[FM] a story that I wrote last night at 4 AM. I belong to you.

Chapter one: The Bad

I would love to say this was a mistake. That I will do this one time, learn from this, and avoid putting myself in a situation like this in the future. But we both know that is the farthest thing from the truth. The truth is, when you call, I run. When you need something to use, I obey. And when you need to cum, my face is your box of tissues. It wasn’t always like this, when we started I felt empowered, envigorated, I felt like the strongest slut on the planet. And that word, Slut. When you called me it, I felt no shame. I felt power. I felt happy. I felt alive. I don’t know when that changed, but I know the power I once had is fading. It’s not gone, but what once made me feel intoxicated on the idea of relying on the potency of a wicked lifestyle for days at a time, now last just minutes.
But here I am, at your doorstep, wondering if I look good enough for you. Wondering if you will like what you see when you let me into your apartment. I’m scared that my real physical body won’t match your idealization of me. What you remember it being like, what you want it to be like, how you think a woman should look like; what if I am not good enough for you?. But you open the door and smile when I walk in. You do your little act you think you have to do before telling me what you want. You ask about my sister, my job, if I’ve given that “Power of You” podcast a listen yet. You try to fool me into thinking you care about me but we both know that you aren’t able to think like that. You do think that way for the most part, but there is a small part of you that just wants me to open my mouth and spread my legs and that’s why I’m here.

You’re impatient, you’re jittery, but more than anything else, you’re hard. I guess that outfit you told me to wear is really having an effect on you. I’m wearing a tight red skirt that ends almost six-fingers above my knee. We both know that my ass is hanging out of these and that’s exactly why you had me put it on. I have on a color-faded vintage jean jacket that I’ve had for years now and cute brown boots. I’m wearing nothing but a white push-up bra underneath the jacket. I hate these things, they’re wildly uncomfortable and they make my boobs look illegally big. I didn’t even own one of these until a few hours ago, but you demand, I buy. I’ll do whatever for you, and I live to show you that.

I open my jacket in the sunlight, and my pale skin shines a brand new never before seen shade of white. I call it, even too white for Starbucks. The color contrast looks good with my dark brown hair running down my body though. My figure is an hourglass and my body knows that it’s time. You walk over to me, place your cold rough right hand on against the freckles on my left cheek. You look into my emerald green eyes and tell me “It’s time for you to start living”. You’re right. You put your thumb in my mouth and pull me from the inside of my cheek towards the bed. You throw me so I crash onto your mattress on my side. It hurts my neck when you do that, but you couldn’t care less. You grab hold of my left shoulder and slam it down making me lie on my back. Your left-hand rubs up against my left thigh sliding closer and closer to my waste. You feel every goosebump and know for some fucked up reason, I want you. You rip off your shirt and I go to take off my jean jacket but you push my arms down. “I want you in my outfit, I’m going to fuck you how I want to”, you say. I am annoyed but I nod in agreement with a slightly frightened look on my face. our hand finally makes it up to my vagina, it’s soaked. You rip off my wet lacy pink panties and shove it in my mouth. “You’re going to like the way you taste, bitch”, you say. I nod again frightened and gulp. I don’t actually swallow anything, but I don’t want to think of what would happen if you started to get angry. You grab a fistful of my hazel brown hair and stand up, yanking me on my knees in front of you. You unbuckle your pants, and pull your penis out. You rip the underwear out of my mouth and lay your dick against my face, it starts at the bottom-left corner of my lip and goes up to the top of my forehead. There’s precum already and you make sure to wipe it on my face as your cock moves toward my mouth. You slowly rub your penis on my lips, feeling how soft they are, getting my lipgloss on the head of your penis. I open my mouth and stick out my tongue. I know my role. You grab the back of my head and shove your big cock in my mouth. I would be lying if I said this wasn’t one of my favorite parts. You slide your dick down my throat, feeling every part of my tongue grind against the bottom of your penis. You go in deeper to my throat, my eyes are tearing up, I’m gagging three times a second. It doesn’t stop you, you’re fucking my face harder than most people fuck their wives. You push your penis against the inside of my right cheek making a bulge in my face. You smack my face on the opposite side while your massive cock is trying to bust through my cheek. You grab the back of my head and trust down my throat three times in quick succession making me gag once again. “This is the only thing you get to eat now, slut”. And there’s that word again. It’s to imagine that you used to feel powerful getting your face hit and your throat used as a toy, but that what being a slut used to mean to you, not anymore.

After making sure I’m not going to be able to speak tomorrow you put me back on the bed, back on my back.”hand me your phone”, you command. This is your favorite part. You pull out the camera app and start recording. Annoyed I’m not in position yet, you angrily throw my legs onto your shoulder. My feet cross and lock together behind your neck and my toes curl in anticipation. My body is glowing from sweat, my hair is all over the place, and your handprint is still on the left side of my face. You rub the tip of you dick on my clit, you press hard rubbing in a slow methodical counter-clockwise motion. You wait for me to bite my lip, and once I do, You slide your cock down into me. You don’t waste any of your time, you’re in and you’re out and you’re in and you’re deeper than anyone else has ever been. I feel my body stretching for you, you’re hitting all the right spots and it doesn’t take long for me to start moaning. My tits are bouncing, my legs are tightening, your hand is on my stomach and I try to wrap my hands around your arms. The sweat from our bodies starts to come together. I begin to squeal like a trained singer using their falsetto. “Say the line now bitch”, you demand. “Fuck me, daddy, fuck me harder than anyone ever could” I squeal.”Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” , I exclaim. You throw my legs off of you and pull your penis out of me. You climb my body and grab a fistful of my hair again. “Feed me, daddy!”, I yell. You let out a deep moan and shoot cum out from your penis all over my once innocent face. It lasts for a good eight seconds and my face is covered. “You know what you have to do now”, you say. I start to slide roughly half of the cum on my face into my mouth and begin to gargle. “Good, make sure the rest gets to dry completely this time”, you proclaim. I spit the gargled cum into my left hand. I dip my fingers into the cum and begin to rub my clit and masturbate. You take hold of my wrist and shove my hand into my pussy. “Thank you for the breeding, daddy”. You chuckle and end the video. We clean ourselves, not saying a word to each other. I think about how weird it is you make me call you daddy and wonder what your relationship was like with your father. Eventually, I go shower, and you just watch tv in your underwear. I come out wobbling with shaky legs still, you tell me that I can stay the night tonight. You try to make it seem like it’s a sweet favor but we both know it’s just in case you want to use my mouth again. I lay in on my side of your bed and to my surprise, you give me a kiss goodnight. I plug in my phone charger next to your picture frame. My screen-saver pops up and it’s that cute picture of my husband and I down in the Bahamas for our four-year anniversary. I accidentally knock down your picture frame while staring into my screen, that holds my attention now. It’s a cute picture and you look really good. So does my sister, you guys had a hell of a wedding a few months ago.

And now I need to talk to you. No, not that you, the real you. The you that is reading this right now. I see you, y’know? I know you and I know what you’re thinking. I’m a shitty person right? Homewrecker…Bitch…Slut? Maybe it’s true, after what I have been doing for the last year it would be hard to argue otherwise. But y’know there’s something weird about fucking people you’re not supposed to. I don’t do it because my life or my relationship is bad. I don’t do it because my husband is bad in bed. Truth is I do it because I don’t want to think anymore. I have accepted I like being asleep more than being awake. I have to think when I am awake, and I have to remember and try my best to not accept the one simple fact about myself. I enjoy the bad.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/fykqh6/fm_a_story_that_i_wrote_last_night_at_4_am_i