BABY GIRL Let's Be Honest, Page 3

  “Tell me to do something sexual, I can’t believe you’re a Dom,” she clarified.

  “What do you mean? Tell you to do something?” I asked.

  “I want you to tell me to do something. I’m feeling frisky,” she said as she placed her wine glass on the table beside the sofa.

  At that particular moment, I was not thinking about sex, and she caught me off guard. We had not been talking about sex. I had expected the conversation eventually would become a sexual one, but it had not yet.

  “You want me to…” I didn’t finish before she interrupted.

  “Tell me to suck your dick,” she said.

  “Cock, I like the word cock,” I chuckled.

  “Oh God, that’s hot. Tell me to do that,” she said.

  “You want me to tell you to suck my cock?” I asked.

  “Oh God,” she moaned as she slumped into the sofa.

  Well, this could work out to my benefit.

  “Are you drunk?” I asked.

  “No, I’m just frisky. I only had two glasses, why?” she asked.

  “Just making sure I wasn’t going to take advantage of a drunken woman,” I smiled.

  “Take advantage of me, you’re a Dom. That’s so hot,” she slumped a little lower.

  I stood from the sofa, turned and unzipped my pants.

  As I pulled my cock from my pants, she sat in the corner of the sofa and stared. I stroked it a few times, and held it in my hand. She stared at it as if she was drawn to it. My voice snapped her out of her trance.

  “Sit up and suck my cock like a good girl,” I said.

  “Oh God, yes master,” she said, scooting forward on the sofa.

  “Sir, call me sir,” I stated, still stroking my cock.

  She scooted to the edge of the sofa, and leaned down, taking my cock in her hand. She began to stroke it, staring at the tip. After several seconds of licking the tip and shaft, she began to suck my balls.

  “I just love it that you shave your balls. I love sucking balls,” she said, looking up into my eyes.

  She immediately went back to sucking my balls.

  “Suck my cock, you little submissive bitch,” I said sternly.

  “Oh, yes sir,” she said as my balls popped out of her mouth.

  Immediately she began sucking my cock, forcing it into her throat and gagging on it with each stroke.

  “It turns me on to gag on your big dick,” she said as she pulled her mouth off of tip.

  “Cock, don’t ever call it a dick again, you little bitch,” I demanded.

  She forced it deeply into her mouth, moaning the entire time. Each stoke of her mouth produced a convulsing action from her throat. After three or four strokes of her mouth, she pulled away again.

  “You want to cum in my mouth?” she asked, her eyebrows raised as she stroked my slippery cock.

  “I’ll cum wherever I want, do you understand that?” I asked.

  “Oh, God. Yes sir,” she responded.

  Immediately she went back to gagging on my cock.

  “Take off your pants, and shirt. Get those big titties out, you little bitch,” I demanded.

  “Oh God. Yes sir,” she snapped.

  As soon as she was undressed, I reached around her thighs and picked her up, holding her upper body against mine.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” I demanded.

  “Oh, hell yes. Are you going to hold me up and fuck me?” she asked as she wiggled her way up my upper thighs.

  I shuffled to the wall, my pants around my ankles. I pressed her against the wall and forced myself inside of her.

  “Oh. Oh. Oh. That feels so goooood,” she said slowly.

  With her back to the wall, her legs were wrapped around my waist. I forced myself into her. She was beginning to irritate me for some reason, and I wanted to fuck her senseless and leave her in a pile on the floor.

  “Fuck me, sir. Oh yes. Fuck me. Yes, yes, yes,” she screamed as I tried to situate her body to a position that promoted penetration.

  “Hold fucking still, God fucking damn,” I barked.

  As she stopped wiggling, I hoisted her by the thighs, lifting her slightly. As soon as her ass was in a location that it fit against my thighs, I pressed hard against her thighs with my hips, forcing my cock deep into her.

  “Oh god, that’s so deep,” she moaned.

  Great I have her right where I want her.

  I began to pound her as hard as I could, stroking her with as much as I could of my cock. I found a rhythm, and forced myself harder into her. I began to pound as hard as I could, forcing her head to pound against the wall.

  “I’m going to cum…I’m…” she sighed loudly.

  I continued to pound away, her back and head slapping against the wall.

  “I…I…” she moaned.

  I pounded harder, holding her ass in my hands, with her legs around my waist.

  “Oh God, I…” she screamed as she began to cum.

  I pulled her away from the wall as she was having an orgasm. Holding her ass in my hands, I lowered and raised her as I thrust my hips upward. Her eyes opened wide as she accepted my entire length.

  After she came again, I lowered her to the floor. She stood in front of me, her legs shaking.

  “I need to sit, that was incredible,” she said.

  “Get down on your knees and open your mouth,” I demanded.

  Exhausted and shaking, she reluctantly got on her knees.

  “Open your mouth,” I said.

  I started stroking my cock, the tip inches from her face.

  “Play with those big titties of yours,” I said as I stroked it.

  As she began to roll her nipples between her fingers and her thumbs, I closed my eyes. As I felt myself begin to climax, I opened my eyes and grabbed her forehead with one hand, tilting her head back.

  “Open it,” I said, out of breath.

  As she opened her mouth I began to cum.

  Typically, I do not cum during sex, ever. I reserve my orgasms for times and places that I want to enjoy them. This was one of those times. As I began to cum, I groaned….releasing three weeks of semen into her mouth. She gagged as it dripped from her mouth onto her tits.

  I continued to stroke my cock, freeing a few more spurts onto her face and lips. As I finished, I slipped the tip into her already full mouth, forcing her to swallow all that I had placed there.

  “Suck it clean like a good little girl,” I said as I pressed it into her throat.

  Her eyes opened wide.

  As she sucked and licked my cock, I laughed to myself.

  As she finished, she looked as me for acceptance. I smiled a false smile of reassurance. She stood, smiled and turned toward the bathroom.

  As I pulled my pants up, she walked to the bathroom to clean up. I realized as she was in the bathroom that her good looks didn’t and wouldn’t make up for her irritating sexual behavior, and childish antics.

  “Oh wow, you cum a lot,” she said as she walked out of the bathroom.

  I smiled and nodded as I sat on the sofa.

  “Seriously, I have never seen so much,” she chuckled, “is it always so…well.”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty typical,” I said over my shoulder.

  She leaned toward me and hugged me from the side as she laid her head on my shoulder.

  “I’m going to have to get, I’ve got to get up early,” I said as she looked up at me from her resting spot.

  “But, you said you didn’t have a job, can’t you stay?” she asked.

  “No, I’m going to have to go,” I said as I stood, realizing I had devoted an entire day to this woman.

  Without a doubt, this would be our first and last meeting.

  “Really? You can’t stay?” she asked.

  “No, I really have to get. I just realized, we’ve been together since one o’clock today, it’s late,” I responded.

  “Okay, when will I see you next?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, we’ll s
ee. I’ll call you,” I responded.

  I never did. My phone for the next two weeks, was receiving a text every ten minutes. After the first two days, I didn’t respond to any of them. I continued to get a text every ten minutes for about two weeks.

  She, through her text messages, had stated that we were bound to each other through our sex. The fact that we had sex, according to her, bound us together. We were committed to each other.

  The thought of someone thinking that bothered me. If she had been somewhat more sensible, I may have spent a little more time having sex with her. This behavior and the hundreds of unanswered text messages left me a little uneasy. I knew after this woman, it may be a while before I committed to have sex with another woman.

  Quite a while.

  ERIK. The thought of the fear that Lisa put in me was disturbing then, and was even more so now. She was confirmation that I had no business fucking with a woman that I had no intention on actually being with for any period of time. I had forgotten about her. How soon we forget the people in our past that we should remember forever…and not for good reasons.

  I flipped through the pages looking at names and events, none of which rang a bell.

  Until.

  Serena.

  Oh, Serena.

  NAME: SERENA PARSONS

  AGE: 25

  STATS: 5’-3” petite, half Filipino

  ACCOMPLISHMENTS: training as a sub

  Serena was the first person I felt like I was ever in any form of relationship with. I had graduated college, and was back in Wichita. I met her immediately after my mother had passed away.

  We met through one of the members of the motorcycle club. She was a friend of the wife of a member, and was introduced at a summer gathering. Immediately, I was drawn to her submissive appearance as I observed her actions.

  She had apologized to almost everyone within earshot for something. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you. My apologies, I didn’t realize you were reaching for that.

  I worked my way through the crowd at the beer keg and introduced myself. We quickly began a conversation about cars. I had just purchased my first BMW. She had been driving a BMW for some time, and we started talking about our opinions regarding the vehicles.

  A short conversation revealed that she was truly submissive, yet did not realize it. I immediately had every intention of bringing it to her attention. She and I were together, if you could call it that, for almost nine months.

  “Why do you say that,” she asked.

  “Because you are,” I responded.

  “But how can you be sure,” she asked.

  “Well, I am not sure, but everything indicates…”

  “What’s everything,” she asked.

  “Your actions, behaviors…”

  “We just met, you haven’t seen me do anything,” she interrupted.

  “Can I have the freedom to touch you?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want to touch you, but I don’t want to if it makes you uncomfortable,” I explained.

  “Yeah, sure. To prove a point, I suppose. Yeah, go ahead,” she agreed.

  We had walked away from the keg, and were talking beside some of the motorcycles, a distance from most of the other people attending. I reached up slowly and placed my hand on her neck lightly.

  “How does that make you feel?” I asked.

  “Your hand?”

  I nodded.

  “Indifferent. Nothing,” she responded.

  I tightened my grip and leaned close to her ear.

  “I want to shove you down onto your knees, and watch you suck my big cock like a good girl. Watching you do that would please me greatly. You want to suck my big cock and make me very happy, don’t you?” I asked.

  “Right here?” she turned her head and asked.

  I nodded.

  She turned her head slowly and looked around the crowd. As she looked back in my direction, she shrugged.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Maybe over by the trees,” she offered.

  I let go of her neck.

  “What? Not what you wanted to hear?” she asked.

  “No, I proved my point,” I said.

  “What? How does that even prove anything?” she asked.

  “How did that make you feel when I squeezed your neck and whispered into your ear?” I asked.

  “It was a huge turn-on,” she responded, “what did you expect?”

  “Well, it was what I expected, but it isn’t typical,” I laughed.

  “Of who?” she asked.

  “Of anyone that isn’t submissive,’ I answered.

  She took a sip of her beer, “Whatever.”

  “Whatever? You seriously think that wanting to drop to your knees and suck a guy’s cock that you never met before is typical?” I asked.

  “Well, now that you put it that way, I don’t know. But you squeezing my neck and whispering in my ear was hot. I probably would have done about whatever you asked or told me to, I’m gonna guess,” she said.

  “Well, that’s submissive behavior,” I chuckled.

  “Well, if you say so, I guess so. So what now?”

  “I’d like to know more about you. It’s Serena, right?” I asked, knowing the answer.

  “Yeah. Parsons. Serena Parsons, and you are?”

  “Ead, Erik Ead.” I extended my hand.

  She took my hand into hers and squeezed lightly. As she did, she looked up and made eye contact. It wasn’t typical for what I was used to in a woman this age, but submissive behavior set aside, she had a nice polite personality, great posture, and a fabulous body. She was extremely small, but very well proportioned for her size.

  “So, you want to go out some time this week?” I asked.

  “During the week is bad for me. The weekend, sure,” she responded.

  “Weekend it is,” I muttered as I pulled my phone from my back pocket.

  “Blackberry, huh?” she laughed, “who carries those things anymore?”

  “I hate spending money on phones,” I laughed, “let me get your number.”

  The first night we had sex was an interesting one. I was determined to prove to her that she was submissive. I thought as we were driving to the bar after eating of ways to test her submissive limits.

  “So, you want to go back to your house?” she asked.

  “It’s being remodeled,” I lied, “It’s nowhere near presentable.”

  “Well. We could go to my apartment,” she offered.

  “Bar or apartment?” I asked.

  She looked like she was contemplating her answer.

  “Turn on Oliver you remember how to get there?” she asked as she pointed north on Douglas.

  “Yes, I remember,” I answered as I turned on Oliver and drove toward her apartment.

  I looked around the apartment as I stood in the living room. A chair, love seat, and a sofa were in the fairly large living area. The kitchen was open to the rest of the house, and consisted of a bar style eating area. The bar was littered with four stools.

  “Come here,” I said as I walked to the kitchen.

  “Excuse me?” she asked.

  “Come here, into the kitchen,” I demanded.

  She naturally followed right behind me.

  “Sit down,” I said as I pointed to the stool I had pulled away from the bar.

  “You want me to…”

  I interrupted before she finished, “Sit.”

  She hoisted herself onto the stool and sat, facing me. She looked curiously into my eyes.

  “And?”

  “Sit for now. That’s it, let me think,” I said as I looked around the apartment.

  “Pull your shirt off. Here, let me help you,” I said.

  She raised her arms. I lifted her shirt off of her torso and over her head. I set the shirt on the island and unfastened her bra. As I pulled her bra over her arms, she covered her breasts with her arms.

  “Put your arms down,” I said s
ternly.

  “They’re tiny,” she responded.

  “They’re sexy.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Yes, quite. Your body is incredible,” I said.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

  “Thank you,” she said as she relaxed her arms to her sides.

  “Listen. I want you to do certain things for me, Serena. I’m going to ask you to do things for me, tonight and whenever we see each other, okay?”

  She nodded.

  “I don’t want you to disappoint me, okay?”

  “I don’t want to disappoint you,” she responded.

  “That’s a good girl,” I said as I walked behind her.

  I placed my hands on her shoulders and leaned forward. I pulled her hair away from her ear and whispered into it.

  “Your skin is perfect - so smooth. Your body, Serena, defines perfection. I’m going to push you, sexually. Mentally. Do you understand me?” I asked.

  She nodded her head slowly as I whispered into her ear.

  “Good. You’re making me happy, do you understand?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “Serena, I want you to step off the stool and take off your pants, okay? Are you wearing panties?”

  She nodded.

  “I want you to take off your panties and your pants, and get back on the stool, okay?” I whispered.

  She nodded again, and slid off of the stool onto the floor. She unbuttoned her pants, bent down, and pulled them from her feet. As she stood, she folded them and paced them on the island.

  “You’re such a good girl, Serena. Are you cold?” I breathed into her ear.

  She shook her head slowly.

  I had found out, by this point in time in my sexual experiences, that whispering brought me more favorable results than a demand or even speaking at a soft tone. There’s something about a whisper that’s difficult to argue with.

  “I’m going to spin you the other direction, Serena. I don’t want you to turn around, okay?” I whispered into her ear.

  She nodded.

  I turned the stool to face away from the kitchen, walked to the refrigerator and opened the freezer. Ice. Broccoli. Corn. A large package of chicken breasts. Popsicles.

  Popsicles.

  I pulled a yellow popsicle from the refrigerator.

  I pulled the wrapper and sucked on the popsicle as I walked back to the stool. As I walked in front of her, I pulled it from my mouth.