Repost: Do[M]inating my queer married [F]riend

(Quick explanation: this is a repost of a story I put up last week. After initially posting it, I wondered–was it really okay that I had just posted a story about myself and a real person without getting her permission? How was that different from sharing nudes that someone had sent me without her permission? I decided to take it down, and seek out Ellen’s–not her real name, btw, in case that weren’t obvious–permission. Her response? Duh, of course you can post that story, it’s sexy as hell. She and “Sam” have read and approved and maybe had sex after reading it, so I guess we’re all in the clear. Enjoy!)

“Oh, god… Fuck…” Ellen moaned as I slid into her, her legs wrapped tight around my waist. She was soaking wet and her pussy felt like heaven as I sank into her. “So this is what a real cock feels like… Thank you, Daddy…”

I held her petite ass in both hands, slid myself out a few inches, and then drove back into her warm depths.

Let me back up.

I’m a graduate student at a major university on the east coast. A few years into my program of study, I reconnected with two old acquaintances from undergraduate, Sophie and Ellen. Ellen was in town for law school, and the two had recently married.

A few things had changed. Or, rather, one big thing: Sophie was now Sam. Sam and Ellen had grown up in the same small Minnesota town and enjoyed a relationship which they usually described as approaching being sisters, though at some point in their adolescence, it turned sexual and romantic.

Eventually, Sam came out as trans, changed his name, and began the medical transition process. I was surprised, but happy for them, as they gave me the five minute run down of everything that had happened since college. Sam had always had a tomboy side, so in retrospect, it made sense.

They knew relatively few people in the quiet college town whereas I, barfly that I am, knew many, and so we became close over the first year they were there, while I introduced them to my favorite spots.

I also found my attention increasingly drawn to Ellen. Standing all of five feet tall, and weighing maybe ninety-five pounds soaking wet, she could easily have been mistaken for a teenager instead of a woman of twenty-four. She had dark, auburn hair, closely cropped around her cute face. She was petite, whereas Sam was physically fairly large (and Sophia had been voluptuous, curvy), with A-cup breasts, and a tiny but plump ass. She was pale, descended from northern Minnesota white people—the whitest of white people—with blue eyes and a generous splash of freckles that extended from her cheeks down over her shoulders and upper chest and maybe other places—but that’s all I was privy to for the first year of our renewed acquaintance.

I went away for a summer to do research and when I came back, things were immediately different. The biggest change? Sam had gone off to a graduate program of his own, leaving Ellen alone for at least the next two years.

“It just sucks,” she sighed to me over drinks one evening. “I miss him so much. But this is definitely the best thing for him…”

I agreed, commiserating with her. What’s more, she told me, they had agreed to have an open marriage—at least for while they weren’t together.

“I mean, we’re both so young still. And we’ve been together for so long that it’s like… I don’t know. I love him, but sometimes I wonder what I’ve missed out on.”

“Like what?” I had to ask.

“I don’t know…” she murmured, giggling, unable to meet my gaze. Suddenly, I was aware of how close we were sitting, her bare leg pressed against mine.

“Like men? You’ve never been with a cis-man, right?”

Ellen shook her head.

“Never. It almost scares me… It’s just so weird.”

I laughed.

“As a cis-man, I don’t think it’s that weird.”

She nudged me, playfully. “Well, obviously. I don’t know—I just keep thinking about that story you told us.”

I wrinkled my brow.

“What story?”

“You had a fling with one of your students, didn’t you? And it got pretty kinky?”

Of course. One night, a few drinks in, I had told them about an ill-advised relationship I had with a student of mine—I was a teaching assistant for her freshman intro writing class. Something sparked between us. The week between the end of the semester and her leaving town for the summer, she practically lived at my apartment.

She also spent a lot of that week tied up, blindfolded, and gagging on my cock.

“The less that gets out, the better,” I muttered but Ellen wouldn’t have it.

“I don’t know. I think about it sometimes. Sam and I talked about doing something kinky like that but he’s just not dominant… Not like that. It feels forced.”

“Then maybe you need to find someone who can dominate you more… organically,” I said carefully.

Ellen bit her lip.

“But I’d want it to be someone I know and trust.”

I had gotten hard as soon as Ellen mentioned the open marriage, but now, I felt like I could positively lose control. But I kept it together.

“I could show you the ropes.”

“That is a lame ass pun,” Ellen burst out giggling. But her hand was on my thigh. I gently plucked it up and slid it over the bulge in my pants. She was red, but still smiling, starting to stroke me softly, gently.

I paid for our drinks and took her back to my place. In the stairwell, on the way up to my apartment, I began laying down ground rules.

“This is how we’ll do it—I’m going to be rough with you, but you’re still in charge. If you say ‘red light,’ I’ll stop. If you say ‘yellow light,’ I’ll slow down. And if I’m worried about you, I’ll ask ‘green light.’ Make sense?”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe we’re going to do this…” Ellen was giggling. I pressed her tiny body against the wall outside my apartment, claiming her sweet lips with mine. As we broke apart, she was grinning. Her lips all but begged for another kiss and so I tore into them again, kissing down her neck, sliding a hand between her legs and under her skirt.

“As soon as we get into my place, you’re mine. Do you understand?”

Ellen nodded, stifling a little moan as I ran my fingers over her cotton clad crotch.

“I have a weird request,” she said, as I unlocked the door.

“Shoot.”

“Can I call you ‘daddy’? Something about that—it’s so wrong but it does it for me…”

“Of course. From this point on, you’re my little girl.”

Giggling, Ellen stepped into my apartment and the real fun began. I took her by the hair, crushing her face to mine once more as I gripped her ass.

“Oh, daddy!” she whimpered. “You’re kissing so hard.”

“You looked like you needed it,” I shot back. “Take your dress off.”

She nodded and obediently stripped it off, tossing it to the floor. She wore virginal little cotton panties and no bra—with her barely A-cup tits, she didn’t need one.

“My little girl is so fucking pretty…” I whispered, pulling Ellen close as she giggled.

“You make me feel so little, daddy… I know I don’t really have boobies or a butt…”

“You’re perfect, baby girl,” I grunted as I kissed down over her neck, and onto her breasts, capturing her sweet little pink nipples in my teeth. She gasped, arching her back.

“Daddy, that hurts,” she gasped. I ignored her pleas, tugging at her nipple with my teeth while sliding a hand into her panties, finding a thick bush of auburn hair framing a sopping slit.

“Oh, god, daddy,” she squealed as I turned her around and bent her over.

“Daddy, what are you doing?” Ellen whispered. I felt her trembling in anticipation as I slid off my belt.

“You heard about me using this on someone else,” I growled. “But I think my little girl needs it on her ass.”

“Yes, daddy,” Ellen replied, obediently dropping her panties. In seconds, my belt was slicing into her pale ass cheeks. She squealed, and her cries grew louder and louder as I flogged her.

“Green light?” I asked, pausing for a second.

“Uh-huh,” Ellen gasped. “It’s good. Green light.”

Her ass was red and swollen by the time I dropped the belt and began to undo my pants. She flopped down on the couch, spreading her legs.

“Daddy… That got me really, really, really wet…”

“Good girl,” I whispered, taking my cock in my hand and guiding it into her as she wrapped her legs and arms around me.

“Daddy!” she gasped. “So this is what a real cock feels like… Thank you, Daddy…”

I began to slam into her, barely giving her a chance to get used to her cock. Her tiny body was so profoundly tight around me—she was easily the smallest person I’d ever fucked, and if she hadn’t been so wet, I’d have been afraid I would tear her apart.

I was getting close to cumming, but I had other plans about where this was going. I slid out of Ellen, disappeared into my bedroom for a second, and returned with a pair of handcuffs.

“Ooh,” she giggled as I took one of her tiny wrists and bound it to the other, behind her back. I forced her down to her knees, in front of my cock.

“You’ve never tasted cock before, have you, baby girl?”

She shook her head.

“But you’re going to suck daddy’s cock nice and hard.”

“Yes, daddy.”

Opening her mouth wide, Ellen lowered her pretty face onto my shaft. I held her hard by the hair, gripping her scalp as I began to fuck her face. Her big, gorgeous eyes filled with tears as I forced myself down her throat, before sliding out to allow her to gasp.

“Green light,” she sputtered before I could even ask.

“Perfect. How does daddy’s cock taste? Do you like tasting yourself on me?”

“Yes, daddy, I do,” she gasped before my cock disappeared once more into her lips. Her awkward, unpracticed mouth brought me to orgasm before I knew what was happening and in a few moments, I was filling her mouth with my cum.

Ellen gagged, my cum dribbling out of her mouth as I slid out of her pink lips. She was practically panting, tears and cum smeared on her face.

“You’ve done a great job, baby girl,” I pronounced. I pushed her back onto the couch and spread her legs. I knelt between her and began to nibble up her soft, pale inner thighs.

“And my baby girl looks and smells so tasty down here…”

“Oh, fuck, daddy… Please… I’m so wet and you already fucked me so hard…”

I licked my way up her thighs, easily holding her legs apart as she squirmed and savoring her scent. Finally, I dipped my tongue into her slit. She gasped as I began to lick her, all but inhaling her juices and lashing her clit with my tongue.

I’m positive I couldn’t do this as well as Ellen’s usual partner, but I must have done well enough—it seemed like she was cumming within thirty seconds, writhing and struggling beneath me, moaning shamelessly.

I took her a few more times that night. She slept over and I fucked her once more before sending her off to class in the morning. We kept it up for a few months, until she informed me that she and Sam had decided to kill off the open marriage idea. I was disappointed—tying Ellen up and pounding her ruthlessly had become my favorite weekly ritual—but I couldn’t argue with them, of course.

Now, whenever I see them together—on facebook, usually, though occasionally in person—I can’t help but see Ellen on her knees, her mouth wrapped around my cock…

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6gl3iw/repost_dominating_my_queer_married_friend

1 comment

Comments are closed.