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She gasped again. “Oh, god. You’re into some real kinky shit.”
I pulled her nipple into my mouth, nipped it, sucked it, then pulled back. “No, I’m into being sexually liberated. There’s something very freeing about embracing pain, giving and receiving it. I wanna be free with you, Nicky.” I slid another finger into her pussy. “Mmm. Your pussy’s so wet. I know you wanna try it. Say it.” She bent her knees, spread her legs wider, meeting my fingers and hand with hungry thrusts.
“Uhhh…mmmm…so…if…aaah…I let you…”
“Let me what, baby…? Go ’head, say it.”
“W-w-whip my pussy,” she stammered breathlessly. “W-w-will you fuck me with a strap-on afterward?”
“Maybe.” I plunged my fingers into her deeper, worked them faster. She bucked and thrashed as I hit her G-spot. I kept talking in her ear, kept planting the seed, while I finger-fucked her. Then I removed my fingers from her gushy snatch and popped her clit, then smacked the front of her pussy. She let out a loud moan. I did it again. “We can come up with a safe word that you can use whenever it becomes too much for you.” I slapped her pussy again. And that time…she came, hard.
After two weeks of coaxing and smacking her pussy with my hand, she’d allowed me to paddle her pussy. I’d paddled her sex until it was clenching and creaming. And then I would nestle between her thighs and cool her torrid cunt with slow, wet strokes of my tongue, slowly dipping it into her drenched slit. It took me another two weeks before I had her comfortable enough to
accept her first flogging. But not without, first, explaining to her the different types of floggers there were. She needed, wanted, to understand their purpose. Wanted to wrap her mind around the sweet torture I had finally convinced her—after weeks and weeks of prodding and preparing—to endure.
And that first time…the night I delivered swift, yet gentle, lashes to her waiting pussy, she screamed out and cried, giving in to the sensation and the waves caused by each lick. Eyes wide, pussy puckered, her vibrating groin and buzzing clit built the pressure within her to dizzying heights. She barely had time to gather her senses before her orgasm slammed through her, cracking open her insides, and spilling out in rushed spurts.
She gasped and wriggled and thrashed as she came, her back arching, her breasts swinging. Her opened eyes brimmed with tears as the thumping in her clit slowly subsided. The pain had made her feel helpless and powerful at the same time. Made her feel alive, every nerve ending tingling through her entire body—sensitive and on high alert—had her body overheating.
“Do you still trust me?” I asked, dropping the soft suede mini-mop with its burgundy tails as I knelt between her legs, my own pussy aching and drenched in its juices.
She nodded. Then tossed her head back and loudly moaned as I flicked her clit, then slurped the front of her pussy into my mouth. Another climax built, and she came over and over and over—welcoming its freedom.
“Are you ready?” the silky voice asks, lightly sweeping the flogger’s tails over my sex, cutting through my reverie. I blink behind the blindfold, swallow back drool while adjusting my thoughts back to the present. The feeling of the flogger’s tails brings out a Pavlovian response: my pussy juices, excitement rushes to my clit, and my long, thick nipples swell. A thick sexual energy surges from my breasts to my nipples, causing them to become erect.
I can’t take it anymore. The need is excruciating. The want is unbearable. I ache for the stinging burn. I arch my back. “Yes. Give it to me. Make my naughty pussy weep.”
The beautiful woman with the rich, deep Hershey chocolate skin standing before me—my lover, Sasha, holds a suede flogger with pink suede tails and angled tips in her slender, manicured hand. My pussy clenches, watching her grip its wooden handle. Oh, how I love the feel of suede. The way it snaps into the skin with just the right amount of thud and sting.
That’s the beauty of floggers. Used properly, they can create many delicious sensations that bring about a steamy session of scintillating discovery.
Swoosh!
I gasp. The sting is followed by an exquisite burn that singes into my sex, its heat dancing over my skin. My clit starts to throb.
“Whip my pussy, again,” I whimper.
In my mind’s eye, behind the blackness of the silk, I see her raising the flogger up over her head, bringing it down over and around. Its fluid movement etched in my memory. Its lashes embedded into my skin.
Swoosh!
Another wave of heat vibrates through me and my pussy goes up in flames. It’s so fucking hot. So hot, it feels like melted wax is being poured over my clit.
“Oh, yesssss! Again! Give my pussy more!”
Swoosh!
The flogger bites into my clit. Gnaws at the lips of my cunt. I ride the pleasurable pain, screaming myself hoarse as I cum, each spasm harder and sweeter than the one before.
The stinging lashes, my cunt’s burning need, my wetness all amplified by the intoxicating sensations floating around me. I breathe it all in.
The scent of my lover’s excited pussy and my own.
The sound of my moans and whimpers echoing throughout the loft.
The sizzle of the lashes.
My senses are ablaze. I am melting in hot fire.
