Bringing The Coffee

Coffee Art by Thomas WanhoffShe decided to use her blog to vent about how frustrated she’d been feeling at the many missed opportunities for sexual play she’d been experiencing lately. As she banged out her thoughts she chastened herself. ‘This is too personal… I sound like a bitch… I’m going to get flack for this… No censoring!!’ She didn’t always paint the prettiest pictures with her blog posts, but they were honest, cathartic and (as she hoped others appreciated) infused with humour.

And rewarding… The next morning she received a message from an acquaintance. It had been some time since she last heard from him and it put a smile on her face.

“Read your latest blog. You sound as horny as hell. What has caused that?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I just am.. very, very. And a dry spell to boot. Not to mention free today,” she hinted.

“Shame you did not text me earlier. Going to work in half hour,” he teased.

“Hence the theme of my last blog post. I just can’t catch a break!” she joked.

The ice broken, he upped the anti. “Am in the mood for a slut who knows how to act like a complete whore and fuck slut.”

A flush of heat ran through her and she chuckled. Her spontaneous desire for his attention was ironic since one of the themes she’d touched on in her latest blog post was that of the crudity of how some men introduce themselves. Those same words from a stranger would have been an annoyance. From him they were fuel on the fire. “That’s funny,” she replied. “I’m in the mood for some more vicious sex. The kind where the gentleman just takes. Don’t ask me what I want – that’s what I want.”

“And that’s what I want. Don’t ask any fucking questions. Just fucking take you any way I fucking wish and how I wish. I have a sac of spunk to dump in your mouth.”

The idea of a purely carnal encounter was beyond tempting. And she knew just how to encourage his dominant nature. “Mmmm… you want to make me gag. I should wear the runny mascara then?”

“Be here in 15 mins and I will force my cock into your fucking mouth.” There it was: the order. And one this willingly submissive woman was thrilled to respond to.

She didn’t bother to dress up or make-up. In her lounge-about-the-house yoga pants and t-shirt, she grabbed her coat and keys and hopped in the car. As she drove, dodging traffic and pushing the speed limit in an effort to meet his time frame, she mused at her slutty behaviour. Here she was racing there just to be used, even though she knew there wouldn’t be enough time for much more than achieving satisfaction for him.

She whipped into the parking lot, landed in visitor parking and stepped out of the car. She took a breath to calm and steady herself and then headed for the foot path that led to his back door. Quietly she slid the patio door open, slipped in and turned to shut the door behind her. When she turned back he was there – tall, fierce and completely naked.

“Good morning,” he said and walked way from her. She followed him across the room to a couch and knelt at his feet as he took a seat. He leaned forward and with one hand grabbed a fist full of her hair, with the other, he yanked her top down to expose her breasts and pinched her right nipple hard. With a firm grip, he pulled her up towards him by her hair so that he could also establish ownership of her mouth with a kiss. Under his aggressive touch her sense of self dissolved, content in that moment to simply be his on-demand slut.

When it was obvious that she was enjoying this attention too much, he jerked her head back and shoved her down into his lap. With her face pressed to his groin, she obediently began to suck and lick at his scrotum and taint. Hauling her back up by the hair, he tipped his growing cock up and shoved it into her eager mouth. At first she enjoyed how easily she could engulf him, pressing her nose against his pelvis and still being able to tickling his sac with her tongue, but soon his growing menber became too much. Tightening his grip in her hair, he forced her head up and down his length.

The pain radiating from her scalp made her eyes water and she fought hard not to clench her teeth. She finally had to pull away. “Ouch!” She flashed him a brief glare to let him know that was enough and then went back to servicing him with her mouth. He firmly reclaimed her mane, but with slightly less cruelty.

“Spit on it,” he growled and held her head firmly just above his cock so that he could watch. She let a shiny stream of saliva trickle over him and then used her hands to slide an even coat of wetness over him.

He shoved her down forcefully again. With her hands out of the way, she allowed him into her throat until she ran out of air. She started to choke and sputtered noisily over his cock. Still he held her down until her shoulders started to heave – only then did he let her up. Gasping for breath, she yanked herself away and smiled wickedly up at him, challenging him to go again.

“Ready for a mouth full of spunk?” he asked.

Her eyes widened as she obediently looked up at him and opened her mouth to receive. Once more he jerked her head down over his swollen cock. She felt his hips buck, his penis flex and her mouth fill, overflowing with his seed. She was forced to gulp quickly to avoid choking as he pushed her all the way down again, pressing himself deep one last time. With his needs met, he released his grip on her, dropped his hands and relaxed back into the couch with a sigh.

To show her appreciation for this reckless, a.m. indulgence she continued to lick him clean, gently stroking his retracting flesh.

She wasn’t the only one feeling appreciative. When she reached up for a simple good-bye kiss he pulled her close for more. Rising up from the floor, she braced herself with a knee on the couch beside him. Straddling one of his legs and leaning against his chest, they kissed more deeply, sharing his flavour. His knee leapt up between her legs and the abrupt contact against her sensitive, neglected pussy caused her to grind back involuntarily. He could feel her heat and soft unconfined folds through the light fabric of her pants and he exhaled approvingly at her lack of underwear.

Suddenly and unexpectedly she was being treated to a pony ride, him bouncing her up and down and her rocking back to press hard against his knee. Giving in completely to the primal urgency, it only took a moment for her own release to take her over. Trembling, she collapsed against him.

“Whew! Thank you,” she sighed. “That was fun.” She climbed off his lap knowing that he was pressed for time.

“Now I’ll be able to concentrate on the job. Thanks for bringing coffee.”

She chuckled, amused as much at his euphemism as she was at the way they so easily slipped back into their polite, somewhat aloof public personas. “You have my number,” she winked, hinting that they should do this again… better sooner than later.

Focus on Fellatio

“And you have mine,” he agreed.

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