The first kinky sex I ever had was all talk.
Before any slapping, spanking, scratching, or biting, all my boundaries were verbal. Before I ever tied anyone up, choked them, or held them down while while fucking them up the ass, I whispered honest things in her ear as she did the same. Some of them blend together into memories that are only half formed, but there’s a string of words that planted the seeds.
First there was Kaity on my bed with her uniform skirt around her waist as she refused to be quiet. The window was open, my mother was gardening, and she begged me to fuck her with no volume control at all.
“She’s going to hear you,” I whispered.
“Good,” she moaned, “let her know you’re fucking me. I don’t care, just don’t stop.”
And then a year later I knelt on the floor while Stephanie talked to her ex on the phone. I ate her pussy and she stopped trying to pretend otherwise in the middle of the call. She came with him on the other end of the line, my tongue against her clit and my fingers inside her cunt.
It was Melissa who whispered, “I want to fuck your roommate” into my ear one morning when I was inside her, and I made her tell me about it in detail. When we came she was practically screaming his name, but we hadn’t once raised a finger. Without words we were simply two sweaty teenagers, fucking on a tiny dorm bed.
The fighting and bruising all came later. The belts, the cuffs, and the wax followed along, but it was always the words that hit me the hardest. Even years later, when Alison lay over my lap, her ass red from my hand, it was her words that made me hard.
“I promise I’ll do better,” she moaned, my fingers finally pushing into her wet cunt as I struggled not to come beneath her.
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“I want to spank you with your skirt still on.”
“But I haven’t done anything wrong.”
For some reason we had gotten in the habit of negotiating over dinner. Schiller’s was packed, and we had destroyed the tray of oysters in front of us, but we ordered a final round of drinks so we still had time.
“I don’t always spank you for being bad,” I said, swallowing the last Blue Point. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. Beneath the table I could see her bare thighs each time she shifted in her seat.
“I always pretend that I have, even if you don’t say it. It’s not always other boys or something like that. Sometimes it’s just that I’ve disappointed you. Those are the hardest times.”
“Hard in terms of how you come? Or how you struggle?” I didn’t look up when the waiter put down our manhattans.
“Both,” she said, finally breaking eye contact. “But, of course, how do I get punished if I don’t do the wrong thing? It’s a conundrum.”
I reached out and took a hand. I raised it to my lips and kissed her knuckles while lifting my drink with my other hand. She raised hers as well and we toasted silently, watching each other’s brains work.
“Take off whatever’s under that skirt,” I said. She wrinkled her nose, but didn’t pause. We both eyed the room as she lifted off her seat, just enough to slide her panties down and hand them to me beneath the table.
“If it makes you feel any better, I can always find something. No matter how hard you try, now matter how good you are, I’ll find a reason. And tonight I have at least six of them. Let’s finish our drinks and then go. I want you over my knee with that skirt around your waist.”
We stood up and gathered our coats, finishing our drinks in gulps that were way too big for anyone. Just as she tucked in her chair I leaned in and took her hand. She clutched the bundled ball of white cotton with a confused look.
“Leave them on the chair,” I said. “You’ve already disappointed me enough tonight.”
(If you enjoy my writing and would like to support the blog, you can buy my novel or one of my dirty e-books on Amazon here.)
“What do you want to do?” she whispered between kisses.
“I want to watch you undress,” I said, sure of my desire for the first time all evening. I set her down and sat on her bed, which was really just a thick mattress on the floor. I hardly noticed the rest of the room as she pulled off her light jacket. She was wearing a tank top and jeans, and her body swayed as if there was music. When she pulled off the her top – with her back to me – I suddenly realized she was naked beneath it. She turned to face me, her hands covering her breasts, and I stared at her with open awe.
The buttons of her jeans went slower, and she walked to me until she was only inches away. She pulled down the zipper and I could see a thin patch of brown hair beneath the denim.
“I fucking love Vassar,” I whispered.
She leaned forward and kissed me as her jeans came off, and when she stood up again she was completely naked in front of me. If I thought she was tiny with clothes on, this was something else. I had a moment of doubt wondering how old she actually was before she was on my lap pulling off my shirt, and I stopped caring about everything.
Kelly and I spent hours in bed that night. We licked, sucked, and fucked each other until the sun came up, and even then we had to tell ourselves that we needed to sleep. Each time one of us bit a little harder or kissed more gently the other was right there. If I held her arms above her head she moaned into my ear, and when she sank her teeth into my inner thigh with one hand wrapped around the base of my cock, I nearly screamed. When I was inside her the world vanished, and even when we waited for me to grow hard once more our bodies felt perfect.
We were far safer than Jane and I had been, and by the time morning came we had a garbage can full of used condoms, a beer bottle full of cigarette butts, and more than a few bruises covering our bodies. In spite of our scratching and pushing though, the sex was incredibly sweet. It was tender, powerful, and slow, and I fell in love over and over again.
When we finally fell asleep it was only after she managed to make me come one last time.
“You do like how tiny I am, don’t you,” she whispered, as she tried to get me hard.
“Of course,” I said, pushing her back and staring at her body.
“Do you want me to be your little girl?” she purred as she threw a leg over mine. Her cunt pressed into my thigh and somehow my cock twitched back awake. “You like that, don’t you? You want to fuck your little girl, I can feel it. How old do you want me to be?”
“I don’t even know how old you are,” I moaned as I rolled on top of her, my cock now hard against her stomach.
“I’ll be anything for you,” she whispered as she rolled our last condom down over me. “I’ll be as little as you like.”
And then I was inside her and she was kissing me. My eyes were open, amazed at the sight of her, and she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into her with everything she had.
“Fuck me,” she whispered, mumbling something else that I couldn’t make out.
“What did you say?” I asked, thrusting faster and harder.
“Fuck your little girl,” she moaned, and seconds later I was coming and so was she, bucking her hips off the ground as I thrust. Her face was against my neck and her breathing so loud it was musical. I kissed her everywhere as my body exploded, and I never wanted anything else ever again. I wanted to stay there, coming inside her, in spite of my utter exhaustion, but most of all I wanted it to always be perfect: sweet, hot, joyous, and easy.
-gny (from my new novel Disgusting, Beautiful, Immoral, which will be done one of these days.)
The February 9, 2014 Dirty Boys Reading is now available on iTunes. Recorded at the Magician in NYC. Check it out here!
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If you missed the show, you can hear it now! Check out the epic intro by Pirate Tom before the night disintegrated into filth. It was a good time.