This was during my late twenties. She was a grad student at Berkeley, and really one of the most fun women I ever knew, sexually.
Ellen and I had been going out, hooking up, dating, whatever you want to call it for a few weeks. It wasn’t just sex, but it was mainly sex. We kept indulging in public play, whether it was just my hand boldly on her ass while we strolled around Berkeley, or when I met her in the stacks of the university library and fucked her up against a shelf of books until a few volumes of “Pacific Naval Battles” fell on the floor. We hadn’t used the words ‘dominant’ or ‘submissive’, but that was the energy of our relationship; she lit up happily whenever my hands were on her, directing her, she squirmed with pleasure when I gave her orders. She liked leaving it up to me when we’d cut our walk short and go back to her place for titanic fucking, or when I’d keep her on edge, slipping my hand up her skirt when we were unobserved, teasing her, making her ache with need. She was deeply satisfying to play with. The look of glee on her face during sex, this pure uninhibited joy that we were creating such gorgeous pleasure together, was sincerely beautiful.
We’d made plans to spend this whole day together, but I’d arranged to meet her at her house before we’d head into San Francisco. When I got to her house in the morning, she was still getting ready, and took me back to her bedroom. She had a variety of outfits laid out, and stripped down to her sheer, transparent bra and panty before grinning at me and asking, “Any opinions on what I should wear?” I took the time to admire her body. She had an astonishingly attractive figure, petite, small, but rounded, her ass a perfect little bubble, her breasts were amazing globes, nipples perfectly in the center. Even her face was a little rounded, impish. Contrasting against that girlish femininity were the firm muscles that moved under her skin. She was a rock-climber; I’d watched her little body swarm up a cliff-face with ease. It was like she knew just how to work out to not lose an ounce from her breasts or ass, while sculpting her arms, legs, and abs into feminine but powerful lines. She was proud of that stomach; she liked to ride me, to put her little body on top of mine and sink herself down on my cock and lean back, so that the perkiness of her breasts over the flat landscape of her stomach was even more dramatic.
“A pair of shorts will make today more frustrating for both you and me, but I think that could be good,” I said. She shot me a narrowed, quizzical look, but didn’t press. I selected a pair of her shorts that I knew would grip her ass tightly, along with her slightly ripped Pixies t-shirt and a hoodie, because you can’t ever not bring a hoodie in San Francisco.
She nestled her body up against mine, and I saw us in the mirror at that moment and liked it: her tiny body, her head coming up to mid-chest, almost entirely naked while I was still clothed, wrapping her leg around mine and looking up at me winsomely. “Did you want to do anything before we got going?” she asked, her voice containing notes of need. I delayed answering, leaning down to brush my lips against her forehead in a way that I knew sent shivers for her, and traced my fingers against the nape of her neck. I nuzzled my lips against her ears as my other hand slipped to her panties and slowly drew them down. I felt her body reacting to me, her legs shifting, and the look of dismay on her face when I stepped back from her was almost comical–she lifted a hand, reaching for me. I smiled, “Wait,” I said.
I opened the package I had brought with me, and took out a butterfly shape in purple silicone; a remote vibrator. This was long ago, and the remote was hand-carried and only had a range of twenty feet or so. Her eyes widened instantly, and she said, “What is it… is it a vibrator?” I nodded, and handed it to her, along with the harness straps for it. She played with them, her brow furrowing adorably in thought, and I said, “You strap it on,” I say, “So that your hands are free.” She smiled, and quickly looped the harness around her, clipping it in, positioning the butterfly against her naked pussy. She awkwardly reached for the straps at her back, so I spun her around and drew them tight. They lay cutely across her taut little ass, and I gave it a satisfied smack before I turned her back around. She looked so sweet and sexual at the same time like this: Wearing only a transparently bra on her breasts, hard nipples jutting out, and only a sparkly purple butterfly on her pussy, black straps reaching around her thighs. Clearly a creature dressed for sexual play. With her close-cropped hair and elfin features, the addition of the butterfly made her look even more pixieish, a magical being of sex.
I smiled at her, and thumbed the remote control in my pocket, and the vibrator started up. I had only put it on the lowest setting and couldn’t hear anything, but her eyes widened and her mouth opened, “What, you… oh!” she said, shifting on her toes, putting one hand down to the butterfly. I turned it off, and she said, “That was unexpected. But not unwelcome. That thing has… nice placement.” I turned it on again, and saw her eyes fill with pleasure as I increased the intensity by a notch. She held one hand on her stomach, the other on the butterfly, changing its angle just slightly, riding her clit with it. When I turned it off this time, she glared at me.
This was one of the very fun aspects of her to explore, how much she liked denial, being teased, having her sexuality stoked and interacted with until she was a shaking and incandescent figure of need, her quick mind overcome by sheer need for sex and satiation. Denial didn’t have to be about denying her orgasms, either; she was multiorgasmic as hell. Satiation came in different forms for her. But even as she liked the denial, in the moment she showed anger that was no less intense for being part of our play, as if I’d taken away something she deserved, and she was determined to get it back.
“Put your panties back on,” I said, and saw her eyes flare more and added, softening it, showing her I had a plan, and was not just idly toying with her, “They’ll help keep it in place. And your shorts.” She drew the transparent panties back on, and then her shorts. She took a look in the mirror; the butterfly sat so flat against her that there was nothing visible through the fabric of the shorts, nothing to show that she was dressed up like a slut for me, a toy on her pussy, the control in my hand. Her shorts looked amazing on her, but they weren’t obscene, she was just hot as hell. People might look at her and lust, they’d have no idea what a truly wild little fucktoy she really was.
WIth that thought, now that she had her shorts back on, I activated the toy again and saw it hit her. “Socks and shoes, now,” I said, levelly, and she bit her lip but complied, moving in bursts of motion as I played with the control, sending the toy veering back and forth between the lowest and second-lowest levels. She struggled her socks on, one-by-one, then the shoes, and with trembling fingers defiantly did up the laces of her red Converse. I turned the toy off, and gave her a kiss, lingering on her full lips, my hands on her arms, her back, bending her back a bit as I passionately kissed her, showing her my excitement and lust for our day together. The strength of her body, the delicacy, and the control she was giving me gave me an unequaled feeling of pride and vigor.
We got into her car, and I left the toy off until the first time that we pulled to a halt at a stop sign, no other cars in the intersection, and then I flicked it on, higher than I had set it before. She gave the cutest little grunt of surprise, no other word for it, a quick expulsion of air as her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. She didn’t turn to face me, but took a deep breath as I turned it off again, and we went on our way. When we got to a red light, I saw her fingers tighten first, and then I turned it on. Her head dropped, nodding, as if to say yes, and she knew when the light changed because I turned off the toy; it took her half a breath before she recovered and drove through. The next light, she tensed, but I didn’t trigger it, and she took a huge breath and let it out. At the last stop before the freeway to the bridge, I turned it back on and played it up and down the scale of intensity we’d achieved so far, and her face danced with pleasure until I noticed the cars starting to move ahead of us and turned it back off. She breathed again, shook her head a fraction, and started forward again.
We passed along the Bay Bridge high over the water, and the traffic flowed smoothly. I told her about the commute I used to have over that bridge, where I watched the sunrise every morning, timing my commute with it so that I could see the Golden Gate truly live up to its name. I gave her directions along 280, and it wasn’t until we got off on John Daly that there was a pause in traffic again. I didn’t use the toy, though, but leaned across and kissed her, tangling my hand in her hair–she had such great hair, always a bit wild but so soft–pushing my tongue into her mouth, my hand capturing one breast and squeezing hard. I bit her lip as I pulled away. She made a little mewling noise, low in her throat.
I directed her to the final leg of our journey, and we arrived at the zoo. She smiled happily as she got out of the car; the zoo was always one of her favorite places to go. Only specific parts of it; she liked the places where the animals had sufficient habitat, where they seemed happy and social. As we started to walk to the entrance, I put the toy on at the lowest setting, and she barely missed a step. I took her hand in mine and held it as we walked in, and started our circuit of the park. As always, she wanted to see the otters first, engaged in their endless play, sinuous bodies sliding over each other as they rushed from one part of their tank to another. As she leaned against the railing, I increased the intensity, and saw her close her eyes, lips moving soundlessly. Her hand holding mine squeezed tight as I increased the vibration higher than we’d gone before, up another tick, then another. I felt her body start to buckle and lowered it quickly as I moved supportively next to her; she swayed against me.
“Tom,” she said, and I liked hearing my name from her mouth, “This is so much better than I thought it would be.” She pushed back from the railing with unsteady legs. We visited the elephant, the hippo, each time giving her a long, intense session with the butterfly against her, the crowds around us totally unaware of what was happening. A sexual communication between just us two.
I led us back to the car, and as we drove north to Golden Gate Park I stroked her thigh and told her she was a good girl. And I didn’t relent from using the toy on her at every red light, every stop sign, a punctuation of pleasure in the journey at every stop. We parked and entered, tall trees immediately all around us, a different world to the city. Ellen looked so happy when I took her hand and led her down a trail that led away from the main path, and then off that trail, behind a stand of eucalyptus, a private little area. It took almost no force at all from my hands on her shoulders to send her thudding to her knees in the rustling fallen bark from the trees, and when my hand hauled out my cock her palms were already pressed against my thighs, her mouth opening, that smart mouth that said so many clever things was greeting my cock in worship.
I switched the toy back to its highest setting as I pushed my cock into her mouth, and her face went through so many expressions as I did, overwhelmed by sensation. I reached the back of her throat and kept my cock there for a moment, feeling her almost gag, then truly gag, her throat fluttering against the head of my cock. I pulled back to her lips before fucking my cock back again. She looked up at me with her clear eyes and pressed her tongue up against the bottom of my cock as I used her mouth, but the clarity of her gaze clouded as the vibrator worked on her pussy and my cock slid in and out of her mouth, the first strands of saliva starting to join it.
“Come for me, Ellen,” I said, “Come with that cock stuffed in your mouth the way you love. I’ve been working you up all morning and you must need it so badly. And now that my cock is violating your mouth you’re getting what you need to come.” My voice was a low snarl, the way she loved it, dripping with intensity, a hidden note of caring and tenderness behind the sheer voraciousness I was expressing. She responded to my words by leaning forwards, choking herself just a bit more on my cock as the vibrator, loud enough to hear now in the stillness of this copse in the woods, buzzed on her, an instrument for my domination of her. As spit dripped from her lips, her posture kept it from dripping onto her shirt, and I admired her good sense even while being a greedy public cocksucker for me. I felt her hands on my thighs tighten then slacken and reached to grab her by her shoulders as she incoherently moaned around my cock, spit drooling out of her mouth around my cock even as she came. I fucked her mouth during her orgasm, not slowing down, not letting her recover at all, and was rewarded by a second orgasm so quick on the heels of the first; no sooner had her moans around my cock decreased than they urgently started up again, a gurgling groan, and I saw her eyes roll desperately as she shook hard.
I pulled my wet cock out of her mouth and heard her sweet panting, her deep, liquid breaths as she recovered from the mouthfucking, but she also made urgent little needy noises, wanting it back, wanting more, and looked almost betrayed when I pushed my cock back into my pants. “Not yet, little slut,” I told her, and she accepted that like the good submissive she was even while I could tell her ears were still ringing from desire.
We walked through the park slowly, the toy back to a low rumble on her, and sometimes when no one was around I would put my hand on her shorts to feel it. “I’m soaked,” she said, “It’s going to start showing soon, I think.” That made me feel proud, to have taken her to such a physical excess, but I started us on a slow circle back to the car. At one point, I took her to the side again, just off the path, not unseen but making the slightly decorous effort of a couple in public to be less noticeable, and kissed her tenderly, my hand on her face, as I played the toys intensity up and down in a sine wave that made her squirm under my kisses, made her come again, her hands around my neck, kissing me fiercely.
When she realized we were headed back to the car, she said, “Where are we going next?” and I was proud of her for not pleading. When I said, “To my place,” she looked content but almost afraid to trust it. On the way back there, I continued the play, and when we finally parked outside my house she looked up at me earnestly and said, “Are we really going inside?” I grinned at her, and helped her out on unsteady feet and led her into my apartment. I took her to the bedroom and kissed her more, sweet kisses, darting my tongue into her mouth, pulling on her lips.
I unbuttoned her shorts and slid them off, helped her tug the hoodie up and off of her, the shirt under it, as well. My voice rumbling, “God, Ellen, you look so fucking beautiful. I love pulling your clothes off, revealing this body. Every moment I want you more.” Then she was back to where I’d seen her this morning, in just the blatantly sexual transparent bra and panties, the toy’s straps clasped around her waist, butterfly on her pussy. Her panties were visibly wet, and her hands went to the straps of the toy but I grabbed her wrists.
I turned her and put her face down on the bed, and again unbuckled and hauled my cock out. “Yes, please, oh god, Tom, please,” she said, and I smacked my hand down hard on her gorgeous ass and said “Please what, little slut?” and grabbed her hair so that she made eye contact with me. Arching her back like that made the muscles of her taut frame stand out, and she met my gaze with feral need and said, “Please fuck me. I’ve needed it all day. Please get that fucking cock inside me.”
I grabbed my cock and slid it up between her pussylips and nudged her clit and she groaned and shook her head and said, “no please, in me, please,” and right on that final please, I lined my cock up with her pussy and sank it in. Normally, with Ellen, there was quite a bit of effort in getting my cock balls-deep in her but today after all this play, even without penetration, the head of my cock popped into her pussy and then it was like the rest of me was welcomed, drawn in by her needy body. Her pussy was soft silk, a perfect scabbard for my cock, and I let out a fundamentally satisfied noise as I bottomed out in her. As always, it just looked insane that her small body could take my girth. I turned the toy up even higher and she gave a cry I’d never heard from her before, but no safewords or gestures came from her and so I pulled back almost all the way and then slammed into her delicious pussy. “Fuck I love treating you like a toy,” I said to her as I started to use her, “All day long you were just my plaything.”
Her voice was shaky, almost losing it, but she said, “I’m your fucking slut,” and I pulled hard back on her hair as I started to fuck her into the bed hard. She started coming so quickly, her body thrashing under me, and I just kept fucking her, pounding her down, the straps of the toy such a sweet lingerie around her waist and ass as my cock invaded her pussy. I pushed her head down into the bed, one other hand on her smoothly muscled back, and began giving her deep, booming strokes, my hips smacking into her ass on every one. “Look at what a hot little bitch you are, Ellen,” I said, my voice starting to get ragged and husky from my own desire, “You’re just so fucking happy to be blessed with my cock,” and she laughed in that way she did when she was feeling so submissive and free, a clarion call of sexuality and hearing that noise is what made me start to come inside her, growling, shouting, holding my pelvis tight against her as I pumped what seemed unending streams of cum into her pussy. Images of the day, of her beautiful face in orgasm so many times whipped through my mind as I poured into her, giving her not just my cum but my voice, my sweat, my intensity, my open need for her. The long day we’d spent together with us being so close, so open. As I came in her, she pushed the butterfly up against her, her arm crooked under her, holding it in place and I felt her pussy clench on my cock during the last vibrating descent of my orgasm and heard her cries join my own.
After long moments, I pulled out of her, her pussy painted with my cum, and she lay stunned. I helped her farther up on the bed and joined her, wrapping my arms around her, and she tucked her head against my chest and within minutes was dozing, then asleep. Another sweet aspect of hers, how it was not her own orgasms, but mine, that made her content enough to drift off. I held her in my arms, enjoying her feminine warmth, and began to drift myself.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/y3dqhc/out_and_about_with_ellen_mf_toys_public