[MF] Spontaneous BDSM and Anal in the East Village

Now that I’m about to enter my fourth decade, I’ve been thinking back to the experiences I had as a 20-something in NYC. It’s too bad they never made a Sex in the City for men coming of age in the mid-to-late aughts. It would have been a lot hornier than the original. I think it would have ended about the same, though. In the end, some banker finds you all the way in Paris just ‘cause he just can’t quit fucking you.

*The men and women of Manhattan, circa 2004-2008, were a horny bunch. They did a lot of wild shit and none of it was recorded because no one had an iPhone. These are their stories. Dun Dun.*

[you’ll have to excuse me; I watched a lot of TV.]

Olivia (name changed) was a hottie. She was a southern girl whose family history went back to the Mayflower. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than me, and kind of looked like Lily Collins. Large doe-eyes and prominent eyebrows, cheek bones, pointy chin. She had breasts that were a small handful with thick, protruding nipples that looked like erasers on novelty-sized pencils. Her best and most incongruous feature (she was otherwise very skinny) were long legs. Sculpted calves leading to thick, juicy thighs and eventually, if you could bare to look, an absolutely enormous ass.

To give you an idea: I used to help her get into her jeans by holding them up by the belt loops and having her jump up and down. I met her in the summer of ‘07 and watching her walk around in a slinky sundress was something else. She’d easily turn heads if not break necks. We never went to Rome but I’m pretty sure even the Pope would have had to look. And God wouldn’t have noticed because he was staring, too.

But life is cruel and being a hot girl has its drawbacks. In her case, it was deep-seeded mental health issues that manifested themselves in various ways: psychotic jealousy; crazy tantrums; self-harm (she once punched herself in the face while losing at Scrabble); and lots and lots of crying. She was sexy and manipulative in an almost cliched, hot-girl way. I was too young to really understand this trope but I did understand one thing: it severely pissed me off.

She understood something, too: pissing me off was a one-way ticket to a rough fuck. Today we’d all probably call this a toxic relationship. Back then it actually seemed pretty fun.

Suffice to say after a few months of dating, I knew our time together had an ending. I just didn’t know which chapter was the last one. When it did come, it came with great sound and fury, but… that’s not why we’re here. Enough maudlin stuff.

At the time I lived in the East Village in a second-floor apartment that had the good fortune of having its own private outdoor space at the back of the building. It was really part of the building’s fire escape, but it had a table and some chairs–and someone had strung up fairy lights–so we used it as a hang out spot.

I don’t remember all the details but I do remember this: we had recently had a fight, a common occurrence, and I was in a foul mood. I was trying to make myself feel better with two things: drink and the feeling of her pillowy ass grinding on my lap. It was only half-working.

Liv could sense this and her solution to most problems was a good, hard fuck session.

“*I love make-up sex,*” she’d say.

So after some mindless conversation we excused ourselves and went to the bedroom. We didn’t have to go far, my bedroom let out right on to the back porch area, so we could still hear the sounds of a get-together as I closed the door: clinking glasses, soft conversation, the flick and click of a lighter.

Here’s a secret: one of my roommates back then, a big, tall Texan (we’ll call him… Tex) who was as emotionally weak as he was physically large, had a huge crush on Liv. I knew about it, of course. Honestly, every other dude you met had a crush on Liv. She was fun, very attractive and had these big innocent eyes that turned every other dude into a white knight.

I was not well known for my kind and soft nature, however, so of course every guy she met wanted to save her from me. Today we’d call those dudes simps and Liv could collect simps like they were Pokemon. I’ve never met so many people ready to defend the honor of a chick who had none. She had a Pokedex-full and I couldn’t leave her alone for a minute without her attracting like ten new, soft dudes ready to whisk her away to safety. My god!

Anyway, you probably already guessed it: Tex was one of the people still outside as Liv and I closed the door and began making out. I did have window shades but they didn’t block everything and we could still hear everyone so I’m guessing they could hear us, too. I never bothered to learn how much anyone could see but, I’ve never been shy. Neither was Liv+drinks.

I’m not going to lie and tell you that I didn’t enjoy knowing that Tex could hear everything that went on. I disliked men that fell for Liv’s bullshit even more than I disliked the bullshit itself. There’s something so repulsive in watching someone fall for an easy con.

Liv enjoyed it most when our fucking was a little mean—I think it’s why she picked so many fights—and I was just drunk enough to go the extra mile, so after a few seconds of kissing and trying to drive our tongues into each other’s throats, I grabbed her, spun her around with one arm behind her back and perp-walked her to the wall.

“*I want you to stare at this fucking wall until I say otherwise*.”

I pressed my body against hers so she could feel my hardening cock and kissed and sucked on her neck, biting along her trapezius and shoulder, controlling her head by her ponytail. Occasionally, I would press her face against the wall to cause her some discomfort. Something about her brought out the animal in me. She loved every second of it.

“*Spread your legs for me, slut, and don’t say a fucking word*.” Liv obeyed immediately. In normal life, she was combative. In sex she was a submissive little kitten.

I bent down, lifted her skirt and pulled her panties to her ankles in one motion. They were a lacy number that tore easily which angered her and pleased me. Then I stood back up and began teasing her pussy with my fingers while I pushed her face into the wall.

“*Don’t make a sound unless you want everyone outside to know what a whore you are for me*.”. At this she had to begin to whimper and whine.

The whining made an overwhelming meanness rise up in me. I decided that this was probably enough foreplay as I could feel her dripping all over my fingers and so I made her take a step back, bend over and put her hands on the wall like I was about to frisk her for contraband.

I took my cock out, which had been painfully straining against my jeans, and immediately began sliding it up and down her wet pussy lips, gathering her wetness on the head of my cock. She whimpered and whined some more and tried to angle her hips a bit so I would slip in but I knew her game and wouldn’t let her. Of course, all I wanted to do was to make her take me but I knew it’d be more fun to torture her for a while first.

“*Tell me what you want, slut*,” I said, continuing to molest her exposed little pussy with the head of my cock. Pushing against her lips, rubbing up and down her engorged clit, probing her entrance but never actually going inside.

She whined some more and just said, “*please*.”

*“Tell me what you want or you’re not going to get it*.”

She broke quick. “*I want your cock.*”

“*What’s that? I can barely hear you*.”

“*I want your cock*,” she said. Louder now.

“*Good enough, slut*.” I had grown tired of the game and pushed the length of my cock inside her in one go. This coaxed out a guttural moan from her and she started writhing uncontrollably on my cock as it impaled her. I never asked but I think she came right there and then.

Liv dutifully kept her hands up as I vigorously pumped away, my balls coming up to slap her clit with each hard thrust. I had to raise up the bottom of her dress a bit so I could enjoy watching my cock disappearing into her pussy over and over as her lips stretched around my girth. I grabbed her thick hips to steady myself so I could fuck even harder, bottoming out inside of her with every thrust. I could feel the head of my cock hitting her cervix. Her grunts, mewls and moans filled the air. I couldn’t hear the people outside anymore. Either they had left or were listening intently.

Here’s something else I had learned about Liv in our short time together: she had an unspoken kink for anal. I had always been interested in the ass and hers was so big, round and juicy, with a tight, pink little hole, that I couldn’t help myself. So, a few weeks prior, I had cuffed her hands above her head and had taken her anal virginity all the while watching her eyes rolling back into her head. She had made brand new noises for me and just whispered “*fuck, fuck, fuck*,” over and over again. That had been missionary anal and it had been fun, but I had other plans for today. I wanted total control. It was time for something new.

I buried myself deep inside her one more time and then slowly pulled my cock out. I watched it leave her pussy, pulling her inner lips along with it, until I was finally free from her grip.

“*Get on your fucking knees and clean it.*”

She dropped down with no hesitation. I grabbed her pony tail and pulled her face towards me. She ran her tongue around my balls, licking up the mixture of my precum and her juices, before she moved on to slurping up and down my cock until it was spit shined. When I first met her she told me: “*I’m not like other girls, I like blowjobs and drink regular Coke*.” And so she did.

After that, I told her to stand up and sprung my poorly considered plan in to action. Careful readers will note that she was still wearing her dress, which was kind of like a t-shirt with a skirt at the end of it with quarter-length sleeves.

“*Put your arms above your head*.”

She raised her arms and I started helping pulling her dress off but, once her breasts were exposed and the dress had bunched up over her arms and face, I stopped. Instead of peeling the dress off the rest of the way, I wrapped the fabric around her arms and face and tied it in to a knot.

“*W-, what are you doing?*” Her voice was muffled by the fabric.

“*This is how you’re wearing it, slut*.” She didn’t object.

Picture this: a gorgeous girl, naked from the tits down, with her arms trapped above her head and her own dress effectively blinding her. I was very proud of my creativity. But I couldn’t let her stay standing.

I lead her over to the bed and pushed her down. She lost her balance and collapsed immediately, supporting most of her weight on her elbows and face.

“*Lift your hips up for me*.” She complied best she could. The image of her, half immobilized, her bottom-half lifting itself off of the bed, presenting herself to me, is forever seared into my brain. I have a feeling it’ll be one of the life-events that flashes before my eyes right before I go.

I couldn’t let the view go to waste. I climbed behind her, lined up and thrust my cock back into her now slightly-gaped pussy. Her moans and whimpers resumed with fresh vigor but now muffled by the fabric and the bed sheets. Her pussy was amazing, as always, but I wanted something else. And I was going to take it.

We started slow, with my thumb working into her ass, as her grunts began to sound a bit more pained. I kept it in there for a while, using it as a kind of finger-hold while I controlled her ass and continued to plow into her increasingly dripping cunt. After she got used to it, my thumb was replaced by one finger and then two as I worked to stretch out her tight little ring. It was so tight I couldn’t keep my fingers together. Her hole kept making them cross over each other.

”*Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Jesus, fuck, fuck*. *Jesus christ i feel so full!*” Was what poured out of her slutty mouth, as I double penetrated her for the first time. At that, there was a knock on the door.

I guess not everyone had left.

“Everything ok in there?” God damn it, Tex!

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/124ol5b/mf_spontaneous_bdsm_and_anal_in_the_east_village