Jealousy is a funny thing. I have a funny relationship with it.
Sometimes I get angry.
Sometimes I get…new lingerie. And fishnets, and a proper trench, and I wear those things on a flight as I close in to re-stake a claim. People stare—in the airport, on the plane, in the Lyft—wondering about the woman in a semi stripper costume out in public.
Yes, that’s right. This is exactly how I meant to look. I have something to attend to.
I lingered at the back of the plane, walking out dead last, both to tease out the suspense and also to ensure the fewest number of strangers would catch a glimpse of my ass cheeks in the higher-than-expected vent cut up the back of the coat. This was a variable for which I had not planned. The thigh-highs and heels were still my only choice for garments below the waist. Oh, and the tiny red thong, but really that was just because it matched the tiny red bra.
The potential for revealing my ass to the world in any slight breeze was not the major flaw in my plan. Wearing only a bra and thong under a coat on a cross-country flight and then sauntering over to that beautiful man waiting at the gate is almost only a hot, powerful experience.
But. I get nervous in the last moments of anticipation, and when I finally see him. I remember how his voice sounds and how his hands touch and the way his skin sends that electric jolt right through me. Fishnets, even with that pretty line running suggestively from my heels straight up to the delicate skin at the very tops of my legs, cannot overcome his hard stare straight through whatever I might be projecting via my appearance and directly into exactly what I most carnally want.
And that day, I wanted to fight. I wanted him to struggle. I wanted to blow into town dressed so overtly ready to be fucked, calculated and seductive and hot, the only obvious place he could possibly want to put his cock in a two thousand mile radius, this time rendering me powerful and him helpless.
Because I was in the driver’s seat on purpose, I dropped my ordinarily demure costume of pearls and button-downs for lipstick and lust and my bare skin against that coat lining. I strode out of the gate towards him in heels so that when I stopped just in front of him, instead of gazing up at him from my normal height, I could return his look levelly, and he could see that I was there not for wanting, but for taking.
I didn’t count on the nerves, though. I never do. And suddenly we were in a Lyft back to his hotel, and instead of straddling his lap and pulling his cock out of his pants as I’d planned, his hand was enjoying the easy access to my…everything. He made casual small talk with the driver, barely ever glancing to me, his fingers crawling over and inside my pussy as we drove in the dark and commented on recent weather patterns or whatever the fuck it was.
Inside the hotel room, I began to slide one shoe off. “No,” he said simply as he removed his own. “Leave those on.”
I stared back as I slowly put it back on. Hadn’t I meant to take control? Wasn’t there something I should do here?
“Now on your knees.”
What could I do? I was wet from the drive, from his fingers, from the hours on the plane, from everything about him. His command was casual, because he knew I would do it. I did, too. I wanted him and I couldn’t be bothered with anything other than the feeling of his cock in my mouth.
So instead of pushing him onto the bed and riding him in my slutty costume, I sank to my knees and inched my lips over his cock as far as I could take them, until I felt him press the back of my throat, and held him there until I needed to breathe again. I slid back slightly, enough to inhale, and I felt his hand on the back of my head, twisting his fingers into my hair and controlling my movement over his cock. Even here, on my knees, I wasn’t driving this thing. He was fucking my throat.
But I couldn’t hide that I liked it. I wanted him in my pussy, but here I could both feel how hard he was and taste him at the same time. I could hear him gasp when he made me gag, and feel the response in his cock as he got harder and bigger, and I actually whimpered when he pulled out and demanded that I stand up.
Slowly I rose. I made a motion to take off my shoes again, and he shook his head, pointing at the bed. “Lie down, face down.”
For some reason, either the shoes or the seriously submissive posture that would have been or the momentary not touching his cock, I remembered my personal agenda. “No.”
One of those dark eyebrows lifted slightly. I had initiated the game, or the dance, or whatever it was. But I was nervous. With intense feelings behind this exchange, the stakes seemed higher. He stepped closer, and I stood dead still. In a dangerously quiet voice, with just a touch of mocking, he asked, “No?”
I didn’t move. And then I didn’t have to, because he moved me. I was bent over the edge of the bed, my face pressed into the comforter, one of his hands between my shoulder blades and another reaching around and into the front of my coat, roughly pulling the cup of my bra aside and running his fingers over my boob, squeezing my nipple until I gasped, and then both hands slid the lengths of my struggling arms to pin them to my back.
He held my wrists with one hand, and then reached around the front of my coat again and untied the belt. But he didn’t rip the whole coat off, like I expected. I felt the fabric of the belt being wrapped around my wrists, then tied tightly, and then I was bound and his two hands were free to manage my ass and his cock. He pinned my legs against the bed with his knees, slid his hands over my ass to touch me and hold me still, his fingers easily pulled my thong to one side, and I felt his cock press up against my pussy. I arched my back, I tried to roll away, I attempted to kick, but he just pressed his hand into my shoulders again, pressed his knees harder into my legs, and pressed his cock deep into my pussy.
I shrieked in frustration and pleasure as I felt him slide into me, and he laughed. It was so easy for him to thrust in and out, even as I tensed every muscle in my body and tried to move away. It only pushed his cock deeper into me, and exhausted me in the process.
A few more thrusts, and then he pulled out, and with an arm under my torso and a knee between my thighs, he lifted me and slid me fully onto the bed. He pulled the coat down from over my shoulders, slid the thong down and got at least one leg out (I finally lost one shoe), and then used a knee to spread my legs farther apart. This time he slid his cock easily into my pussy with one forceful push. I was drenched. One hand reached around to slide a bra strap over my shoulder and pull the bra cup down to reveal a terribly vulnerable and sensitive nipple. But he barely focused on the nipple at first, instead gripping my boob until it hurt and I cried out and tried hard to pull away.
His other hand appeared at my neck, fingers wrapping around my throat and pressing into the sides with a dangerous firmness. I paused in my struggling, and he more freely fucked me while he held me by the throat and boob. Then I guess my bra was too much, and he stopped moving his cock inside me to unclasp it. I managed to get my hands free at this point, but all that did was allow him a chance to take my coat fully off. He pinned my hands above my head with one of his, slid his fingers back around my throat, and he fucked me harder.
Every movement I tried to make only pushed him into me deeper, and under the force of his cock and hands and weight, I moaned with pleasure.
At this, his grip loosened, and my hands and throat were free. He kissed the side of my head before he whispered in my ear, “You lose.”
He rolled off of me, and I flipped over, exhausted but full of need, and I reached around his shoulders as he shifted back on top of me, facing me now, and pushed back into me again. This time my hands were free, and I could feel his ass muscles clench under my fingers as he pushed into me, I could dig my nails into his back as I felt the pleasure mounting, I could stroke and pull on his hair as his tongue slid over mine into my mouth. I couldn’t get close enough. I couldn’t get him deep enough. His cock and his tongue were buried inside me, and I wanted more.
“Please,” I gasped. “I want to be on top. Please.” I pushed him a bit to move him off me, and he complied, because we weren’t playing that game anymore.
But the slight push I made on his shoulders to get him off and change our position was what I needed to remind me. Seeing him lying there, feeling how much I wanted him and seeing how much he wanted me, oh it triggered something carnal. I mounted him, sliding down onto his cock and slowly pressing my hands into his shoulders.
“You’re angry,” he commented, simply. I stared back at him, feeling the heat of his cock between my legs and the fire rising in me. I nodded.
“Show me,” he offered quietly. So I did.
I began to roll my hips from on top of him, grinding my pussy down as hard as I could and flooding with pleasure as I did. With each motion I pressed my clit against the top of his hard cock and simultaneously felt his hardness inside me. For a moment I reached behind me and pressed my hands into the tops of his thighs, arched backwards slightly both because it pressed his cock differently inside my pussy, and also so he could get a clearer view of me as rode him.
He was still becoming impossibly harder, and I could feel because the head of his cock began to hurt inside me. I pressed more deeply against him, wanting to feel him, and leaned over and bit his shoulder.
“Your cock is mine,” I hissed into his ear. “Your cum is mine.”
“Yes,” he whispered back as he pushed his hips up into me to meet my thrust. I slid my hands over his arms and into his, to pin him down and to lace my fingers with his, because I knew he was about to cum, and I knew I was too.
“I want your cum,” I breathed again into his ear. I felt my pussy beginning to spasm and explode around his cock as I verbally and physically demanded his cum, screaming and then saying and then whispering his name as he shuddered and came inside me.
I exhaled slowly, lying across him and between his arms, his cock and cum inside me as we both slipped into sleep, complete.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/87hnel/creative_use_of_a_trench_coat_belt_mf
That was incredibly hot!
Normally it’d be a detail I don’t need, but I’m kind of interested as to what backstory led to this great cross-country angerfuck.
Damn. This is something I will do when I get angry.