My own ability to orgasm is almost never ending. I can ride wave after wave of pleasure, greedily taking everything you’ll give me. Arching my back, rolling my hips, and always demanding more. The higher the count, the shinier the badge, cause me breaking my record is YOU breaking my record. The truth is, the more I enjoy you, the easier it is to lie back and receive your best… I can let you get me off for hours, racing to my peak over and over, until you finally let me know you’re close, and all my attention shifts to you.
I know that you reaching your own finish line will almost certainly mean at least a break, and will only leave me more aroused and ravenous than before, but getting to watch you come is so scorchingly hot I can’t resist. And you have worked so hard for me. With you, I have felt so good, for so long, that my gratitude must be shown.
You ask if I want it and it’s like it flips a switch in my brain. My own selfish desire for continued attention is muted, auto pilot as I grind against whatever is closest to my crotch. Your pleasure is more important to me than anything.
A devilish smile bares my teeth, but only for a moment, then my face softens. Desperate, pleading, begging for you to give me everything. A barrage of filth escapes my lips. I am so excited my words run together, thanking you for letting me use your beautiful, perfect body, and pouting with trembling lips as I beg you to use mine. I am merely a toy to be played with at your discretion, and the way I selfishly took of you demands penance. So use me. Jerk your cock inside my silky folds, so wet and swollen after your administrations. Bury yourself in my throat and tell me when I can breathe. Let my voice inside your head. My hands are yours so command them.
I am still cumming for you, but at this point it’s almost a distraction. I twitch and growl and roar and snarl like an animal, barely able to contain myself. You are so incredibly lovely at this point it is almost hard for me to look at you, so I drink you in in pieces. The sweat beading down your flushed, damp chest. The way your fingers grip and your shoulders flex. And your face. Your hair, wet, falling into your eyes before being pushed back. Your brow furrowed. Biting your lips or with a relaxed, open jaw. And your eyes always on me. You start to pant faster, and chasing your own pleasure, forget to pull your punches and use me like a toy. Driving yourself into me with abandon. Fuck please cum for me.
In my mouth. A moment of silence and my eyelids flutter as hands stroking, mouth sucking, you start to fill me up. I don’t stop until you’re finished, my lips sealed to hold in every drop. I look up at you to play with it in my mouth, letting your mildly bittersweet taste wash over my tongue, then grit my teeth and swallow it like a shot before dropping back down to lick and suck you some more. I don’t tell you this, but there is a wicked thrill and power in consuming you. In tasting, ingesting, and being nourished by such a precious, personal part of you. I look back at your spent face, and lick the last drops of cum from your cock, smiling sweetly in the fact that part of your life force is mine.
In my ass. Dirty and depraved, almost embarrassing. Deliciously whorish, letting you have all the power and use me however you wish. I can feel you throb when you finish in me here.
On my skin. Decoration and debasement. You didn’t really NEED me for this in any way other than being a pretty little doll. So I lie back and languish for you, letting you admire your handiwork.
In my pussy. When I am most desperate that you please don’t stop. I like the thought of you using my body for your own needs and not interrupting your own pleasure and this checks both those boxes. When you’re finished, I reach my hand down so I can taste what you left inside me. I am most certainly not finished with you.
Author: JayTaylorxx
Crush
*I wrote this about one of the first photographers I ever worked with… the one who gave me the foot kink.*
I wasn’t sure if these could be considered “nerves” or not… I always got jittery before shooting, but this was a bit different. When I shot for him I felt flushed; sexy, powerful. The emotions I portrayed for him were real; if anything, I had to pull them back. Though I am usually a complete professional, this man elicited a response from me that contrasted with the others. He turned me on. So, the erotic content we shot was some of my best work. I was very proud of it, and it was well received by my fans…
“Jay, focus,” I was snapped out of my reverie and looked up into his face before quickly blushing and looking down. “That’s it. Nice smirk. You know what I want…” I hated him having the upper hand, but I had to admit those butterflies in my belly felt delicious, and it was written all over my face. Dirty little attention whore… I couldn’t help it. I needed them to focus on me, so I’d tease; when these much more experienced men knew how to push back, I didn’t really stand a chance…
Virgin Gold Rush
*Tags for this piece are [First Time] [Oral Sex] [Outdoors] [Casual]*
About a week ago, I went mining with my longtime friend Jennifer. This was an unusual expedition for me, as it was without my brothers and the first time with a girl.
Jenny was a babe. Blonde hair, blue eyes, big tits. I had chased her before, but eventually gave up after she made it clear that it was just friends between us. Her company would have to be enough for me.
She was a fast learner, and quickly mastered the sluice, which surprised me. She also had no problem jumping into the cold water, playfully splashing.
After a long day and moderately good haul; we sat by the river eating our lunch, enjoying the feel of the sun on our bare skin. It was hard for me to keep my eyes off her tight little bikini, but I didn’t think she noticed. Either that, or just didn’t mind.
We’d always talked and joked about everything, and the topic of sex eventually came up.
The Northern Boy
The first thing I noticed was the cold. After that was the taste of the leather thong tied into my mouth, and the way it softened around my tongue. The smell of fire. The sound of men. I fluttered my eyes open and the smoke burned. I shook my head and tried to stifle a cough around the leather strap. The voices stopped. My head hurt.
I turned towards the sudden silence. A dozen or so men stared down at me. Tall, bearded, draped in furs with painted faces. I tried to move and noticed the binds on my hands and feet. Fuzzy memories started to creep into my aching head… The way I had struggled when I was taken, how it hadn’t mattered. Regardless, I was here now and I stared back with as defiant an expression I could muster. We looked at each other for a moment before they resumed their conversation. Their language meant nothing to me. The one I assumed was the leader made one final comment and then they all turned to move when a roar of protestation rang out. Another of the clan ran forward and began rapidly speaking to the first, occasionally throwing hostile glances in my direction. This one was different. The same furs and painted face of the others, but with short hair and a smooth chin. No tattoos that I could see, and eyes that shone. Hardly more than a boy.