The Last Time
I woke to the feeling of Papi's whiskers bristling against the thin skin on my neck and his hoarsely whispered words, "wake up, sweet Pussy." I snuggled closer to his touch, like a cat waking from a nap as her master chucks behind her ears. "Now, wake up Mr. D cunt!" My breath caught and my eyes snapped open at his command. I reached over and laid my hand on Mr. D, the tips of my fingers tracing the cord of scar tissue that cinches his chest up taught and firm. He stirred and mumbled "huh, what?"
Papi had his arms around me now and his top leg hooked in the crook of my knee effectively prying my legs apart. He was rhythmically grinding his hips into my ass. The heat of his breath on my neck sent shivers across my cool skin. I purred and arched my back into him, feeling my muscles pull and stretch and limber loose as they warmed up. Suddenly I gasped and exhaled as he tightened his arms around my breasts and throat, binding us together tighter than any ropes ever could.
Involuntarilly I gripped down on Mr. D's upper arm. His body was hard now. He was awake. Listening. Waiting for his cue.
"I think you better fuck this Pussy, Mr. D," Papi said.
"You think so, do you? Well, I better see about that." He rolled over and wedged a hand between my thighs. He fingered me quickly, just long enough to feel how wet I was. "Mmm hmm, yeah, that's it, that's a good girl," he cooed to me in his monotone voice. Then he said to Papi, without looking at him, "hold the bitch down." He hoisted my calve onto his shoulder and pressed himself into me.
I had always loved how Mr. D kept his cock on after fucking. I remembered how, after the first time we fucked, we sat and chatted in my brightly lit kitchen while he nonchalantly played with himself. You know, the way guys just sorta knock their dicks about when they're soft and in the way? The only difference being that his dick was always 10 inches long and hard and ready to fuck again... even if he wasn't.
But tonight he was. Albeit, unbeknownst to each of us, it would be our last time.
He fucked me good and hard while Papi held me tight and whispered sweet and nasty things into my ear. And even though it was Mr. D who was deep inside me and Mr. D who's eyes were locked onto mine; Mr. D who was rocking my body with the force of his own and Mr. D who had pried my legs apart as far as they could go, his right hand gripping my ankle high above his head and his left knee restraining my other thigh; somehow it was really Papi who was fucking me. It was Papi's pulse who was beating in time with my own. Papi's breath pacing mine. Papi's kisses comforting me and letting me know I was loved. Papi's arms I drifted back to sleep in afterward.
In the early, early morning Mr. D and I took the elevator downstairs together in silence leaving Papi sound asleep in the hotel. We walked across the deserted lobby, Mr. D two steps in front of me. We stepped out into the chilly morning air. I motioned to my car parked half way down the block to our left and said "I'm just over there." He said "ok, see ya" and turned to the right.
Papi had his arms around me now and his top leg hooked in the crook of my knee effectively prying my legs apart. He was rhythmically grinding his hips into my ass. The heat of his breath on my neck sent shivers across my cool skin. I purred and arched my back into him, feeling my muscles pull and stretch and limber loose as they warmed up. Suddenly I gasped and exhaled as he tightened his arms around my breasts and throat, binding us together tighter than any ropes ever could.
Involuntarilly I gripped down on Mr. D's upper arm. His body was hard now. He was awake. Listening. Waiting for his cue.
"I think you better fuck this Pussy, Mr. D," Papi said.
"You think so, do you? Well, I better see about that." He rolled over and wedged a hand between my thighs. He fingered me quickly, just long enough to feel how wet I was. "Mmm hmm, yeah, that's it, that's a good girl," he cooed to me in his monotone voice. Then he said to Papi, without looking at him, "hold the bitch down." He hoisted my calve onto his shoulder and pressed himself into me.
I had always loved how Mr. D kept his cock on after fucking. I remembered how, after the first time we fucked, we sat and chatted in my brightly lit kitchen while he nonchalantly played with himself. You know, the way guys just sorta knock their dicks about when they're soft and in the way? The only difference being that his dick was always 10 inches long and hard and ready to fuck again... even if he wasn't.
But tonight he was. Albeit, unbeknownst to each of us, it would be our last time.
He fucked me good and hard while Papi held me tight and whispered sweet and nasty things into my ear. And even though it was Mr. D who was deep inside me and Mr. D who's eyes were locked onto mine; Mr. D who was rocking my body with the force of his own and Mr. D who had pried my legs apart as far as they could go, his right hand gripping my ankle high above his head and his left knee restraining my other thigh; somehow it was really Papi who was fucking me. It was Papi's pulse who was beating in time with my own. Papi's breath pacing mine. Papi's kisses comforting me and letting me know I was loved. Papi's arms I drifted back to sleep in afterward.
In the early, early morning Mr. D and I took the elevator downstairs together in silence leaving Papi sound asleep in the hotel. We walked across the deserted lobby, Mr. D two steps in front of me. We stepped out into the chilly morning air. I motioned to my car parked half way down the block to our left and said "I'm just over there." He said "ok, see ya" and turned to the right.
posted by Curious Pussy at Sunday, December 18, 2005
3 Comments:
But tonight he was. Albeit, unbeknownst to me then, it was the last time.
This put an omenous tone on the experience as I read it, despite the intimacy you and Papi maintain in the rest (and do so beautifully, I'll add)
Yeah, looking back at my affair with Mr. D the whole thing seems ominous from beginning to end. At the time it was really more light hearted and fun... with a constant undertone of creepiness that we played with (as you've picked up on). For certain there was some degree of affection there, and fondness. But you have to be careful what you ask for, you know? I think Mr. D had that whole Madonna/whore thing going on and could never reconcile our sex life with what he thought "normal" people did. I was always too queer, too fat and too kinky to ever be his real girlfriend. But he had me going pretty good for a while there. And I let him.
ps - I usually post before bed... then I got to bed and obsess about a turn of phrase all night. Sometimes i have to get up and change it immediately. Last night I made myself wait until morning. Of course then d/e had already commented on something I said. But I changed it anyway. It is just my word OCD. Don't mind me.
c.p.
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