool of pleasure which is centered on my guest bed. Her soft breasts against my cheek, teeth in my lip, his warm hands kneading my skin until I am moaning, whimpering, my body arching into theirs.

Her strong hands kneading knots from my shoulders, my neck, slowly encircling my throat and this is not her intention but I am slipping down the rabbit hole into the warm center of my own desire and submission. I already wanted to please her, but now the last button to my willingness has been pressed by her thumb against my larynx.

When her teeth find my lip again, it is enough to send me writhing and whimpering against her, his teeth on my breast clenching my hands helplessly against his back.

I know on some vague level I should be reciprocating more, know that she loves to receive the same small bites which I do, but every movement feels like swimming through warm, sticky arousal-honey and I can barely move except to press closer into his hands, harder into her teeth and I am drowning pleasantly in the love and affection of these two people whom I have come to love intensely.

I do not know if either realizes how deeply down the rabbit hole I have slipped, how warm and hazy my mind feels until I am nothing but a body of sensations and desires and willingness. I do not know if either realizes how much I crave now the sensation of teeth sinking into my skin, of hands tightening painfully on my body, of fingers wrapping around my throat and squeezing, but this is not what they give tonight and the same corner of my mind which craves more also accepts that.

When his mouth finds my breast again, his teeth against my nipple, I can only arch harder into her mouth and moan in pleasure and desire and an inarticulate need to please. I want to slide to my knees from the bed, my mouth running slowly down her body, his hands anchoring me and holding me in place, and slowly find the soft center of her with questing lips and tongue until she screams and arches into me....

Gang rape

Standing, leaning against the wall with the others, watching her writhe, moan. Lewd comments spill from my lips in response to theirs, a growing, building web around her of ideas, expectations, fears, dreams…and soon, of actions.

My strap harness is tight around my hips, lacking only the weight of my cock but I can feel it in the back of my head and resting between my hips, guiding my more masculine stance against the wall, the objectification in my eyes, mocking arousal in my voice.

She is dragged to the room which we have prepared, whimpering, moaning, but not protesting once.

I am thankful for this, not sure that the cautious girl in my head could handle a true rape-scene just yet, and the boy in me is pressing the front of my face, shifting my expressions, ready to come out and to fuck this beautiful woman spread out before us like a banquet.

Only flashes now: pale skin kneeling before me, eager lips wrapped around my cock, soft baby-fine hair tangled in my fingers as I drag her along the length of me.

Dark skin against pale as she is slammed into, moved, a muffled scream of pleasure or pain but I don’t care right now and I doubt any of the others do, either.

My body angled against hers, and suddenly the boy is draining away and I am a woman about to fuck a woman and there is this moment of awkwardness, covered with dirty jokes as I learn the different angle necessary to fuck a woman rather than a man. A fumbling moment of strangeness, and then I am inside her. It doesn’t feel as natural as with a boy, and I am thrown off, missing my rhythm but struggling to find it for her. The angle is strange, the shape of her beneath me different- beautiful, warm-smelling and soft but strange and new.

Later, later, after the kissing, the cuddling, and the low-level flow of love, the strongest thing that I remember is the sense of camaraderie in the room with this helpless girl stretched beneath us. We were there, together, toward a goal and the sense of mutuality and camaraderie is tangible… and, yes, it included even she, our willingly unwilling victim, and the bounty of riches which she offered to us.

Vignettes from NYE

• Watching a beautiful man rig gorgeous, mostly-naked women until they spin like multi-hued tops of red and gold hair and creamy skin while

• Snuggling on the couch in the lap of a lovely man who is playing with my mostly exposed breasts as a beautiful woman wraps herself around me and moans at the sensation of my fist clenched in her, long, silky hair.

• The sweating face of the same beautiful man, pressed into my thighs as he is paddled over and over by a group of women, tears springing to his lovely eyes as he presses his face into my bare skin, sucking in air noisily through parted lips.

• Warm hands running along my legs beneath the sarong, fingertips brushing my thighs and wrapping around my calves, cupping my buttocks and running warm palms along my skin.

• Much, much later, as the sun begins to creep along the horizon, the beautiful man and I curl exhaustedly into bed. I am expecting a little snuggling, a little groping, then an exhausted slumber, but I have underestimated my companion's stamina and soon we are kissing, groping and wrapped around one another. My hand is in his hair, on his throat and his hands are on my breasts, around my waist and opening my legs. His cock is pressed against me, thick and hard and throbbing and I crave the taste of it, the warmth of his lips against my wet cunt but I know that those things are not for me tonight. Instead I whisper in his ear, telling him what a little whore he is for me- that it isn't his cock in my cunt that he wants, but my fist in his ass. He is panting and whimpering in my ear, begging for the taste of my arousal on his lips until I take my liberally soaked fingers and paint them across his parted lips, rubbing my heated body against his.

• Later that morning, as the sun peeks through the windows like a voyeuristic eye, I wake snuggled between my pretty man and a beautiful woman whose name I don't even know. I don't remember how it happened to be honest, I don't remember the flirting, the giggling, the making out as I was still in an exhausted, sensitized haze. What I remember is the touch of her fingers on my skin, the stroke of her lips against my heated cunt, the taste of her lips against mine, painted with cum. What I remember are her hands, cocoa against the cream of my thighs and the smug grin on her face as I writhed beneath her expert touch. What I remember is the sight of her straddling my chest, the taste of her nipples and the texture of her cunt as I stroked her to orgasm for the 3rd or 4th time.

The hugs goodbye later, the gratuitous groping, and nap snuggled between two extremely attractive men....

It was a lovely, lovely New Years Eve and New Years Day

A nice night's work

Jack's girl, post some of Tenderdom's BDSM waxplay candles: