N Morley: Packing Heat: Femdom Strap-On Stories

I don’t want to risk it, of course. I let Trina do her worst, licking my balls and my glans with alternating pressure, careful not to push me too far.

Then she stands up, looks me up and down, and goes to bed.

As to when she found time to shuck every last item of clothing while she was down on her knees… I admit to drawing a blank.

All I know is, she’s stark naked when she plants herself on the creaky single bed with her ass shoved up high in the air, waiting for her “daily nap.”

I step out of my shorts, strip off my T-shirt, and get the vibrator out of my backpack.

I join her on the bed.

It’s possible I haven’t described Trina’s perfect ass with sufficient detail. By “ass,” I do mean her gorgeous buttocks and upper thighs, which are tight and taut and toned from yoga, swimming, running, stair-climbing. It’s not that she wants a nice ass; she just can’t help it. The freak actually loves to fucking exercise . Whether she’d still put all that work in if she didn’t, just to get guys like me wrapped around her little finger, I can’t really surmise. What I know is that every time I look at it I hear a klaxon sounding in my head—always did, even when the most intimate act I performed with Trina’s ass was a little spanking. Since I’ve started worshipping it daily, well… it’s hard for me to gauge if her ass is actually perfection made flesh, or if I’m just so fucking horny I’ve started to lose it. Probably a combination of both.

But her buttocks, her thighs, the small of her back—that’s not really what I mean. What really makes me drool is her butthole. It always did, even when I’d see it as I entered her—you know, the “conventional” way—doggy-style from behind. There’s something so dirty about a woman’s butthole, when you’re deep inside her pussy—not that you’ll do anything to it, necessarily, but just that it’s there . Sometimes that’s plenty good enough. And Trina’s always had a sweet tight pretty pink asshole… all the more yummy because I knew it was off-limits. I’ve always liked anal sex—both the fetish and the activity. Once I started sliding my tongue up into that snug back door of the hottest girl I’d ever slept with, I was a goner.

It’s also more than a little smooth—in some ways arrestingly so. For all her tomboyish behavior, Trina has a remarkably girly little butthole. When I rimmed her the first time—which was, suspiciously, just a few weeks before she made her “offer"—she had barely responded; I would only find out later that she’d liked it a lot . but been embarrassed by liking it so much. Go figure—it looks like we both needed a little nudge to do what we craved.

There in the cabin bedroom, I do what I’ve been doing regularly for two months now—mouth at her ass, tongue working, two fingers of one hand in her pussy, another hand guiding the battery vibe back and forth on her clit. Trina rarely fails to climax using this combination of stimuli; it can take her anywhere from two minutes to twenty, and she often wants a second.

That part isn’t technically part of the agreement… but I never say no. Has she really whipped me that good?

She must have. She must have whipped me better .

Because I’ve been going at it five minutes or more—more aroused than ever, because I know my ordeal is close to its “end,” if you’ll forgive me—when I hear the door click-squeak open, and I pull back, instinctively moving to cover myself with my hands. The vibe comes away from Trina’s clit as my fingers leave her pussy and my tongue leaves her ass.

But Trina moves faster than I do, and faster than Emily—which is who it is, I see as she comes through the door with her mouth open wide, pretending (or maybe—just maybe— not pretending) to be shocked. Is she really surprised to discover Trina and me in flagrante delicto ? Was there some sort of misunderstanding in the “ Keep the others out ” gesture Trina gave her? Or—far more likely—has Emily decided to invite herself to a threesome… and she’s just shocked to see how dirty we fuck?

“Sorry,” says Emily, but her voice has a quality that tells me she’s not sorry at all. “I thought—”

I never get to hear what she thought—or claims she thought. Trina gets her hand on my head and shoves it back down toward her ass—a move requiring a twist and a squirm possible only from a yoga fanatic.

“You,” hisses Trina, addressing me. “Don’t stop. You—” addressing Emily “—close the door. Drafts! Naked people!”

“I noticed,” says Emily filthily, and I hear the door close.

I think we’re alone again, so I let Trina hold me there with my mouth on her ass, and I figure I’ll deal with my humiliation later. After all, Emily’s hip, right? It’s not like I have to be embarrassed. I put my tongue and my fingers and the vibe right back where they all belong—asshole, pussy, clit. Trina never takes her hand off my head, holding me there.

Then Emily says, “You don’t mind?”

I instinctively pull back, though less firmly this time. It’s easy for Trina to hold me there, her hand on the back of my head, her hips grinding her body so I have no choice but to continue to lick her ass. My cock gives a throb. Emily’s here. She’s watching. My cock pulses. My tongue works. My balls swell. Trina laughs.

“Do I look like I mind?” Trina asks.

I can’t see much, being focused entirely on my task(s). But I do have peripheral vision, and Emily’s close enough now to engage it. I see the soft fluttering swirl of her limbs as she lifts her T-shirt and drops it on the bed next to me. Her shorts are next, and she’s not wearing underwear. But then, she wasn’t wearing a bra. She isn’t wearing shoes, either, so when she eases onto the bed and starts to make out with Trina, her foot feels gentle trailing up my bare back.

She lets it rest on the back of my head, and Em’s the one to hold me in place as I lick . That frees up Trina’s hand, which seems to have been Em’s whole idea. Trina starts to play with Emily’s teacup tits, while they kiss… at least, as far as I can tell, because Emily’s perfect bare foot is shoved against the back of my skull, now, forcing me to service Trina.

Trina’s moans are mounting rapidly; Emily’s arms go around her and she hooks her leg so she can hold me down with her calf instead of just her foot. It’s a surprisingly secure hold, as his her grip on my girlfriend. Trina moans louder and louder, and her hand has found its way into Emily’s crotch, I think. I hear a wet sound, and Emily moans and says something very filthy, squirming and writhing up against Trina.

My cock throbs close to release as I struggle to take this all in. I knew my girlfriend had female lovers in the past—two of them, plus a one-night stand—but that was years ago. It was all behind her, she’d told me. Threesomes? Not so much. Maybe someday , she said. With two guys, baby. I think I’d be up for that .

Or maybe today , apparently, with Emily—hot, brunette, skinny tomboy Emily, geeky-gawky and cute, and oh my God she fucking smells good. I can smell her leg, hooked over my head and holding me down with my face in Trina’s ass; Em smells like lotion and fruit and flesh and musk, and Trina’s trying not to orgasm. I can tell because I know it so well; she loves this fight, the struggle not to climax. She likes the very last moments before orgasm almost as much as I do. Maybe my weeks of denial are sort of like the seconds of Trina fending off her orgasm by clawing sheets and pounding mattresses and begging—or ordering—“Slowly, baby… slowly!”