I was her summer subletter. Here’s how she became my cumslut sub. Part II. [MF] [Long]

I intended to recount the whole of this story in a single post, but my tendency to sort of savor the details got the better of me. As it seems like a decently sized handful of you were into either my story, my style, or both, I thought I’d drop part two. (I’ve had a ton of fun writing this all out and reliving it, by the way — it’s something I’ve been wanting to share with an audience for a while, so it’s really exciting to finally air it all out.)

Here’s [part one](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8pyb8f/i_was_her_summer_subletter_heres_how_she_became/). It’s honestly *highly* recommended you check it out prior to reading part two, as this thing heavily relies on buildup and the accumulation of details. If you stick with me all the way, I promise you won’t be disappointed. All the establishing details are in part one, but still, a little synopsis: two years ago I sublet a room for the summer, sharing an apartment with Lauren, a recent college grad whose boyfriend and roommate had gone cross-country for work, and whose other roommate had crossed the Atlantic for some European backpacking, etc. After a month of an utterly polite, innocent roommate relationship between Lauren and I, things began to simmer somewhat. One night in the middle of July, we cracked, and things got quite interesting — and unexpectedly rough.

All of what follows is strictly true, even though specific bits such as dialogue and particulars such as where I placed my hand when, etc., are obviously approximated. I kept a journal during this time, and sure, it was unforgettable in its own way, but it was still two years ago.

On with it, then.

So, after returning home from the party and having an explosive half hour or so in the living room, we both kind of wordlessly slinked off to bed. As she was walking off — completely naked, her cut-off shorts, thong, blouse, and bra strewn across the couch and floor — I gently grabbed her from behind and, just as I did in the bathroom no more than a couple of hours prior (she responded fantastically to it, after all), I wrapped my right hand around her throat, planting a few long, ravenous kisses on the spot where her shoulder met her neck, while I brought my left hand around her and smeared circles on her clit, the area around which still slick and sticky with my cum, prompting her to sort of bite her lip and coo. I withdrew my hands and gave her one last hard smack on the ass. She met my blow by shooting me a sidelong look out of the corner of her eye, a giggle, and a devilish grin.

(As I mention in part one, she was in a serious longterm relationship with the guy I was essentially subletting for, and even though she let me have my way with her mouth, and allowed me to eat her out from behind, among other things, “actual sex” was off the table, per her asking, so I teasingly shot my load on her pussy [she was on BC]. While she probably wiped her cunt clean with tissue or towel, I remember she didn’t shower that night, as we were both pretty beat. I found that incredibly hot in a weird way — her wearing the remnants of another guy’s cum on her mound overnight, her most intimate place, her milky, slightly olive skin and perfect, tight, pink little pussy caked, at least somewhat, with my seed…)

The very next day was quiet. She went off to work before I awoke, while I spent the day at home. I was freelancing and working remotely that summer, and so mostly worked in either my bedroom or on the living room couch. That day, though, I mostly stuck to my room, as our smells from the night before seemed to linger in the common space — the material traces (a splotch or two on the couch, her clothes which she hadn’t yet picked up) of our unexpected, sordid, energetic little session struck me as almost surreal.

I’ve played dom in the past, and deeply enjoy it, but am generally really respectful, and tend to err on the side of caution when I’m unsure if a partner wants *it* a particular kind of way (of course, when communication is established, or when a series of unambiguous tells is conveyed, I can take things to a fairly rough place). And, living with her these past six or seven weeks, my caution was only doubled, given that she was in a longterm relationship and I take no joy in home-wrecking. If I felt weird, worried, or even slightly regretful that afternoon alone in the house, then, it wasn’t because she didn’t give me every indication to do what I ultimately did the night before, it’s moreso that I’ve never had something ramp up that furiously and with such intensity, the floodgates bursting open in a matter of minutes. Our quiet, polite non-relationship — two twenty-somethings amicably living out a summer, trying to make the best of living with a stranger in one another — turned into full-on face-fucking in the littered bathroom at a college party we both knew nearly no one at. It just seemed so sudden. And suddenly not seeing or hearing from her gave me an uneasy feeling.

Moreover, despite the fact that she was smart, mature, quick-witted, generally really on top of things, as well as extremely sexy in her own now quiet and reserved, now bubbly sort of way, I got the unmistakable sense that she was new, *really* new to this speed of sex. And yet she was enthusiastically but still sort of awkwardly surrendering herself, giving in to something that had she’d never quite experienced before, while simultaneously allowing a piece of herself, dormant until last night, to really come out and smell the air (not to mention, kind of discovering she either had no gag reflex, or had quite the talent for taking dick — something that, as I mentioned in part one, was vaguely apparently from just looking at her, sizing up her mouth, and so on).

That night I had a previously scheduled dinner to see some people, and say goodbye to my good friend “Sam,” who was leaving town at the end of the month — this was the 22nd of July (only bringing up the particular date, specifically as it relates to Sam, because it’s not totally irrelevant going forward).

It was nice to distract myself with company, as I’d been pouring over the events of the night before all day long, and so found myself almost completely incapable of working.

My dinner petered out, and I went out to get a couple of drinks with Sam. We’re really quite close, and don’t hold much back from one another (and we’re particularly chatty about girls and sex). So I began telling Sam about everything. About how her boyfriend got her a dildo that was similarly sized as him (on the smaller side of available options, as she told me), which I thought was sort of unheard of (and he thought was sort of sexually controlling and weird). I told him about how she pounced on me in the bathroom at the party, how I sort of turned the tables, found her spot, made her orgasm relatively quickly with my hand, and used her mouth shortly after. I told Sam about her — her excellent mouth, soft supple lips, deft tongue, her vexing eyes — capable of projecting a kind of teasing quality simultaneous to shyness and lust — her incredible, nearly picture perfect ass, at once firm and bubbly in its proportion. Sam was smitten with jealousy that I’d been getting to “train” someone who sounded so ripe, so capable, inviting, playful, and fun, while also being virginal in a way — or at least not yet indoctrinated to the brand of sex he knew I was in the habit of getting up to. He started to offer all kinds of comments and suggestions — that I was a fool for not fucking her, going on to tell me how and when I should (hold her hair like this, stick your finger there, etc.).

I told him to slow the fuck down. And that it was equally as conceivable that her and I would continue our sordid little thing as it was that I’d have to begin looking for a new living situation the very next day. (Sam is a bit more aggressive up front than me. Over the years, knowing him from college — observing him, talking with him, as well as knowing the girls he’s been with — I’ve known him as someone who’s a bit of a talker, and pushier at the get go, but a little more vanilla than me when things actually get underway.)

_____________________________________

I got home a little before midnight. Lauren and I didn’t end up seeing each other at all that day. Not of itself out of the ordinary, but it didn’t make me feel good at all, given what had transpired between us.

The following day was a Saturday and, as the day progressed without sight of or word from her, I began to grow a little anxious. Holed up in her room, I could hear her face-timing with her boyfriend. Not fighting or anything too agitated, just talking. I heard her dart to the bathroom every now and then, but even by 5 PM, I’m not sure if I heard her go to the kitchen once.

By 5 PM, I was worried. I wasn’t about to barge into her room half naked or text her to “remove your clothes and wait for me, on your hands and knees, on the carpet on the living room floor.” She was a real person with real considerations and concerns, irregardless of the fact that I’d had my dick so far down her throat two nights ago that a good number of tears rolled down her cheeks.

Around 7 PM I got a text from her.

“Hey”

A minute later, another.

“We should probably talk”

When I read this I felt a pit in my stomach. My breathing quickened, my mouth went dry. A problem seemed to be on the horizon — best-case scenario, living out the rest of my sublet arrangement in utter awkwardness; worst-case scenario, having to look for another living arrangement altogether.

I reply “you’re right,” and that “whenever and wherever is fine by me.”

She didn’t reply for almost an hour after that, which didn’t sit too well with me.

I knocked on her door around dusk. “Come in,” I heard. I enter, finding her on her bed, wearing an oversized t-shirt, her smooth olive legs splayed out beneath her.

I’ll paraphrase this part because we talked for like an hour and a half.

The short of it (I hope) is this: she felt really bad about what happened between us two night ago, but not *really* really bad. Apparently, her boyfriend, who sounded kind of sketchy, tried to get with one of her friends when he was really drunk at a party after finals but before graduation, which led to a bad rift between them. She tried broaching the idea of a split, but he was pretty intent on working things out. She told me that, basically, their relationship was in a weird place, was sort of ambiguous. She was kind of pushing for a break of some kind for the duration of summer, and to see how things felt when they were reunited, whereas he was kind of pushy and adamant about trying to stick it out, without the break. As they’ve been together for quite some time, she caved and said okay.

She said that for this reason, it was almost less important that she’d kissed me or cradled my cock in her hands or even let it push up against the back of her throat, but the sheer fact that no one had ever treated her like I did before, no one had done those things to her, put her in a position like that, and feel *that way* before. She said that as rough as I was being that it felt less degrading than other times with guys, even if they were a lot less rough. She said no one’s spanked her ass till she felt pins and needles, while also making her feel so hot and leaving her wanting more, irregardless, almost, of the pain.

She said she wasn’t sure what she wanted. I told her I respected whatever decision she made, while also reminding her that I leave town at the end of August, and that if she was on the cusp of discovering new things about herself, and new ways of being intimate, it might not be the worst thing to see it through a little longer, so that it’s not something she’s left wondering about. And that if she’s already in a poor place with her guy, and wanted a break from him anyway (and even telling him so), getting some stuff out of her system might be the most effective route back to normalcy.

We sat in silence for a little, sitting on her bed.

All at once, she pushed me onto my back and let her hand rest on my cock a few seconds, massaging it until I was half hard, before removing a hair tie from her wrist and pulling her silken black hair up into a ponytail — as explicit an indication as any of what would be happening next.

She peeled both my sweatpants and boxer briefs off in one go, took my cock in her hand and, leaning over, brought her head down, kissing the top of my balls, near the base of my cock. She then planted her tongue at the bottom of the underside of my shaft there, and slowly dragged it up to the tip, which, as she reached the top, caused me to shiver slightly.

She took my head in her mouth and played with it with her tongue, strings of saliva dripping down my shaft from her lips, sealed, stretched around my shaft. She started to bob up and down, before popping up to say “you still can’t fuck me though, okay?” And proceeded to open wide, trying to take more of me in her mouth, struggling slightly.

After a few moments, her lips still on my cock, “treat me like you did last time,” she said in a slurred voice.

Without saying anything I get down off the bed and motion for her to fall before me on her knees. I take her head in my hands with force, and gently begin pushing her further and further down my cock. Every time she coughed, for the first minute or two, I move her head back to the tip. When I felt my cock was coated and slick enough, and her mouth was ready, I started to get into a rhythm, moving her back and forth, with my hands, while thrusting into her mouth with my hips. I hold her all the way down for a moment, filling her mouth completely, before letting go entirely, and her head bounces off my cock like a spring. I push her face into my balls, and murmur something about licking them, which she does, spreading her slut mouth all over them, while stroking my shaft with her hand.

Quickly, I motion for her to get on her hands and knees on the bed, with her brilliant ass poking out and perked up towards me. Hanging on the edge of the bed, I ran my hands up her thighs and over her cheeks, giving each cheek a tight, strong squeeze, before slipping my thumbs up and under the waistband of her panties, slowly peeling them downward, tugging them down to her knees. Mesmerized, inebriated, even, by the immediate rush of the fragrance let loose by her sweet naked cunt, I engulf her holes — messily and without much finesse — with my tongue’s embrace, moving up and down, coat her completely. “Fuck, you taste good,” I manage, as I spank my hand down on her ass. I continue as she wiggles her ass and hums and moans. I continue like this for some minutes, before beginning to finger her, slowly at first, but with quickening pace, as I licked her ass.

“Get that toy,” I say brusquely, as I step out of my sweatpants. She obeys, crawling over her bed to the bedside table to retrieve from a drawer the purple dildo her boyfriend had gotten her — definitely on the smaller side, for a dildo anyway. Maybe five inches and not what anyone would call thick.

“Is that like an ass dildo or something,” I say almost instinctively, with a tinge of unintended condescension, and not really considering whether or not “ass dildos” are a thing.

She laughs. “No.. I don’t know, maybe. Do you want it to be?”

“Have you used it like that?” I reply, still savoring her taste on my lips.

On her knees, staring at me, she removes her shirt, baring her cute little tits (B cup, I think, but nicely shaped, and with positively delicious looking pale ghost nipples). She puts the tip of the toy in her mouth and shakes her head no.

“Would you like to?” I ask, standing beside the bed, flashing her a bit of a grin, my cock rock hard, bouncing slightly with every little movement my body made.

The toy still slightly in her mouth, she shrugs her shoulders, looking coyly at me.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you? You really, really want to be fucked,” I say declaratively, staring at her as I begin to stroke myself slightly.

She briskly pops over across the bed towards me and sort of sits on the edge, giving her fingers a heavy lick, transferring her saliva onto the head of the toy, and slowly slides it in her already extremely wet pussy, as she grabs my cock and opens her mouth around it, letting out a low moan as she essentially sit onto the toy, letting its inches sink into her. I let her suck me at her own pace, allowing her to enjoy the sensation of having her pussy and mouth filled at the same time.

After a few minutes, she looks up at me, stroking still, and asks if I could put “just the head” in her — I was a good deal thicker than her toy, and warm, not made out of plastic, etc. I was honestly surprised she’d waited that long to ask. So I didn’t hesitate when she finally did.

She leaned back, her legs rising up above her, ultimately resting on my shoulders, as I smeared her clit a little with my thumb, and slowly introduced the head of my cock into her tight little cunt. She inhaled deeply, clasping shut her eyes as I did. “Just another inch or two — but no more, okay?” she managed. I abided, allowing myself to slip into her just a little further. At this point, I could feel myself stretching her — her pussy lips fastened tight around the upper portion of my shaft. “Fuck,” she muttered, eyes still closed tight.

I pulled out, suddenly. Her eyes open. “Taste yourself,” I tell her, practically ordering her. She looks at me for a second, sort of crooks her eyes, before smiling slyly, and brings her mouth back onto my cock, passionately licking me, one hand on my balls, the other working my shaft, her tongue massaging my head and the underside of my first few inches, licking up her fragrance, her stickiness, her taste.

“Okay, I’m sorry, just do it,” she says all at once, leaning back, her hand finding her clit as she stares at me, her eyes falling from my eyes down to my cock, bouncing, glistening before her, inches from her tight, warm, delicious, ever so needy little cunt.

I’ve gone on way too long. I fucked her that night. I fucked her softly, at first, as she slowly accommodated herself to my size. And then I fucked her hard, and fast, and then slowly, letting her feel all of my inches, letting her feel herself being stretched. I fucked her fast and hard, and then slow, as she was recovering from a thunderous, thigh-quivering orgasm, and then fast again, and so on. At one point I had the dildo in her ass while I was fucking her (I held the toy a few inches inside of her ass while I was fucking her from behind — not fully fucking her with the toy, though, as she was definitely not used to anything like that, and I think it wouldn’t have been pleasurable).

I pumped her pussy with my cum (she was on the pill, as I’ve said), my face inches from hers as I did so, kissing tenderly all the while. Afterwards, I told her to clean my cock with her mouth, something she got in the habit of doing nearly every time over the course of the next weeks.

And that was the first day we’d really settled into our dynamic. In short, I became her first dom.

We texted some while she was at work two days later, on Monday. She was wearing a dress of some kind (summer dress?); I instructed her to remove her panties a little after lunch, and put them in her bag for the rest of the day.

The next day, on Tuesday, I told her to remove her bra. She was wearing a t-shirt type of blouse, and they run the AC like mad in her office, so her nipples were standing at attention nearly all day long. She worked in a casual, creative environment, her coworkers mostly in their 20s and 30s — she said she caught the attention of quite of few of the guys, and even some girls. At around 4 PM she asked for permission to go to the bathroom stall to get herself off.

We didn’t do anything on Wednesday, and in fact stopped playing our games while she was at the office, as she found it a little too distracting to get any work done, and she’s a pretty professional, ambitious person, so it just didn’t really work out (she also didn’t want any weird office drama, etc.).

But I lit a hunger in her, for sure. She came home Wednesday wanting more. She missed being owned and ordered, she missed getting off, and she missed the rush. We concluded we were ready for a next step of sorts.

Thanks for reading. The next part will be the last – in many ways, it’s what drove me to decide and write this crazy thing out. I hope I’ve got your attention, as the next post will revolve around the bit that is probably my favorite part of this all.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8qkfkd/i_was_her_summer_subletter_heres_how_she_became