Sin's Story

!!ADULT MATERIAL!!

My alter ego has a life of her own. She thinks she can live through the written word. I guess if you can't have the body do your thing you gotta try something.
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Everybody has a thing. A hot button. A small or not so small twist that takes you from just enjoying the ride to blastoff. For some people it's the same thing every time, for others it changes. You, your thing is riding the paradox of surrender. I call it a paradox because it's not about submission or control. It's a subtlety that few can see, but not only do you see it, it gets you off like nothing else. Me, too. That's why I can't stop burning.

I always wondered if sex moved other people from here to everywhere like it does me. Seems like most people just want to get a nut and go home. Only a few want to slide into everywhere and hang for eternity, playing a virtuoso symphony on instruments that only appear corporeal.

You ask if I have time for a ride, you want to take me to one of your secret places. You say it's not really so secret anymore, people everywhere, but I know the secret comes with you. Besides, I know I'll ride to hell if you ask me. Not that you would. The question is only a question, assuming nothing, but I can already feel the rising tide that will someday drown me before it recedes again.

The way you handle the car turns me on, the same unassuming skill you have with me. Hell, the feel of a hot car puts me at the edge by itself. And the sun in my eyes and the rush of the air makes me drunk. A couple of tokes and I'm all speechless grin. You tease me about good weed but we both know why I'm tongue tied. You can't believe how you put me here so effortlessly. I can't believe that I let you, and that this is what you crave. I've learned to treat it as a weakness, hide it because it scares people and makes them worry I've got issues, but I don't have to hold back with you.

I forget how fast we are going until a couple of sunny old ladies look up, startled, and you slow down. Under a giant oak tree across two parking spots, I'm transfixed by the lake and pinned in place by the weight of being all the way open. I laugh to myself thinking what they must assume about us but when I float from the car they bless us with gentle smiles and head in the opposite direction.

With water lapping my feet I watch you wade in gleefully and I'm struck by the simplicity of your friendship. Mostly I avoid friends because it is so complicated to fit yourself into someone's script. I want to fly but mostly friendship is about staying safe on the ground together, protecting each other from the wide world. This makes me feel so empty that I am generally less alone being alone.

It doesn't seem sudden to find myself falling into you. We've intersected so far from the physical that my body is only an anchor, but when we touch the earth moves anyway. I know that later I will try to analyze why everything is so intense with you yet unassuming, unjealous, unfettered, but for now I can only keep flying. It's so primal that social conventions have no relevance, there is no possibility of civilized judgement, it just is what it is.

On the beach in the bright sunshine, under the potential gaze of strangers, it still doesn't feel presumptuous or even naughty when your hand finds my pussy. You tease me about wearing panties, a first in the time you've known me, but I'm way too far gone to banter. I struggle to stay on my feet, to remember that I need to look casual, while you unerringly find my rhythm and push me over the edge. We are both surprised by the speed and intensity, but the touch of your hand is only a focal point for the unspoken intimacy we can hardly rein in. You tell me how it's so hot that I'm weak-kneed and I stumble more.

You play this music so well, your words a ruthless counterpoint to the cadences of my soul expressed through this physical connection. I think I am growling, I know that my hips are begging for more of you, my hands urging you toward me, and you ask if I want you inside me. I think I manage to say something affirmative but I am so far gone that I can only watch your eyes for understanding. You know that I am utterly incapable of making functional decisions once I'm in this place, and I know that trusting you to bring me here, to the surrender, is a big part of the fire in you.

Again the simplicity of your caring for me, helping me straighten my clothes, taking my hand. Back to the car and I don't know what will happen next. You look for another place you remember was more secluded and I try to smoke a cigarette so I have something to do besides look like the basket case I am and think about other people's opinions. Long before I can smoke it you find the place, closed now, but the gate still far enough from prying eyes to stop.

Now you are more commanding, knowing I am miles too deep to conduct the orchestra. You tell me to lie back and again your hands find my pussy. You are so taken away by my wetness that I wonder what sterile sex other women must have. I am so taken away by you, yet your fresh awe sends another surge of desire through me. I am already exploding again and starting to float away from my body. When I say that you are going to make me pass out, you say if you do pass out, you'll damn sure find my dick inside of you when you wake up. I pray for please to come from my lips, pray to pass out, but you know what I need. Another timeless moment of watching my passion and you say, come on, get out.

Getting out of the car I realize that you know me better than I would have ever guessed. I am about to have a fantasy fulfilled and you don't even know how this simple fantasy has driven me through the years before we met. I find you at the back of the car and now you are almost rough. You spin me around to face the car, shove my jeans partway down and turn to your own clothes. I struggle to finish getting the damn pants out of the way as you push me down to hang on to the spoiler.

When you grab my hips I feel like I have lived and will continue to live this moment for eternity. Our flesh meets like an explosion yet you manage to draw out my agony for a breath longer before you push deep inside me. You fit me like you were made for me, touching every sweet spot with every thrust. I am past coherent thinking but still intellect has something to say. I marvel at your control... most men aren't very good at staying inside a woman from behind, but you never falter or slip.

Did time keep flowing past? I don't think more than a few minutes have passed but it feels like an eternity of steadily escalating explosions, my body become more than just my flesh, so that the shape and color of the world shimmer with the quakes inside me. I'm shocked with primal joy when you take a fistful of my hair. Even though I can't see your face I know your teeth are bared and I can feel you moving toward your own explosion.

I knew before I got in your car that I didn't want protection of any sort with you, let alone a little rubber barrier keeping skin from skin. (I know it isn't PC but hey, this is my fantasy life. At least I thought of it.) When you ask if you should pull out I think I might fall off the edge of the world if I don't get to feel you coming inside me. I'm begging no no no, don't stop, and you never hesitate.

Here language loses its ability to describe my experience. All I can say is that I can still feel our flesh clenching together, still hear my voice echoing as everything that is me melts into everything that is, was and ever will be. Such a bittersweet ache when I have to pull myself back in, close down to a civilized level, knowing that to stay open would be like falling into a lifelong acid trip... high can be transcendental, but only for so long before you fall over the cliff and shatter into a million pieces.

And funny here... it only adds beauty for me that you say, we better get our asses out of here after all that noise, and I'm zipping my pants and grinning from ear to ear and you kiss me and we run for the car doors like the law is on the way. I love the way we talk so casually about the thrill of us among other casual conversation and laughter and smoking and the feel of the road. I love the way you kiss me goodbye with significance for what we are together yet no stake in when we are apart or concern for when we will be together again. We both know somehow that we were already timeless.

A bad girl

I'm a bad girl. Just make sure you say that with a respectful growl when the time comes.

Your hands give you away, you know. You like to pretend that you aren't into anything particular, but I can tell that you are losing your mind. You take the glass of scotch, and a deep breath to keep yourself under control. I can feel the crackle of need in your fingers. You think I'm playing it cool through fear and you don't want to scare me away. You hope I'll give you what you need so badly, eventually. You don't know that I'm gonna do it now. Or at least do something so you'll know I'm the one who will.

I like letting you think that you are running this show. People need that. Maybe I'm fooling myself, but I'm pretty sure this game is mine anyway. You think I'm trying to catch a boyfriend, preferably a rich boyfriend, like all the others, that you'll have to play gentleman while you burn to ashes. You'll play gentleman alright, just not the way you're used to.

I'm burning, too. I think you can smell the heat when I take your arm and lead you into my office. Ice rattles in your glass as you try to compose your hands so they won't tell tales on you. You seem confused by the transition and more so when I show you to the big leather chair behind the desk. I sit in the dinky chair across from you and say nothing. I can feel fabric sliding against my nipples and hips, the straps of my shoes cutting into my feet, the heat in my bare pussy, the backs of my legs cold against the wood, my hair tickling and teasing. Already I am ready for you but you can't know that for sure. You want to leap across the desk but you sit there looking around the room, every now and then letting your eyes draw hot question marks in my flesh.

When you finally really see my collection you seem startled. I wonder if you are a little afraid of me and I like it. I still sit across from you, apparently unmoving, but I can tell that you notice the depth in my eyes and the way my lips seem to be waiting for you. You drink from your glass and it chatters as you put it down. You smooth your pants down your legs and try to control your eyes. Should I let you twist a while longer?

The moment hangs between us and I think I'm going to have to provoke you, but you finally can't take the nerves. You stand abruptly before meandering toward one of the tables, eyes roving around the room as if this were a museum. I consider briefly that you might turn and ask if I'm ready to go - we are supposed to be going to a show and it's getting late - but you let the moment pass as you pick up a curiosity of heavy glass.

"What do you use this for?" you say, as if the piece might truly be intended for keeping papers from blowing away or entertaining children on a rainy afternoon.

"What do you want me to use it for?"

You look at me intently, weighing the thing in your hand, weighing your chances of getting more than arm candy out of this evening. You say, "Can I be frank?" and I can't resist the old cheese: "Baby, you can be anybody you want here." Another moment drops like a stone into a well before you shake yourself and decide to take the chance.

"I want you to put it in your pussy and keep it there while we are out in public. Can you do that? I mean, can you keep it there? I mean, I'm really just talking out of my ass because you asked me what I want, I don't want to be..." but I stop you there with a smile.

"Bring it here." You look at the thing as if I must mean something else. I let my heels scrape across the floor as I open my legs a little. You watch me slowly drop my arms and take hold of the chair behind my back. I lick my lips and tilt my head back as the fire roars through me. I barely hear myself talking now, but you don't seem to notice that I'm melting. You somehow understand that you should put it where you want it to go.

You kneel before my chair like a schoolboy in trouble, but you hook your hands behind my knees and pull my ass to the edge of the chair as you spread me wide. You say, "Oh, you are so very bad. You should be careful you don't get into trouble."

Before I can say something smart, you slide your hand up my thigh and flip clothing out of the way. I'm surprised how easily you slip it inside me, more surprised when you taste me briefly before standing and pulling me up with you in one smooth motion. Your hands cup my ass and I can feel your dick straining against my belly as you ask me if I need something to keep it in there. I think you must mean panties, but I don't need anything and I can't seem to form words.

You ask me what it feels like, so I cock my leg up on your hip and slide my ass so that you can feel the slick heat in my pussy. I can tell you want to push your fingers into me but instead you clench my ass and spin me back toward the little chair. I grab the back of it to keep from stumbling. Your fingers twine through my hair and your teeth nip my neck before you push me over the chair. My bare ass is sticking up over the ladder back and I hold on to the seat with fire running up the backs of my legs.

You stand beside me, fingers screaming for flesh, and I wonder what you will do, what you need. You run your hand down the curve of my ass and lower still wet your fingers gently. I can hear you breathing heavy but you look like the picture of ease. Your other hand is tracing circles on the apple of my ass and I suspect you are thinking about it in stripes of red, or maybe that's just my jones. You say, "If there is a line I shouldn't cross, please point it out before I trip over it."

I say nothing as your hands keep circling. I wonder if you can feel the tremors under my skin, and wonder if we will actually go anywhere tonight. I wonder if I am giving you what you need or if I am just masturbating with a live prop. All the wondering makes me self-conscious and I start to say something but you move like a panther before I can form the words. With two fingers deep in my pussy, two in my ass and your thumb on my button, your other arm somehow supporting my body, you carry me to the big chair and dump us into it. I find myself face down across your lap with my ass in the air.

You haven't taken your hand from me. I realize that I'm fucking your fingers with abandon, I'm definitely losing control here, and I don't think I care. I can feel you rock hard under my belly when you reach across me for your drink. You take a sip and drops of icy water fall onto my back. You let the glass rest on my ass and drag cold, wet circles on my cheeks. Your fingers still play me. You are talking to me again and I understand that you are teasing me about what you might do to a girl as naughty as I am.

[What will you do to a girl as naughty as me? I'll be counting the moments until the next installment]