Epic Birthday Sex [m/f] | 2016

Shortly after moving south for my first job out of college I found myself in a relationship rather quickly. He was the mechanic that I wrote about in a previous story that I ended up meeting when my car started acting funny and needed to be serviced. After that first encounter and exchange of oral favors, we subsequently started spending more time together and things between us progressed rather quickly.

Up until this point I had considered myself pretty well versed in the sexual realm but he definitely expanded my horizons in certain aspects. Freshman year of college was when I started experimenting with anal at the behest of my then boyfriend, I had developed a cum fetish as early as high school, and I had always encouraged spanking and a bit of manhandling, but the mechanic really brought out the submissive and masochistic side of me that I had previously only scratched the surface of.

It started out slowly with him easing me into it during playtime by taking control of my pleasure and denying my orgasms, telling me I wasn’t allowed to cum just yet. At first if I’d cum without permission he would chuckle and say I must’ve really been enjoying his ministrations since I couldn’t help myself, but after being together awhile and developing trust he began to talk about punishment for lack of obedience concerning cumming when permitted. It wasn’t long until I was craving his instruction and retribution as it always extended my pleasure. It became a personal mission for the both of us to see how much I could take and how long I could hold off.

I found I liked being ordered around and taken advantage of, to feel a complete lack of control. He treated my body as if it were something to be explored and he exploited my reactions to his inquisitive and provocative touch as a means to stoke his own arousal. He definitely got off on the power I let him have, and I got off on giving myself over to him, testing my physical limits, and seeing what new and unthinkable things could elicit a gratifying response and get my pussy throbbing.

I loved that he loved having and using my body and taking ownership of it not just for his own pleasure, but because he wanted to discover all the ways I could receive satisfaction and see just how far he could corrupt my idea of what that actually entailed.

The intensity of it was what was amazing. That after awhile any kind of touch from him, harsh or gentle and the juxtaposition between receiving punishment and then being soothed, could leave me wet and wanting, begging for more.

There were times that he would torture my nipples and breasts until I was red and raw and aroused beyond what you would believe was possible, or slap and face fuck me until I was choking and tears were streaming down my cheeks while simultaneously my cunt was aching and weeping, leaving trails of wetness down my thighs.

I loved it. I loved what he could force my body and mind to experience despite the situation. I loved the harshness and the unique intensity of the ensuing gentle touches on my abused and sensitive skin, and that it was always accompanied by a look of veneration. He always wanted to physically feel the heat of the glow radiating from my inflamed skin and examine the fruits of his labor having been allowed to ruin the perfect picture of a woman that I put on daily for the rest of the world.

It’s funny because I have a pretty strong and in control personality in real life and at work, but at my apartment or his house, and if I wasn't stressed out and trying to accomplish something, I was eager to let that control slip away. Of course I wasn't always up for it considering real life does sometimes require attention. If I wasn't, I made it plain. At the same time I made it obvious when I was his to do with what he pleased.

I enjoyed taunting and teasing him purposefully until I was more than happy to feel him grab me by the back of the neck, around the throat, or by the hair and pull me back into him, throw me down, or pin me up against a wall to start the torture. I always enjoyed my punishment for being a naughty little provocative slut but none so much as the time when I gave myself over to him for his birthday.

I had been away on business for a week and a half, and for the two days I had been home things were pretty hectic and we hadn’t really had time to catch up like we needed to except for some blow jobs and one little night time quickie when he stayed over at my apartment. Still, it was almost too quick to be completely satisfying because I had been catching up on work from home, it was late when he finally insisted on dragging me to bed, and we both had to work the next day. So when the weekend and his birthday rolled around I knew it was going to be good, just not how good.

I beat him to his house that Friday and took a quick shower just to rinse off and freshen up. I fixed my make up and hair and changed into an older tan silk camisole and matching pair of shorts that I sometimes slept in, but I put on a thong and a pair of black pantyhose first. My selection was pre meditated because I knew of his pantyhose kink from experience and that he enjoyed ripping clothes off me but never would anymore if I wasn’t in PJ’s because of the one time early on in the relationship when I freaked out after he ripped an expensive Alexander McQueen skirt. I wanted to wear something that I didn’t care what happened to as my plan was to let him do what ever he wanted and I wanted to be prepared for what that might entail.

When I heard his truck pull in the driveway and the garage door open, I met him at the door and was happy to see a small smile on his face as he got out and looked me over, asking what the occasion was since his birthday wasn’t until Sunday. I just smiled and told him his present started now and with me and watched as he approached only to pause in front of me on the stairs leading up into the house and let his hand trail up my leg before questioning what exactly his present was.

When I told him I was his present and he could have me any which way he wanted, he didn’t waist any time. He nodded grinning and silently turned me around by the hips while still in the doorway, surveying me and letting his hands wander. Once my back was to him he abruptly and forcefully made me bend over before yanking down my silk shorts to expose my ass and telling me kick them away because I wouldn’t be needing them.

He stood there for a moment just running his hands over my panty hose covered backside and thighs, growling slightly and spreading me a bit before smacking me really hard and telling me to turn back around to face him. I listened and when he told me to take off my shirt I did that too, throwing it back into the house so I was standing topless with only pantyhose on in the doorway with the garage door open, him chortling down at me even from a step below.

He stepped back down the steps to expose me more, and while standing there in the garage tilted his head and asked if I really meant it when I said he could do what he wanted. I sort of blinked at the question but nodded, and when I did he smirked and started back up the stairs and into the house, reaching for something off the wall as he did before hitting the button to close the garage door and usher me inside.

It wasn’t until we were back in the kitchen that I saw him throw rope onto the table. I was staring at it slightly worried when he picked me up and set me on the edge of the tabletop facing him.

He stepped in between my legs and grabbed me by the back of the neck to tilt my head up and kiss me deeply before pushing me backwards and telling me to lie down, laughing amusedly at my dubious expression as I complied. He didn’t stop to offer any assurances as he used kitchen shears to cut lengths of the rope and secure each of my limbs to one of the four legs of the table. We hadn’t fooled around with too much bondage before, but I did find myself anticipating what was going to happen with a sort of anxious but intrigued trepidation.

I was already breathing rather hard when he walked to the side of the table my feet were tied to and leaned over to grab two handfuls of the pantyhose covering my pussy and ripped a large hole open. He didn’t stop there though, instead he seized the crotch of my thong and yanked on it hard with both hands until it too ripped. Then of course he pulled it down to rip the waistband free so he could fully remove the thong without taking off the pantyhose. Once it was completely destroyed and no longer covering my now saturated lower lips, he dragged the fabric through my juices and made his way to the head of the table where he forced the satin into my mouth to work as a pretty useless gag considering there wasn’t much to it.

From his position there hovering above me he looked down and over all of me, his eyes scanning my whole body before coming back to lock with my eyes. He was smirking slyly, telling me how delicious I looked all laid out for him and that he knew I was probably desperate for him to start but I was going to have to be patient considering he needed to shower and get the grease off his hands from work before he could play.

I was kind of in shock as I leaned my head back to watch him walk off down the hall before hearing him enter his bedroom and then turn on the water to start the shower. Frustration mounting, unable to believe he would just leave me there tied down I pulled on the ropes for the first time and was surprised at not only how tight they were, but how abrasive they were as well.

Being forced to wait there, completely spread eagle and prone was definitely something I had never experienced before. Still, there was an eroticism to it that was unexpected. Anyone could’ve walked in and I wouldn’t have been able to do a fucking thing about it, and knowing that I was truly and completely at his mercy was strangely thrilling. He could leave me there all night and tease me but not get me off once, go out without me, torture me cruelly by making me watch him get himself off and not let me touch him, bring another person there to toy with me. The possibilities were endless really and my imagination had me so ready for him.

By the time he finally made his way back to me in nothing but his plaid pajama pants I felt like I might burst if he didn’t touch me. I knew he wanted to, he was looking at me hungrily and when he met my eyes I plead with him nonverbally to just take me but he didn’t. He remained stoic and instead did the most frustrating thing that I am inclined to believe he could possibly think of in that moment. He turned his back on me and reached for the Lucky Charms sitting out on the counter to make himself a bowl of cereal. Then of course he sat down at the table with me on top of it and started to eat while refusing to look me in the eye, though he was taking in the view looking contemplative.

To me it seemed like the bowl was endless mostly due to the lack of attention I was being paid, but he’d probably only taken five or six bites before he paused with the spoon at his lips and decided it would be a good idea to hold it out over my tummy and let the cold milk and cereal slowly dribble onto my stomach. Anything at that moment probably would’ve stimulated me but the irony that it was fucking Lucky Charms getting me excited was not overlooked.

Again and again he spooned cereal onto my belly and over my breasts and neck. He paid particularly close attention to trying to get the shapes and marshmallows to stick to my erect nipples and it wasn't until there was nothing left in the bowl that he finally looked up at me self-satisfied.

With the remains of my thong still in my mouth I couldn’t help but look at him pleadingly and he finally complied with my begging as he leaned over excruciatingly slowly and latched onto one of my nipples, finally touching me properly.

The fact that I had been waiting so long for that touch seemed to heighten the sensation and I couldn’t help but thrust my chest up into his face. He sniggered at my desperation through a mouthful of Lucky Charms but looked up at me as he continued eating the cereal off of me, nibbling and biting and sucking and causing me to writhe in desperation even as he paused to laugh at one point and wipe his chin while twisting one of my nipples until I whimpered a bit. It was definitely a different kind of torture and he made sure to make certain my frustration was reaching all new levels by letting his teeth graze my skin as he ate off of me and let his tongue lap up the milk as best he could.

I thought he was done with the food after it was all gone but I was proved wrong when he got up and set his bowl in the sink then opened the fridge to pull out the milk, proceeding to take a large swig out of the carton while walking back over to me. He didn’t say a word as he slowly began to pour the milk over me, focused on my breasts with an enthralled and intense look in his eyes as stared me down.

There wasn’t that much left in the carton but it was shockingly frigid compared to the spoonfuls of cereal. The feel of the startlingly cold liquid hitting my skin, rolling over my breasts and down my neck and stomach, completely coating me, had my eyes bulging and my chest heaving trying to stop myself from shivering. It was hard to concentrate on anything else but the cold, yet somehow off to the side I noticed a twitch in his pants, unable to believe that he was having a physical reaction to seeing me like this and really just dying to feel him.