The Meeting #MasturbationMonday

Selfie taken on the coach heading to see H


So, you might have seen some of my ridiculously horny posts over the last few weeks. They were all inspired by H who I have been waiting patiently (well, sorta patiently) to play with for…well, ever.

We met quite by coincidence and from a little flirting things developed. We have shared some very hot words via messages (cyber sex if you’re my age, sexting if you’re younger) and last time I saw them we shared some achingly hot kisses especially the ones where they pulled my hair at the same time.

I was counting down the days ‘til April, when we’d pencilled in a day together billed as ‘Lunch and Lust.’  There was nervousness, of course but mostly I was excited. When they opened the door to me, I just felt my face lift with a smile. Moments later they were kissing me with such passion I could barely see straight.

And I didn’t even drop the bag that was in my hand as their kisses ravaged me, primal, savage, hands in my hair, on my body, squeezing and slapping and…walking off to the kitchen to check the soup.

Took me a moment to catch my breath, work out who I was, you know, that kind of thing. When I had, I stood in the kitchen doorway and watched them. I really find someone cooking for me hot and H has this wonderfully intense look when they’re concentrating. Their lips are held tight, they look down their nose and they look all imperial and there’s a little hint of arrogant disdain and…yeah. I was turned on by the kissing, the cooking got me even hotter.

We were chatting, I remember that, then their hand was around my throat and I was pressed up against the kitchen door and they were kissing me so hard and so intensely I thought my knees were going to give way.

The last time I’d seen H, I’d worn my red, zip up dress. They noticed and commented how they had wanted to unzip it and ravage me then and there. So, weirdly enough, I was wearing that same dress.

“I think you’re wearing that dress on purpose” they said, toying with the zip in the centre of my cleavage.

“Maybe,” I replied in my sweetest voice.

They ripped down the zip, squeezed and pummelled my breasts, lifting one from the confines of my bra, slipped their hand around to the small of my back and leaned in beside my ear.

“Filthy slut.”

I melted and they ran their hand down the front of my body and grabbed my cunt through my clothes, I mewled.

“Dirty Whore.”

Their hand slipped inside my clothes, their fingers gripped into my cunt and I couldn’t breathe I was so turned on.

They brought their sodden fingers up to my mouth, I could smell me, they were so close I knew they could smell me too and H put their fingers into my mouth and I sucked eagerly, tasting my arousal. They kissed me and I knew they’d be tasting my cunt juices and I flushed at the thought.

They growled in my ear, I felt the noise reverberating through my whole body and I remember grabbing hold of the door handle because I honestly thought I was going to collapse I was just so overwhelmed by lust.

“I think you deserve to be punished.” H said.

“Me?” I whimpered, as sweet as I could manage.

“Yes, I’m going to tie you up, naked.” They paused. Their performance experience means they’re wonderfully good at timing.

“Then not hit you.”

“Noooooooooooo,” I whined, “you wouldn’t be that mean.”

They smiled at me, that hot as fuck sadistic smile…and went to check on the soup.

I don’t remember quite where the conversation went then, I was just a whole swirling pool of horny want, but I remember something H said.

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m just cooking. You’re the one half naked in someone else’s kitchen.”

I blushed. I blushed so red and they took great delight in that.

And secretly, so did I because as much as I feel so very embarrassed in the moment and I want to hide my face with my hands and disappear…I also love it. I love being teased and tested and pushed to the point where I feel shame when I know the other person is thoroughly getting off on it. On what has happened.

I think I had approximately half a second to recover before they were on me again. Kissing and biting me all over, showing me how they could do all kinds of things to me by pressing down on pressure points in weird and wonderful places – like the back of my ears. Holy fucking ow. They grabbed my hair and marched me through to the front room. I didn’t know what was coming next, I was worried about tripping over my own feet but excited to see where we’d end up. I ended up pushed over the end of the sofa.

My leggings were dragged down without any care or thought and I was spanked, hard. I moaned at first then yelped, then moaned again as they pummelled me with their fists. One of my shoes fell off, the other dangled from my toes.  As they forced their fingers between my thighs and fingered me. I was so wet, I just crooned my satisfaction. Completely at their mercy.  They buried their face between my thighs and ate me, their fingers buried into my hips. I was putty in their hands.

They sat on the sofa and I just lay across them, burying my face in their side as they spanked and slapped, poked and fingered me into a mess of compliance. I could feel their erection against my breast, an extra sign they were as turned on as I which fanned the flame of my own arousal.

It was at this point they, quite artfully yet forcefully rolled me onto the floor, where I sprawled and waited. They were soon over me, between my thighs, lips on mine, kissing me so forcefully, no grace, no gentleness just raw passion.  Whispered endearments…well, they’re endearments to me…Filthy slut, dirty whore and they like. They followed their words and kisses with bruising bites along my jaw and down onto my neck matched with growls that just stunned me to stillness and pushed me to the edge of ecstasy. And when their fingers filled me, I pushed over that edge, and even further when they moved lower, ripped down my leggings and knickers ‘til they hung off one leg and proceeded to kiss, lick, suck and bite me to orgasm.

Then I watched as they stood up and loomed over me.

I have never felt such a visceral moment of explicit power exchange before. There was no doubting who was in charge. I felt small, I felt weak, I felt compliant. And I knew, I knew before they did it exactly what was coming next. I looked up into their eyes and I read there what they were thinking, something they’d said on a couple of occasions they wanted to do.

They turned my cheek with their toes, until the other was flat on the floor and they pressed their whole foot into my cheek. I glanced up and I saw the recognition in their eyes, that the reality lived up to the imagining.  That I looked pretty with their foot pressing my face into the floor.

They used their feet to move me around. Standing on my limbs, restraining me, then using their toes to press into pressure points that made me wriggle all over the floor.  Turning me inwards and outwards, one moment, they were balanced on one foot, just the barest pressure of one toe of the other foot pressed into a pressure point on my leg. It was agony, sweet agony.

And they stood above, mocking me. Telling me it was only one toe, ever so gently resting and I recognised that smile, that smile that I saw so often that day. The one that took great, sadistic pleasure in not just my pain but in my submission, not just in my cries and whimpers but in my silent begging glances as I gave up everything into their control.

I have never held much if any desire to be kicked, but actually, it’s pretty fucking awesome. Especially when the kicks are aimed squarely at my cunt. Paingasm. Not the only one, the pressing of pressure points, most nowhere even remotely ‘sexual’ had me coming.

I felt gloriously filthy, there, being controlled by nothing more than their feet on me.

I’m hazy, but I’m sure they then joined me on the floor, on top of me, holding me down, kissing me ‘til I couldn’t breathe, spitting on my face, smearing it across my cheek and driving home their dominating power over me.

Being spat on actually turns me waaaaaaayyyy on. Who knew?

“Come Here.” H beckoned, getting up and moving to sit on the sofa. I crawled over.

“Suck my dick.” They commanded, pulling their erection from their fly and I did, eagerly bending in to kiss and gently lick at the head of their cock. I put all my gratitude, all my submission, all my love into lavishing their dick with kisses, licks and sucks. I murmured with satisfaction as I sucked them, feeling them throb and pulse against my tongue, wanting to get them as far into my mouth as I could. I felt so good when I heard them moaning appreciatively, when I felt them straining towards me.

They pulled my head back off their cock and before I could be too disappointed commanded me to suck their balls. Which I did eagerly as they wanked, watching their fist working up and down their length, listening to the catch of their breath, the moans and sighs.

They offered me their cock as they came and I eagerly sucked, devouring their sweet, saltiness, revelling in the taste of their ecstasy. They smiled down at me and pulled me up to kiss them. More gentle now, more give and take…a thank you between us both.

“So, I was offering you a drink…” They laughed.

“Yeah, I’d really appreciate that drink now, thanks” I replied. We laughed. Both recognising the passion that had carried us away, stripping away everything else but the need for each other, the lust that had been boiling away between us for so long that had demanded to be sated.

I knew it was only the beginning. I couldn’t wait for more.


And if you can’t wait for more, the second part of Lunch and Lust is available now: The Eating.

Selfie taken on my return home




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