*Another one of my cheating stories from the past. This one was the last time I cheated, not just on this particular ex, but ever. If you have not read my previous stories, the important thing to know is I was in a bad relationship with someone who was controlling, manipulative, degrading, and abusive (mainly mentally and emotionally, but some physical aspects showed through here and there -pushing, throwing things, slammed me into a wall and raised a fist up but didn’t it).*
**Backstory:**
“I gave her our numbers.”
He leaned back against the kitchen counter, watching me rub the herb mixture onto the raw chicken breasts; distant sharp cheers coming from the television in the living room. Less than forty-eight hours ago, we met the topic of our current discussion at our favorite wine bar during one of our nights out, the three of us deciding to continue our fun at a nearby hotel. Sadly, after a nice wakeup call and delicious breakfast, I fell back asleep only to miss her before I could say goodbye or get her name.
“Why would you do that?” I asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It didn’t stop the giddy feeling or the small smile that creeped into the corner of my mouth.
“What do you mean why? You wanted to see her again, didn’t you?”
I did. I really shouldn’t, but I did. “I don’t know, is it ok to see her again?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” He asked the question so nonchalant as if it was the most natural thing in the world and I was the weird one for thinking it wasn’t. Why did I think it was weird?
As something of a change of pace, here’s a recounting of something recent, told from her perspective…
“What floor?” I say, a wink and naughty smile masking the tempest of nerves building inside me.
This is not at all what I intended. This was supposed to be just an online experiment—an exchange of flirty emails I could use as fodder for fantasy every now and then. Yet, here I am, almost suddenly, ready to ride an elevator to the hotel room of a stranger I met only hours ago.
In silence, he leads me down the hall, each step signaling an escalation of the anticipation building between my legs. As we cross the threshold into the room, I turn to look at him, the angles of his face shifting upwards into a smile as he met my eyes, making my pulse quicken.
“I want you to relax,” he says gently. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
“No…,” I say, almost too quickly. “I’m just… this is all new to me,” I say shyly, a hint of embarrassment in my tone.
“If it helps, I’m a little nervous too,” he offers, my smile and ease in his presence quickly returning.
This was a few years ago… I had trained my partner at the time to be as raunchy and kinky as me, and after a loveless, sexless marriage, she was ready for a good time.
After her little girl was tucked in, we smoked some pot on the front porch, and started getting frisky. Her front lawn is on a fairly busy street, but has hedging and trees to make it a bit more private.
We’re kissing, touching each other everywhere, when she pulls back. I ask “what’s wrong?” but she doesn’t reply. She walks inside silently, and returns with a blanket, lube, and a FeelDoe strap on.
She lays the blanket in the grass, and strips, still not saying a word.
She gets on her back, spreads her legs, and starts playing with herself. I take this as an invitation to join in. I start licking her delicious cunt, and adding fingers to her greedy, needy pussy. One, two, three, and I realize a little lube will help.
We’ve fisted before, and I could tell she wanted it tonight. With lube applied to my hand, I go to four fingers, then slowly stretch her to fit my whole hand. As I sink into her, I watch her eyes go wide. She’s in another plain of existence.
By the hand, she led Daddy into the garden and around the back so she could smuggle him into her room. Heart thumping in her chest and fumbling with the keys, she turned the lock and quickly pushed him into her room. Her hands were visibly shaking, with nervousness or excitement, she couldn’t quite place. A pool of wetness was quickly forming between her legs, soaking her panties. She had never invited a man into her room. She wanted her Daddy to take her on her very own bed.
With the lights off and her skimpy string outlining her perky breasts, she pushed Daddy against the bedframe and climbed onto his lap, kissing him deeply as she squirmed. Once again she wanted to serve her Daddy with a renewed sense of subservience. She was lost in the heat of passion as she felt both of their lusts blossoming uncontrollably. Forcing herself onto her Daddy while she was on his lap was her biggest subtle power move. She loved to ride her Daddy, the friction between their legs pushing her towards great heights of pleasure. Having him twist her delicate nipples between his fingers enthralled her to no end. She made it known to her Daddy that he was pleasing her, and in turn, doing her best to please him by eliciting sensual moans of approval. Within a matter of minutes, she could feel a tidal wave of euphoria rolling within her body, swelling and distorting.
I’ve been seeing Levi for a while now. He’s a big guy: over a foot taller than I am, and a former athlete. Long hair, scratchy facial hair, beautiful smile. Tooootal babe, and that’s just his appearance; his awesome personality would be a whole post on its own. I’m getting sidetracked just thinking about it, but I came here to write about hot and slutty sex so that’s what I’m going to do. As a side note: I feel very safe with Levi, and this experience followed a conversation about wanting to explore free use.
Levi and I are both students at the same university; study space is limited in *all* of our campus buildings (terrible designs and over-capacity), and as students we’re always perpetually roaming for open spots. There’s a conference room right outside my department’s faculty offices; the conference room has huge floor-to-ceiling windows facing the hall, and while the glass is frosted along the middle, it isn’t at the bottom or top. (This will be important later.) People often walk right in looking for a study space or meeting place, because the doors are permanently unlocked. And that’s exactly what I was doing, looking for a free study space after class, when I opened the door and found Levi sitting there with his stuff sprawled out around him. It had been a few days since we’d seen each other, and I brought my books in to join him. Of course the studying only lasted for a few minutes at best; once I gave him a kiss, how could I resist giving him several more? And once we started kissing, wasn’t it just easier to sit in his lap rather than in my own chair?
I met my Sir in January after I had been browsing CL with dismal results when I found his ad. He gave no indication of what kind of lover he would be, no picture was attached but I kept rereading it. Something about it drew me to him so I sent him a message saying I was interested.
After introductions and chatting for a week or so we decided to meet in public. I had given him a brief description of what I was wearing and set off to meet him for coffee. He tapped me on the shoulder, recognizing me immediately. I knew as soon as I saw the way he was looking at me I was going to fuck him. My hands shook as I tried to grab cash to pay for my coffee. His gaze was intense and hungry. It made me so nervous and excited. He handed over a few bills and we went to the second level of the coffee shop for privacy.
The sound of crunching leaves and tiny twigs snapping under my small tennis shoes thrill me. The tart smell off moss and musky air of decaying wood fill my chest. My slender fingers clasped in his hand as he leads me trustingly, deeper in. The soft fabric pressing against my fluttering eyelids denying me the view.
I will the sounds and smells to fill me up as he guides me over and under what I envision to be scrapey branches and gnarled roots. His careful silence amplifies the sound of the varied bird calls and the leaves rustling in the warm afternoon breeze.
Coming to a stop in front of me, he guides me by my waist and lowers me down to sit. The stone beneath me is cool and shaded. Taking my left ankle in his hand, he slides off my shoe and places my foot on the spongy fragrant moss beneath me. Repeating the gentle act on my right foot, he then clasps my hands in my lap and tilts my chin up to kiss me sweetly before stepping away into the ether.
Longtime lurker who does a lot of CNC in private life. I love taking women and having my way with them. Nothing turns me on more. I warn you, this isn’t for everyone.
After lurking so long, I’m going to share a recent experience. I usually do CNC with a girlfriend, but othertimes, and this is one of them, I do it with people I meet online. She and I lived in the same town in Texas right on the border. She had a fantasy she wanted to live out, and I was happy to give her it. After exchanging a some messages, we met in a coffee shop and made our plan. She told me what she liked and was into, which was a fantasy of being taken and raped in her home, tied up, and forced to orgasm repeatedly, choked, slapped, and verbally degraded. We agreed on boundaries, like no blood, urine, scat, fisting, or permanent marks. To make it realistic, we wouldn’t have a safeword, which meant she really had no control. This is the difference between roleplay or regular bondage, and living out a realistic rape fantasy. I know it’s not for everyone, but in my experience, makes it come alive. Lastly, I saw to my legal and physical protection. First, because a real rape fantasy doesn’t involve condoms, she showed me a recent STD test to prove she was clean, just like actresses in the porno industry. I have had a vasectomy, so no worries about getting her pregnant. Next, I had her sign ahead of time a couple legal documents consenting to what we discussed and our plan. I could see how excited and anxious she was as we went over this, and I was fucking hard.
The click-clacking of her heels echoed through the hallway, phone held up to catch her face just below her eyeline, mug in hand and a playful smile across her lips. She brought her badge up to the card reader sounding the familiar beep, pulling open the door while taking care not to spill her tea. Strolling through the threshold into the office, she could barely believe she was back. She had been dying to leave for the longest time and was so relieved when she finally made her escape. But it wasn’t too long before they were begging her to come back, the office an absolute mess without her. She obliged with the stipulation that it would only be temporary, as she valued her sanity much more than any amount of money they’d pay her. And so she was making her way back to that familiar desk, more drab now, stripped of any personal touches cleared out by her prior exodus.