First In: Femdom Stories of First-time Strap-on Sex (6 page)

"On your knees, lover,"

"But you said tomorrow," I whined with a vague
smile, even as I obeyed her push and got on my hands and knees.

She got behind me.

"But your ass says now, now, now." She didn't
bother with a glove; she'd trimmed her nails short. I'd left the lube
half-opened, leaking goo onto her pillow; I groped after it, handed it over my
shoulder, and felt a cool slick stream joining the thick coat that still
greased my asshole.

I made girly sounds as her fingers worked into me. Carrie's
fingers were considerably narrower than mine; she got two, three, four in
there, easy as pie, and then before I even knew it a shockingly realistic dildo
was up against my asshole and my eyes went wide with momentary fright.

Then with a little push, my girlfriend entered me. The cock
was not enormous, but she had not gone mini, either; it was healthy in its
thickness and my asshole opened slowly. But she got it in, a little push,
another, another, another, sliding easily back and forth until Carrie's thighs
settled tight against mine and I could feel her cock all the way in my ass.

Between pulses of "Bolero," I heard a click, then
a buzz, felt a throbbing. Carrie moaned.

Holy fuck. She was going to fuck me till she came. Just like
a real assfucker -- just like me, in her ass, that gorgeous ass flexing and
releasing with every thrust of her cock into me, an ass filled with my cum --

I started stroking.

Carrie moaned louder, one hand steading herself on the small
of my back, the other working the wired vibrator, varying its pulses as she
teased herself to climax as the music built louder and louder to cacophony.

Then she came, her thick cock pounding deep inside of me,
her thrusts matched to the spasmodic jerks of her orgasm, shuddering pleasure
raging through her cock and into my ass. The assfuck gave every possible hint
of realism except her cum pumping -- and I provided that part, hot streams
shooting over my hand and arm, soaking the bed as I cried out. Whether she came
first or I did, I really don't know, because she was making noises for a good
long time as she drove me down into the bed and bit deep into the flesh of my
shoulder and neck, leaving hickeys, I was sure of it. When she was good and
done and sated, she switched the vibrator off and I felt the buzz dissipate.

We lay like that through another half-playing of the CD, as
Carrie's hot breath ruffled my hair and her fingers caressed my arms.

"Are we even, Jackie baby?"

"I don't know," I said. "You've got a pretty
awesome asshole, baby. Maybe a few more times should do it..."

With a little push, I eased her out of me.

It was early on the morning of our wedding anniversary when
Katie woke me up for a surprise strap-on fuck.

She did it the way she usually wakes me up...with her
perfect body rubbing up against mine and her beautiful lips uttering a feral
growl.

It's a sound that always tells me that Katie wants sex. And
Katie wants sex all the time...especially in the morning. Especially very early
in the morning.

This time, I don't just mean it was
early in the morning
.
I mean it was
motherfucking early in the fucking morning
, and Katie was
ready to fuck. Katie's a morning person, you see. She wakes up early and often,
and she always wants to cuddle when she does. And when I say
"cuddle," I mean "fuck."

That's where the problem begins. Katie rarely gets what she
wants because I'm her husband, and I’m
not
a morning person. In fact,
the very idea of sex in the morning bewilders me...most of the time.

Don't get me wrong; I get morning wood just like any other
healthy red-blooded man. In fact, most mornings I wake with a  boner,
which Katie often takes as an invitation to start stroking, sucking, or even
fishing around for a condom.

And most mornings, as long as Katie's willing to do all the
work, as far as I'm concerned she can go to town.

"Just don't wake me up," I often joke. But it's
really not a joke.

On the morning of our anniversary, though, my wife wouldn't
take no for an answer. She had her hands all over me, her tongue against my
naked chest, her lips locking tight around first one nipple, then the other, as
her tongue worked fervently over them. That that good for a while through the
sleepy haze of barely being awake. But when she started to bite like the feral
beast that she is in the mornings, it was too fucking much for my sleepy brain.

"Hey!" I said irritably. "What the fuck time
is it?"

Katie said guiltily, "About five-forty."

"Five-fucking-forty?" I groaned. "It isn't
even light out!" I tried to push Katie away, but she was like a cat
insistent on morning pets. I told her, "I promise I'll fuck your brains
out. Soon."

"When?" she asked, her perfect lips against my
neck, her breath warm and hungry.

I rubbed sleep out of my eyes.

"Let's say eleven-thirty?"

Katie pursed her lips. She frowned. She didn't look hurt,
exactly. She looked more like she was panicking -- like she couldn't possibly
wait that long or she would go crazy. This is an ongoing theme with Katie; when
she wants to fuck, that girl wants to
fuck
. Making her wait can be
hazardous to your health.

But it wasn't even light outside!

""Seven," she said, as a counter-offer.

"Eleven-thirty!" I said furiously.

"Seven-thirty," she smiled.

"Eleven," I said miserably.
"Ten-thirty?"

Katie changed her mind and smiled viciously.

"
Now
," she said. Her tongue traced a path
around one of my nipples. "You know what day it is?" she asked me.

"Of course I know," I told her, irritated.
"Happy anniversary."

"Happy anniversary," she said, her voice rich with
invitation. "Did you get me something, baby?"

I frowned. "Of course," I said. "But weren't
we talking about going back to sleep?"

Katie pouted. When Katie pouts, the world comes to a halt.
Katie traces part of her lineage on her father's side to the Caribbean and to
Africa beyond. From those moderately distant relatives, she inherited these
irresistible lips, naturally bee-stung and positively munchable. When she
pouts, they're almost enough to wake a man from a dead sleep and give him a
hard-on.
Almost
.

But she'd already taken care of the hard-on part, with her
hand down the front of my white cotton boxer briefs and her tongue on my nips.
I was quite erect. Katie's fingers, gentle as they were, remained insistent as
hell.

But I
did
have a hard-on, so Katie knew she'd
basically won. When she conjures that monster, Katie can get me to do almost
anything.

And she knew it. So she shamelessly teased me, taking
pleasure in knowing she had me in the palm of her hand -- or, at least, she
would soon.

She said, "Yes, baby, we
were
talking about
going back to sleep." As she spoke, she rubbed her half-naked body against
me, cotton-on-cotton and flesh-on-flesh. "But now we're talking about
whether you bought me a present for our anniversary."

"I told you," I said. "Of course I did. Now
go back to sleep."

"'Cause I bought
you
something," Katie said
wickedly. "Something
good
. Daddy's pretty sure you're going to like
it."

I tried to shut my eyes and fall back asleep, but Katie was
already mounting me, rubbing her cotton-sheathed pussy up against my  the
front of my stretched, briefs and the swelling boner beyond.

Katie and I never sleep nude. The truth is, we're too hot
for each other. I make a lot of noise here about how Katie always wants sex in
the morning, but the truth is, I match her boner-for-boner at night. I'm a
night person, very much unlike my wife. Katie conks out about eleven at the
latest. I get horny around midnight. My open invitation to Katie for sex in her
morning -- "Just don't wake me up!" -- goes double for her. She's
given me more than an open invitation; she thinks it's hot if I fuck her while
she's asleep. And I'm just as likely as her to wake up with a hard-on --
metaphorically speaking, on her part, of course. There have been plenty of
times when I couldn't resist playing a little with my sleeping wife, and Katie
awakened with me all over her...or didn't awaken at all. Like I said...I've got
an open invitation. Katie just wants to hear about it later.

But the problem is, Katie isn't on the pill.

That's why we sleep in cotton. It's just a little bit too
easy for a horndog like me to find myself half-awake and horny, barely knowing
what we're doing. Early in the relationship -- after we moved in together, that
is -- there were nights when Katie and I both slept nude...and awakened to the
feel of naked cock in naked pussy. We've talked about her starting the pill,
but she's a hippie at heart and hates the idea of hormones. Neither of us
really minds condoms, as long as we can wake up enough to put them on. And
there's something so fucking hot about how my wife looks in white cotton,
sleeping, which is often all that prevents us from going into high-risk land.

Don't get me wrong...it's fucking
hot
to find
yourself half-awake and barebacking in the middle of the night. Sleepy sex is a
pleasure, no question about it. But it's much safer if I have to, at the very
least, pull a pair of panties down before I enter my wife.

White cotton seems to be key -- something comfortable and
comforting, sexy in its way but not overtly provocative. We tried sleeping with
Katie in sexy little nighties, see-through and skimpy...but it was all too easy
for her sleepy husband (me) to nudge those barely-there panties or that
ephemeral nightie to the side when he found himself insensible and atop her in
the middle of the night.

Finally, we settled into a routine of sleeping in simple
white cotton, which we both find hot...but not
too
hot. Last night had
been no different.

On this very early morning of our anniversary, I was wearing
snug white cotton boxer briefs that hugged the front of my boner. Katie wore
full-coverage panties, white cotton with girly little hearts all over them, and
a white cotton camisole. It cupped her ample tits, which showed through the
cotton quite pleasantly, her nipples erect from arousal and plainly on display.
Her pussy was damp enough that I could feel its warmth and its moisture through
the front of my briefs as she rubbed herself onto my cock. She'd gotten me
quickly worked up enough that I'd left a soft wet stain on the front of my
shorts. But by the time she called herself "Daddy," I was getting so
hard that the tip of my cock stuck just over the white cotton waistband,
peeking out insistently.

"Wait," I said, as it struck me what she'd said.
"Daddy?"

Katie couldn't resist the sight of my cockhead sticking out
just asking to be handled. She pulled down the waistband of my briefs. She slid
down under the covers and brought her full, perfect red lips to my cock, warm
breath pouring everywhere.

She stopped short, teasing me.

"It isn't even light out," I said helplessly.

Katie went on teasing me. Her mouth didn't make contact. I
felt her warm breath all over my cock and balls. Her her tongue inched out.
With the very tip, she drew a path from the end of my cock down across the
glans, and then quickly back and forth at the most sensitive spot.

Katie is an inveterate tease, and she's really fucking good
at it. That little lateral stroke across my glans was enough to make my back
arch. My ass pressed into the soft, sleep-moist bedsheets.

"Oh, fuck," I moaned. "That feels good."
Breathless, I repeated my question. "Did you just say 'Daddy?'"

Katie ignored me.

"I said I got
you
something," she teased.

I lifted the sheets so I could look down into her pretty
face, shrouded in the darkness of the covers. Outside, the sun wasn't up yet,
so the wicked smile on Katie's pretty face was illuminated only by the soft
green glow of the nearby alarm clock.

"Did you just call yourself Daddy?" I asked.

Katie ignored my question again. She cradled my balls and
squeezed a little, just to get my attention. It worked.

"I said I got
you
something good," she
teased me. "Something
really
good. Something really,
really
,
really good.

I could tell from the look on her face that Katie had
something truly nasty up her sleeve. But it wasn't even fucking light out!

So I said, peevishly, "And it's important now?"

"Very," she answered.  "More important
than sleep, lazybones."

Katie's slim fingers caressed my balls, squeezing more
firmly. That always gets my attention, and Katie likes that
lots
. Her
other hand fondled my shaft as she squeezed. She kept her mouth teasingly close
to my cock -- without ever letting it really touch me, other than the few
teasing strokes of her tongue that had awakened me fully.