I didn't have time to find a proper Halloween costume, so I improvised. With a white t-shirt, a low-cut black minidress with long sleeves and a hemline that shot skyward when I bent, a white headband, a black scarf that covered my hair, perilously high heels, and a necklace borrowed from a roommate with the Christ in agony, I made a passable mockery of a nun. My boyfriend, lover, dom, who was completing a residency in internal medicine at the time, dressed in a hospital gown as a patient.
We partied at a night club in the city. I danced with him but not to the exclusion of many others. The men touched me on the floor, their hands fondling my chest, brushing along my legs, grabbing my ass, reaching underneath the skirt. I allowed the tongues of strangers to slash between my lips.
Though our relationship had always been open, the boyfriend was noticeably jealous. His eyes showed a steely glint, his face a frown. Despite having given up the habit a month after we started dating, he told me that he needed a smoke, which he materialized from a pocket, and took me up a flight of stairs, through a maze of corridors, and onto a balcony. He inhaled deep drags out of the joint while I sipped from my bottle of beer. We made small talk in the brisk autumn air.
Tossing the stub to ground, he trapped me in a corner and asked for my panties. I stripped out of the white thong and gave it to him. A push on my shoulders caused me to squat. He extended two fingers at the meeting of my legs and had me place them in my cunt. Moaning, I rolled my head while he finger banged me against the door and felt myself becoming increasingly wet inside. He kissed my throat, bit my collar, and handled me roughly. I heard the pounding bass notes of the music behind me.
I braced my arms against the railing while he bunched up the skirt and fucked me from the rear. He held my waist and pulled me backward against his pelvis. The cock that threaded the opening in his boxers drilled my pussy. I noticed the dumpster in the alley three or four stories below us. My boyfriend grunted while I tottered on my feet. It was dark, but people stopping at the ATM on the corner of the street would have seen us if only they had looked up.
This was a quickie. He flooded my pussy with his come. I was eons (or a quarter hour of fucking) away from a climax of my own, but my orgasm now was not his intention.
Once the cock slipped free, he bent to his knees and wiped the come that dripped from my cunt with my underwear. The fabric as well soaked up the wetness on his shaft and the last bashful bead that stuck in the keyhole of his penis. He reached under my legs and slapped his hand over my pubis. "This is mine," he said. My clit trilled.
We went back downstairs where he bought us a new round of drinks. His hand tightened possessively over my buttocks as we drank. When he set his empty bottle on the counter, he directed my attention to an older man in a tux (an overweight James Bond) who was watching us. The ersatz spy nursed a martini in a dark corner of the room. "Call him Daddy," he said, and the hand between my shoulders nudged me that way. I stood with him for the space of several songs and the rest of my beer and did as I was told. As he was gay and more interested in my boyfriend, we shared a laugh. Kissing his cheek, I returned to the dance floor where more than one man's fingers found my fucked pussy.
The boyfriend was dancing with Hermione Granger, who paired woolen black knee socks with her Hogwarts uniform. He gripped her scarlet and gold tie and ran fingers that smelled of my vagina through her bushy hair.
After dancing, the man who lifted a gorilla mask to show his face bought me a drink. He was a friend from school for whom I harbored a minute crush. I sat on the stool at the bar, legs not quite together, and lifted the tumbler of whisky to my lips. Evidently he reciprocated my interest: fortified by the alcohol, his touch ascended the face of my thigh. Setting my hand atop his, I encouraged the exploration. The panties, which were moist with semen, were a bracelet around my wrist.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3tvsoa/eight_halloweens_ago_mf
"I encouraged the exploration…." ooooookayy – what happened next?
The hand in my skirt discovered pussy. We didn’t have sex. I went home that night with the boyfriend.
When did you discover your dominant side and did you find a sub or switch?
I was introduced to D/s when I was in high school. I am far more sub than dom. I have switched on occasion, usually with women.