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Breathy sighs filled the air as Miley continued the more gentle ministrations on her pussy. The dull throbbing was an erotic contrast to her quickening heartbeat. Her slippery fingers touched every sensitive nerve, and it wasn't long before she could feel her cunt begging for release again. "Make me come," she whispered aloud, and the hand on her tits moved to slip two fingers inside her while she rolled at her clit, giving it soft pinches before she felt another climax. "Unh!..." Miley scissored her fingers and rolled her eyes to watch her body shake and tits jiggle with her orgasm.
Finally with a shuddering sigh, she pulled her fingers away when the climax ended, amazed at how wet they were. She licked her fingertips, savoring the soft, warm, and oddly sweet tang of her own quim. Just like eating pussy. Miley gave a rueful smile that she wasn't limber enough to do that on herself. Another future task to employ a friend for. "Slut," she hissed, resisting the urge to touch herself again until the feelings subsided completely. She wanted this ultimate climax to build.
Miley stepped to the dresser and pulled out what had become her favorite accessory, not that she could exactly endorse it in public: a smooth, red vibrator. About seven inches long and three around, it had no special textures or bells and whistles, just something simple she could pick up with pocket change in disguise at the backroom of a store in a small town, the kind where shopkeepers don't even blink. Simple, but did the trick. And then some.
Once more in front of the mirror, Miley sighed and let the anticipation and desire overwhelm her. Without turning it on, she started by gliding the toy in and out of her generous cleavage. "Yeah, fuck my tits," Miley near-pleaded, shivering at the warming surface of the vibe. She moved her body to watch her firm breasts sway and once again become aroused from the action. The vibe's tip rubbed over her still-hard nipples before being enveloped by her mouth.
Messily, Miley lapped her tongue and made satisfied slurps as she sucked the tip, admiring how her cheeks hollowed and lips made the perfect suction. Mmm, you cock-sucking whore. The thought sent a fresh jolt of arousal to her cunt. Not just cock-sucking...pussy-fucking.
She popped the vibrator from her mouth, knowing her saliva and sex juices would be plenty of lubrication. She arched her hips out again and spread her lower lips. Oh, yeah. Miley turned the toy on to medium speed- slow just wasn't a good enough starter for her- and placed it on her swollen clit. She cried out at the instant sensation and struggled to stay on her feet while watching her reflection.
Her breasts shook and thigh muscles clenched as the toy worked its magic, and Miley could feel more juices seeping from her pussy; she could hardly remember herself being this wet before. Her clit throbbed in satisfaction, but her pussy wanted more and more.
"Unhhh...fuck, yeah..." Now everything was throbbing, and she shut her eyes to concentrate on the sensation. Couldn't hold back, had to do it now...with a deep breath she slid the vibe to push right inside her, all her natural juices making it slip in with ease. Wanton grunts left her as the thickness filled her still ever-so-tight cunt.
"Aaaaah...fuck me, yes, yes!" Miley clenched her muscles over the shaft so she was completely filled, and her free hand rubbed over her deeply pink pussy lips and desperately aching clit. The vibrations inside tingled all the way up-up-up her perfect body for an unmatched erotic thrill...
Well, almost unmatched. Miley shuddered as she began moving the vibrator in and out of her with the motions of a thrusting cock. "Mmm...oh..." Her imagination worked overtime and she murmured her desires aloud. "Mmm, yeah, fuck me right there with that big, hot cock...you love fucking my little wet pussy, don't you? Making it cum over and over while you spurt all that hot jizz inside it? Mmm, I'm cumming soon for you, yes..." Her moans were punctuated by wet sounds as the toy thrust in and out. Fuck, she needed to cum now.
With a flick of her wrist, she turned the vibrator's speed to its maximum setting.
"Aaaah!" With a loud cry, her eyes flew open and she sunk to her knees to watch her reflection as her orgasm ran rampant through her body. Her hips thrust forward with every jolt and she watched her creamy cum seep out to coat the thick red toy. Jaw slack, Miley grunted with the last few efforts she had in her, and her hand dropped away from the vibrator with a final "Unh!" The toy didn't stay lodged in her pussy for long, the slickness of her juices made it slip to the floor with a muted thunk, still buzzing away.
"Ohhh..." Miley sighed and cupped a hand over her mound one final time, not for stimulation but just to feel. There was the familiar throbbing of pure satisfaction, one she'd be feeling throughout the night.
"Fuck yeah, nobody hotter than me," she said in a husky whisper, hooded her eyes, and licked her lips at her reflection with a wanton smile.
The End.
Raven's Choice
The music thudded and pulsed through the private party. Female escorts provided for the evening mingled with executives and local politicians who networked and chatted in the bar area, or who clustered round the raised stage, waving paper money and begging for the dancer's attention.
Raven was so used to this, but delighted in the knowledge that it was her lithe body, curling, twisting and looping round the pole that was having the most impact that night. To the urgent beat of Natalia Oreiro's "No Soporto" she did everything but mount the men closest to the stage. She was a wanton slut teasing the men and promising a night of decadent coupling, and they responded by throwing their manhoods at her in increasingly bigger denominations.
Although by day a professional, working in an office, sober and professional, at night she turned her skin inside out and danced and displayed her way into men's fantasies and lustful dreams. But like her more sober life, this too was just a game she played. Even as she posed provocatively as a slave to these men, she knew it was her body and her sex that had them in her chains, and the knowledge amused and frustrated her.
When she did private lap dances she would tease her clients almost to the point of them creaming themselves, delighting in the bulges they would beg her to touch with soft fingers, or rub with her thong displayed bottom.
But when she was ready to slake her sexual thirst, she would saunter past the macho executives, the alpha males who worked out as hard as they carved deals, with their expensive suits and gold watches. She ignored the self centred self assured men who saw her body as a right, or a reward for their attention. Instead, she would choose a more diffident man, someone who stayed in the back ground, who didn't try because he assumed he wouldn't win.
The look on that chosen man's face would amuse her too; puzzlement, a touch of fear mixed with hope, and eventually a barely concealed lust that tonight they were the one would be playing with the exquisite creature.
And in turn, she would encourage their dark side to join the games.
"Shy boys always have a dark side." she would tell her friends. "They have so many frustrations and wounds they need to express, but they are usually so nice about it too."
So, grateful for her attention, yet persuaded by her urging, they would ensure that as they spanked, cropped, bound and used her, that she would also have her pleasure, her needs fulfilled with pain and pleasure both.
For even as she played the femme fatale, even as she targeted a man and reduced his self will to empty dust in her claws, even as she slaked her sexual hunger on some anonymous cock buried in her body, she would also feel the need for a form of penance, for a masochistic absolution.
For all that she embraced her slut side, yet part of her wanted to be punished, to be chastised, to pay for her sinful pleasures.
She was as good as she could be with her appetites...she was honest, truthful, brutal in her openness about her needs and desires as a nymphomaniac. She never promised what she could not deliver, and so, when her hunger for punishment was at its sharpest, she sought out the pain of redemption.
Whatever her "confessor" for that moment decided, she would accept and suffer for his sake, and for her soul's healing. Any and all pain was embraced, as long as it was sincere in its turn. Her moans, her cries, her tears were then a both a sign of her desire for wholeness, and a gift to the one who healed her as he hurt her.
And tonight? Tonight her lust for absolution was particularly deep.
