The Loft

You'd think I'd have this insatiable appetite of mine under control after a few sessions. But no... I may just be getting started.

Another week passed since the corset session. (That's what I'll call it) But I haven't been able to get it in like I've wanted. Our playtime usually falls on a work day which means no time for marathons. The abbreviated sessions are cool. But what I'm yearning for is for him to touch that second sacral chakra like he did the first time, which requires a much longer session. We've both been busier than usual lately. Now I got my texting habit under control which means I've eased up a little. I'm more patient. But it's still so hard.

He's very sometimey, admittedly. I don't think it's an issue of another woman. Maybe he's protecting his independence and his space. He doesn't want to feel pressured about anything. He knows I'm not known for doing flings so he may be wondering what might come next. Am I going to try and lock him down after a while?? I can sense of all his questions. I feel like he's testing me. But I've got no agenda. I'm just riding the wave...being free...being myself. We've known each other for so many years, why play games? Let's get to the next episode.

I had just gotten off work after an evening event and decided to hit him up and see what he was doing. He was working too. I told him I was headed over there. When I got there it was apparent he was pretty deep into what he was doing. But I waited patiently and helped him out. I really just wanted to see him. I could tell by the way he was looking at me and all around that he wanted to play right there. It probably didn't help that I was wearing lace trimmed thigh highs under my black dress which I made a point of showing him. But the maintenance crew kept coming in and out. About an hour and a half later, we finally finished up and he walked me to my car. It was near midnight. He seemed pretty tired and I knew he had a lot to do the next day so I didn't press.

"Where do you think you're going so fast?" he asked. "I wasn't ready for you to get away from me so soon."

He always looks so sexy to me, especially when he's talking shit. I love it and I always feel safe with him. He's always paying attention.

Since I had just come from an after work party for my job held in a new duplex loft right up the street, guess who still had the keys and security codes?

"Oh, well... follow me," I said. "Since you couldn't make it to the party, I might as well give you a private tour of the building."

I think he said something under his breath about a tour of the building not being what he wanted. But he knew there would be more to it than that.

It was so inappropriate I know...using my place of employment and access to entertain my little freaky desires but regular vanilla sex just doesn't do it for me all the time. Plus, I knew I wouldn't get caught. It would just be this one time. It's spontaneity that I love.

I entered the security code and walked him in. Once upstairs I had to disable the alarm. I didn't feel scared, afraid, or wrong on any level. I'm the smart, rebellious type, truly. And I like the same qualities in men. A conservative type of guy just wouldn't be able to hang. He'd probably start judging me and trying too hard to figure out what my behavior says about my character. It says that I enjoy sex and have an open mind.

Oh, but this one understands. He's carefree and has no concept of judgement.

I showed him around the building and answered his questions about the price, location and features. He liked it a lot. But we didn't have a lot of time for lollygagging. I went into the refrigerator which was still stocked and took out a bottle of white wine. I kicked off my heels and walked over to the staircase, raised my dress a tad and took a seat, handing him the bottle to drink.

"Where do you want me?" I asked.

"You seem to have already picked your spot," he said as I pulled him closer to me.

He untied the string around the inside of his sweatpants and lowered them slowly. My hands were still a little cold from being outside so I had to get to work without hands first. Soon they were warm and I did my thing that I love to do. He nodded in agreement and pushed my head down positioning me to his favorite spots. I love licking and sucking on his testicles and the way he holds my head when he likes where I'm at. (Sidebar: I always feel awkward like I have a dirty secret when women talk about how much they hate going down on their men. I absolutely love it.) He reached inside my dress and rubbed on my nipples before pulling both breasts out to caress.

I kept my mouth open so he could see his cum oozing onto my tongue. I licked the head of his penis and my lips over and over, like ice cream. I had gotten a little cum on the corner of my mouth and wiped it off with my finger to make sure I had every drop. Call me nasty if you want, but I love it as much as he does.

When he cums, he doesn't talk. He just shakes his head 'no more' when he's done. He can't speak but if he could that's what he'd say. Even after he cums I'll keep licking and sucking. But it gets a little sensitive. I have to give him a moment when he puts his hands up in defeat as if I've just arrested him.

This time he said I was disgusting. I thanked him for the compliment. But we had to go. Had to get out of there and get ready for the long day we had ahead.

But he owed me one.

press record

He made me wait so long for session four. After the laundry room episode, I think I started going down a slippery slope. I was texting him every other day. I sent him pictures of me dresssed in a black corset and strappy heels. I know, I know. I admit, I was so pressed and so addicted. I really could have worn his ass out everyday if he allowed it.

"I can't go a week. I really need to see you," I texted.

He claimed he was tired, busy and otherwise unavailable.

Too tired for some good head?? That don't even sound right!

I started to feel a little sensitive about it. But eventually decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He is a busy guy. I also figured he might have another woman he might be working on. Didn't really care about that though. He'd be back. I tried to be patient. I had gotten a week of sorry, can't tonight messages. I only wanted to hear yes, asap, right away. I told him I understood. No matter what I felt, the next week I decided to resist the urge to call, text, email or instant message. Gchat was the worst. I'd see him online and I'd know he saw me. Another week had passed. No nothing. Why was he being so unresponsive? Was he testing me? Putting me on pause? I was out of practice with this game.

But eventually...he couldn't resist. I don't know why I ever thought he could. I had played my hand well. Two weeks after episode three...another Gchat message. *ping*

I love those. It was funny too because I was at work, in a staff meeting...sitting at the conference table with my laptop when his message popped up. He said he saw me online, caught a flashback and his dick got hard. I had to quickly minimize the window before the co-worker sitting beside me saw it.

We quickly made plans to see each other that evening. I had such a rough day. It began with me getting pulled over for speeding first thing in the morning. 45 in 25. I do like to go fast. I think I was daydreaming about him, anticipating his call and just wasn't paying attention like I normally do. I forgot to put my new insurance card in the car and got a ticket for that too. Two hours later, I got a parking ticket. Shit. At any rate, he was going to make my day all better now.

We sent a few text messages back and forth a few hours before our date. I don't need to hear his voice until I actually pull up to his place. Then I call him and simply say, I'm outside.

But first, I stopped off at a new lounge around my way for a cocktail or two. I promised a girlfriend I'd meet her there to check out the place. I don't need to hang out much anymore but it was packed and I must say I looked pretty good. Midway through cocktail number three, I said Ciao! to my friend and made my way over.

I decided to wear that corset he pretended to ignore. Over it, I wore a black wrap dress I could easily remove. My toenails were painted a dark, black cherry color which looked really nice in my black strappy heels and topped off the look with a nice red Fedora, leaned to the side. He could have cared less what I wore that night but I felt good.

I arrived a little after 12:30am. I sensed he wasn't nearly as intoxicated as I was. He seemed a little tense, serious even. But I was playful. I wanted to keep my hat and heels on but he didn't seem to pay much attention to the details that night. It was my job to soften him up and I couldn't wait to do my favorite thing. I didn't even need any foreplay. It was all about good head. Among my girlfriends, I am the Olympic torch bearing champion, proud, fellatio offerer. Yeah, I am.

With him I think I love it even more in part because he's so much taller than me. I love being on my knees, him towering over me. I have to share a certain connection with a man for this. Once I know there's mutual respect and feel comfortable enough, I'm free to do almost anything.

On this night, he decided to pull out his video camera. I was surprised I had no objections. I liked the fact that he liked it so much, he wanted to play it back later. My best friend strongly disapproved. But it's like I told her, we're very grown and I trust him like I've never trusted anyone. So g'head...tape me. I think I heard a camera go off too. What a compliment. He won't show anyone. I'm certain of it. That was for his own personal collection and I was flattered.

I love the taste of him (and me on him). I know this night was supposed to be a quickie. But I couldn't help myself. I had to give him two rounds of good head. He can't ever leave me hanging again when I need him. I gave him something to remember me. Plus, I just really missed it and him. I'd been a frigid, celibate chic for three years. And damn, it felt good to be his nasty little porn star.

Our session ended after a little dick riding and finger play and he talked to me a little about his hectic schedule. He wasn't just brushing me off. That's cool. I had to go and let him rest but I couldn't stop kissing him. His tongue just felt so good in my mouth. We were going to pay for this in the morning. We both had to get up early. It was nearly 3am. But it was worth it.

He walked me to my car and I clinged on his arm so I wouldn't stumble in my four inch heels, liquor still in my system. But I was ok to drive at this point. He shook his head when he saw my bad parallel parking job. It was pretty pitiful. I had wrecked my right side mirror in the process. I wasn't phased. I know a cute mechanic who will glady fix it for me.

I promised myself I'd watch the drinking and driving. It's not something I normally do and I'd hate to get in an accident. I've been behaving very badly these days. I'm so distracted.

I'm going to need him to straighten me out.

The Laundry Room

It had been nearly two weeks since session two... twelve days to be precise. I felt like an addict of sorts. He said he'd see me soon but I hadn't heard from him. I knew I would eventually, but when? I was trying so hard to be cool about the situation. I had to fight the urge to call him. I had to play it cool...but this guy... he had me so open. Finally, the day I thought I'd surely give in, he sent a text letting me know he hadn't forgotten about me and we'd see each other soon.

How soon...damn?!

Okay, cool. I had to calm down and chill the f--- out. But it was hard. I went lingere shopping at Frederick's of Hollywood, to the spa to step up my Brazilian game, to the adult toy store to stock up on bedside assessories. I was trippin. Or some might say, just getting prepared.

A couple of my male co-workers commented that something seemed different about me. I swear men can smell sex on a woman or maybe just confidence. My skin was glowing they said. "Oh, I got a facial," I told them, laughing hysterically inside because they didn't know I meant the nasty kind.

Monday through Friday I was focused on the job during the day. But as soon as the sun set, I was a feign again. I could think of nothing else but him. I'm lying, I thought about him all day long. Maybe I need to diversify my portfolio I thought and discussed it with my girlfriends. "Yeah, girl. You better mix that shit up," they insisted.

I tried but the other dudes really couldn't compare. Still I kept a few in the pocket, so I didn't lose perspective. You know, calling incessantly and wondering all the time when I would hear from him. I filled my calendar with dates but most of the guys were truly lame, nice to look at, but lame. There was one or two in the bunch that might serve well as a needed distraction in a pinch. It has hard to spread my energy around so much. Even if I wasn't sleeping with the rest, dating required energy and time. I only wanted to give that kind of energy and time to him.

But I knew who I was dealing with. This man I was so open on, was no monogomous type. Falling in love with him would be good business for my therapist...bad for me. But don't ask the obvious questions. You should already know the obvious answer.

Five days after his text promising to see me soon, I couldn't wait any longer. I had to speed up the process.

"Your version of soon needs work and my naughty streak is not done. Wassup??"

The response I wanted soon came: "2morrow or Saturday?"

I had another date planned for Saturday. But if Friday went well. I'd cancel.

No, no, don't cancel your distraction date. Girl, stay focused! You'll mess around and fall in love. Don't get caught up!

We agreed Friday was set and I was once again like a kid waiting for Christmas. I had hardly been sleeping at night. I've always been a night owl but this was ridiculous. My body literally would not let me sleep. The evening before our next episode, I was wide awake on the computer looking at God knows what, shoes I think. I'm checking my Gmail. Hmmmm....he's awake too and online. 12:27am. He sends a Gchat message:

him: i wish u was here now so i could do with u as i/you please

me: don't play. i might jump in my car and head over there.

him: i wanna put my ____ in ur _____ right now. but we can wait til 2mrw if we must.

me: why must you tempt me?

him: i don't know but i'm serious. u sure you don't mind the slapping and such? cause i keep having visions of man handling u while u handle my dick. almost ready for that ___ to ____ shit u spoke of.

me: oh yes, i don't wanna rush that. yes, let's save that for 2mrw.

him: too much nastiness to repeat

me: sounds good.

him: aight then i'm out. c u 2mrw.

me: can't wait.

him: me neither. wish i could get a sample but okay.

me: i'm tempted to come give it to u.

him: please

me: please? did u say please??? give me 30-40 minutes. i'll call u when i'm outside.

him: okay cool, bring cigarettes.

You see...I couldn't help myself. All that talk about man handling me. It got to me.

So I got ready. Fixed a stiff drink. Took a bath. Lotioned myself nicely. Put on a strapless black shirt dress, black thong, knee high boots, a black overcoat and headed out the door.

When I arrived, he met me at the door and led me to the elevator. I noticed he pushed the down button not up to his 4th floor apartment.

"Down?", I asked.

"Mmm hmm," he affirmed.

He led me to the laundry room and cautioned me the super lived just across the hall. It was late he explained so we'd be okay as long as we didn't make too much noise.

He closed the door. I was happy to see there was a lock on the door but he said it didn't work. My nasty ass didn't even care.

"What you got under there?" he asked motioning to my dress with cigarette in hand.

"Not much," I said.

"Show me," he said standing back as I took a seat on one of the yellow chairs lined up against the wall.

I raised my shirt dress a little and slid my thong to the side to show off my brazilian.

"Pretty, isn't it?" I asked.

He nodded and watched me play with myself with my french-manicured fingertips.

He pulled me all over the laundry room. From the folding table to the washing machine back to the yellow chair. I think I even crawled at one point. I particularly loved being on my knees going down on him. When it got really good to him he'd lean over and smack my ass. He'd bend over slightly pulling himself away from me, knowing I would follow him with my seriously insatiable tongue. He liked when I spit all over him, letting my salivia drip down to his testicles. I'd watch my spit drizzle down and lick it up before it dripped off to the floor. This was playtime for me and I loved it... needed it.

I went home an hour later (a quickie for us since we both had work the next day), feeling high once again.

While getting dressed for work the next day, I noticed three black and blue marks on the inside of my forearm. I put my fingers over the marks and realized they were from his fingers, caused by all the man handling the night before.

Already I was looking forward to the next time.

Session II

For a week, I sent dirty little text messages to his phone. (really, really dirty) The trip to outer space had sent me into overdrive. Maybe it was a fluke I thought..had to be. I told myself it was the alcohol and the joint I smoked that altered my state of consciousness, played tricks on my brain and had me thinking that night was the best sex I’d had in a long, long time. Maybe I hadn’t experienced what I thought I did. I had to know. Sober sex can sometimes be well…sobering. We both liked it better when we were slightly intoxicated. Needless to say, I was anxious for the next episode.

Using my cell as a conveyer of all types of nastiness, I confessed all the other dirty little things I wanted him to do and left nothing out. I asked him to tell me what he wanted. He didn’t hold back either. He said he wanted to push my limits. "Can’t tell. Gotta surprise you," his message said.

Ooohh, what does that mean?

He asked how I felt about choking (not too hard), slapping and a little bondage.

I think I hit the freak lottery.

I felt high that whole week and couldn’t wait to see/experience him again. My insides pulsated for days like he had put those emergency room revival paddles on my vagina and shocked the shit out of her. She contracted all day long all on her own. I couldn’t even control it. It was like she had awakened from a deep slumber and had a mind of her own. She wanted a lot more.

Finally, he came...this time to my place. It had been raining all day long, still was lightly, when he arrived around 1am.

I answered the door in a pair of black and white pin striped boy shorts and a white button up shirt with the top four buttons undone exposing a black lace bra underneath. He smiled and said something about me being dressed for the occasion.

We went to the kitchen were I made us a few cocktails. We were getting warmed up. He stood over me staring down and nodding. Said something about tying me to the refrigerator.

Oooo, please do.

Instead though he said he brought a few party favors.

“Party favors?” I said stopping mid-swallow to make sure I heard correctly.

“Uh huh,” he said taking out a large, black plastic bag from his knapsack.

Oh shit.

“What’s in the bag?” I shrieked and wondered as it made a clunking sound on the kitchen table.

“You’ll find out. First, take the dishes out of the sink and clear off that counter,” he instructed.

Oh…

I did as I was told. When I finished he began taking the party favors out of the bag…a bag full of toys. Like 15 of them. All different types, shapes, colors, styles, models, functions, you fucking name it. He spread them all out all over the counter and instructed me to pick the ones I wanted.

So much to choose from.

I picked the silver bullet and a medium sized dildo. He had a smaller one and a larger one too and asked why didn’t I just go for the big one.

Wow. He was right so I did.

He told me to wash them in the sink. Of course I asked if they had ever been used and of course he said no but my nasty ass didn’t even care.

Next, he told me to go over to the couch and get started. He stood a few feet away, watching me play with myself as he smoked a cigarette and finished his drink.

He came over and went to work. And I do mean he worked on me like it was his job and he took a lot of pride in his craft. He knew when to go harder -even when I grabbed his hands and moaned for rest he grabbed my hand to give me something to hold on to and went in harder.

I am not a screamer but I was that night. It was such a good release. I knew I had some screams and moans trapped deep inside but I didn’t know it would feel so good to free them.

I had to roll off the couch to try and escape him. But he followed my ass and kept going. Finally, he gave me break. I was bent over the side of couch, head down, legs shaking, hair falling over my face, trying to catch my breath – I glanced at the clock and realized he had been working on me for nearly two hours.

“Do you want something to drink,” he asked me.

“Some water, please,” I said completely out of sorts.

“Some water?” he repeated. He seemed very pleased with himself.

I just nodded. Wait this is my house. He's offering me a drink in my own house. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?! Oh well. Shit, yes...please bring me some water.

With him I always seem to transform into a complete submissive. Far from my daytime persona. I loved it.

We never did make it to an actual bed that night and ended up taking it a little further on the stairs. I know he loves getting head which is good because it so happens to be my favorite thing.

Around 4:30am he called it quits.

“I’m not fucking with you. I know what you’re trying to do. You wanna cum 18 times like last time and I’m not fucking with you,” he joked.

Yeah, that was what I wanted. I wanted to see if it was a fluke. But that first time was someting special. It wiped us both out. It took me two days to recuperate.

Session two wasn’t anything like session one. But it left me wanting more. So much more. He is a nasty, nasty man and I apparently...I'm a nasty girl.