I noticed it at dinner. She was wearing a deliciously low cut dress, red, my favourite. She leaned forward to say something softly to me, I don’t even remember what, all I remember is the scent of perfume, the slip of her dress, and the F.
Just there, just beneath the silk written on her breast, in black, ink? Makeup? The letter F.
She knows I saw and I know the motion was deliberate. Everything about tonight has been deliberate, from the choice of venue (our first date), to the dress (the last I bought her before I left) to the F written on her left breast.
We kiss like teenagers the entire Uber ride back to hers, she tastes familiar yet different; her choice of wine has changed but her tongue still does that thing. Her body presses against me, I feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her dress and my shirt. The driver must hate us. My hand slips up her dress to find lace, heat, dampness. She spreads her legs a little. The driver must love us.
She still lives in the same place. In the elevator I pick her up and press her back against the wall, just like before. I grind my crotch into her ass as she unlocks the door, just like before. She reaches arounds, slips fingers under my belt and drags me in, all just like before.
On the sofa she straddles me, her thighs exposed, her panties exposed. She grinds and grinds against me, I’m so hard, I need her so badly. She kisses me and pulls slightly away.
“I have a surprise for you.”
I grunt in reply. I don’t care, I need her, I need her naked and I need to be inside her.
“Stop, hold a second”.
I try to hold her to me, but she gently untangles herself and stands up. Her hair is half across her face, her dress is rucked up, her nipples are hard and her lips are wet. She smiles.
“F”, she says.
“F”, I repeat, only half aware I say it.
She reaches for the spaghetti straps of her dress and slips off the left shoulder. It drops and she holds the dress in place.
“F”, she says again.
“F”, I echo.
She smiles wider, and drops the dress, exposing her breast and the rest of the letters.
“Federico,” she whispers. His name is written across her. She taps the writing. “This is the first place Federico came on me. Three weeks after you left; I only lasted three weeks. I kneeled in front of him, I sucked his cock and he came on me right” tap… “here.” tap…
I feel lightheaded, I feel like an animal. My cock has never been harder, I have never wanted her more than right now. I reach up to pull her back to me, but she dances away.
“Sit. Stay.” she says.
She reaches to the other strap. Lets it drop. “L”, I can see an “L”.
“L”, I say.
“L”, she nods, dropping the right side of her dress and exposing her breast. “Luke. Luke groped this breast in that seedy nightclub across town. Kate’s hen night, three in the morning. He pulled and squeezed until I took his hand and pushed his fingers into me. I think his name was Luke anyway, he looked like a Luke.”
She steps towards me, reaches down to my pants and pulls out my cock. She starts stroking, long, slow, hard strokes.
“More?” she asks.
“Oh God yes, please.”
“Good. There’s more.” Her eyes flick to her dress, inviting me to do it. I pull it down to her navel. There’s writing.
“Tommy”, I whisper.
She squeezes my cock hard. “Tommy”, she repeats. “Tommy loved having me on my stomach and fucking me so deep I swear I could feel it right here…” she touches his name. “He fucked me right here on this couch, every Tuesday night for a month.”
I groan, I don’t know how much more I can take. She starts stroking faster. “Take my dress off” she says. It slips into a puddle on the floor. Their names stand out against her skin, the men who had her since me.
Only her panties remain; sheer, lacy, beautiful. There’s writing underneath. She guides my hand into them, pulling the front down just enough for me to see.
“Jake. 27” I say breathlessly.
She nods and then gasps as my fingers slip inside her.
“Jake,” she murmurs. She starts grinding on my hand, my thumb finds her clit as she strokes my cock. “Jake, Jake, Jake” she moans.
I need to know. I need to know what it means.
“Twenty seven” I say.
She smiles, eyes closed. “Jake”.
“Twenty seven” I say again.
She moans and grinds harder. She’s dripping wet. She lets go of me and brings her hands up to her breasts, my cock strains towards her, needing more.
“Twenty seven” I say again more desperately.
“When I met Jake,” she whipsers through the moans, “when he first had me, oh God, this feels so good, just like that”
I work harder to bring her off. I understand, this is the price, this is how I’ll know.
She squeezes and pinches her nipples. Her breathing gets faster, my fingers work in and out of her. She builds and builds and finally, finally, she shudders. She shakes and groans and bucks on my hand. “Oh fuck yeah, do it Jake, do it” she says between gasps. In that moment I want to be Jake, I want her to want me like Jake.
She comes down, ever so slightly, looks me in the eyes.
“When I met Jake, he took me to his cabin in the woods. He fucked me twenty seven times in a single week. And he came inside me all twenty seven times.”
My cock throbs hard and I feel like I may come there and then, my fingers dripping with her. She straddles me, her wetness pressed against my cock. She reaches over to the table beside the sofa for something.
“We have all night.”, she says. “For the first time in a long time.” She places something small and hard in my hand. I look down. A pen. She rocks back gently and I slip into her.
“I want you to fuck me until their names are gone”, she starts sliding up and down me. “And then I want *you* to make your mark on me.”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/it3iw6/the_letter_f_mf_hotpast_gentle_femdom_bodywriting