Dear Diary.
I fucking love dick.
Yeah, that’s right, I’m just gonna say it. I probably shouldn’t, and I know whoever’s reading this crummy ol’ book probably found it in the sewer and is judging me, but screw it. Dick feels freaking tip-top and I’d fuck a good dick every day of the week if I was able to, think what you want of me.
So, uh, here’s the awkward transition into a story about how I fucked a random dude, and found myself tied up, blindfolded, and with a belly full of cum. It’s 3AM and my vibe is out of batteries, so here I am.
It was New Years Eve. Well, actually, just twenty or so minutes into the New Year. People were running naked through the streets, setting buildings on fire, and breaking shit. Meisha and I weren’t involved in any of that crap—we were at a bar, knocking back shots and surveying a mostly barren room. We weren’t guy hunting, just hanging out, but alcohol tends to get us both a little, uh…yeah.
It was Meisha who started things. Some dudes sat in the corner, celebrating some shitty excuse for a birthday party, and after downing her fourth shot of something which stank and burned but turned your brain upside-down real quick, she marched over to their table, slung her breasts in their face, and flirted until they were heading into a backroom.
Meisha’s moans shook the damn table, and I’m not exaggerating—I think she gets off on the whole world knowing how much she loves getting rammed. I gulped two more shots and waited, awkwardly. See, this was before Meisha and I were a ‘thing’, but I was already into her. Can you tell this wasn’t my happiest moment? The bartender, a snazzy-looking dude with a bow-tie and a flat cap understood my struggle and gave me a full bottle to enjoy, on the house.
But I didn’t want any more to drink. My stomach flip-flops after about five shots and I wasn’t looking to puke everywhere. Also, the bartender’s kindness had me squirming in my seat. Like I said, I don’t need much in my system to get my going, and I couldn’t get my eyes off the bartender’s groin. He wasn’t hard, but I could see the vaguest outline of his cock, and I wanted it, so I decided to shoot my shot.
“Borin’ night,” I said, tapping my finger against the bottle he’d placed in front of me. “You’d expect more customers on a night like this.”
“I’m not particularly popular around here. People think my drinks taste like rat piss.” My mouth opened to ask if they are rat piss, but he was already shaking his head. “No. Of course not. I mean, I at least I don’t think.”
By this town’s standards, that was about the answer I expected. “Burn’s going down, but it does the job.”
Meisha let free a particularly wild moan that had us both looking toward the backroom. “Not a boring night for everyone,” the bartender said.
“Just us.”
“Yeah.”
Awkward silence filled the air as he scrubbed a glass he’d already cleaned twice during our conversation. We’d exhausted our small-talk, so I pressed my elbows against the table, squeezed my boobs tight between them, and leaned forward. “Doesn’t have to be, though.”
“What?”
“Our night. It doesn’t have to be so borin’.” I paused, anticipating a Meisha moan, and it came louder than expected. “We could make it fun.”
“Fun?” He was the kind of guy you had to spell everything out for. Cute.
I grabbed the top of my shirt, a raggedy crop-top I bought for less than five bucks in a thrift store that probably won’t survive the celebrations of tonight, and slid it down, exposing one of my breasts. His eyes locked onto it; my eyes locked onto his groin, where that vague outline grew more prominent.
“Oh,” he simply said.
“Oh,” I simply replied, smirking. “So, wanna have some fun?”
He nodded happily. Drool wasn’t leaking out his mouth, but he made a face like it would start if he stood there gawking any longer, so I pressed my hands flat against the counter and thrusted myself across it, giving him a long and slopping kiss. As I did this, the crop-top fled down onto my belly, letting both my tits fully fall out. As my lips ran across his neck, he softly massaged them, circling his thumbs around my nipples until my legs shook, wobbling the bar stool beneath me.
“Let’s go somewhere more private,” I whispered. “We start fuckin’ here and pervs will flock to the windows like birds.”
“I live just upstairs,” he said, moaning as my hand found his groin—his cock was rearing to go, now, and I lightly stroked it through his pants. “B-but if you’re okay with it, I’m kind of into some kinky stuff.”
“Oh, I’m definitely okay with that.”
***
My entire body shuddered as he snapped the collar around my neck.
Listen, I’m gonna be honest—I’ve done stuff like this before, and I dig it. Being tied up…well, it’s somewhat of a ‘thing’ for me. A fetish, or whatever. So when he tugged the leash, pulled me off my knees, and sank his firm hands into the fat of my ass, I couldn’t help but lay my head against his chest, shaking with anticipation. We were both naked, and his cock poked between my legs, rubbing against my pussy.
“You sure you’re okay with this?”
“I’m fine,” I said, smiling at him.
He nodded. “All right. But, since you are going to be restrained, I still want to have a safe-word.”
“Cookies,” I said innocently. “What? Don’t give me that look. After gettin’ fucked I always love eatin’ cookies. Where’s the shame in that?”
“Strange, but I dig it.” He reached down to my wrists and gave the rope binding them a good tug. “My knotting skills aren’t anything special, but this is secure enough. You ready to go?”
I answered that by giving the head of his cock a smooch. “Yes sir.”
“Very formal. I like it.” The bartender then produced a blindfold from his pocket and slid it over my eyes. Seconds later I felt the wetness of his lips against my nipple as he sucked my breast, and when I started squirming, he put one hand against my back and guided me down onto the bed, where I felt his hard cock press against the warmth of my pussy. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“Please fuck me.”
He slipped his hands underneath of me, wrapping his arms around my waist and hugging me tight as he slid himself inside. When I moaned, he stole my breath with a kiss that tingled my lips. My phone, which vibrating obnoxiously because Meisha was stuffing it with texts, was easy to ignore. I’d feed her all the gory details later.
“Does that…feel good?”
“Great,” I said, pressing my hands against his chest as he pounded into me. “Really…great…”
I tugged at my bindings and found he was right—these weren’t coming off anytime soon. I wanted so desperately to hug him, to pull him in close, but the fact that I couldn’t, that I was entirely his to do with whatever he wanted, stirred some part of me to life that I kept hidden from everyone else, the girl who liked to be dominated. Every thrust pushed me closer to the edge, and just when I was about to let loose, he yanked my leash hard enough to pull me off the mattress and into his lap. Immediately we kissed.
“You need to ask permission before you cum,” he calmly stated, and I nodded.
Then he flipped me over and pushed me down belly-first onto the bed. He hiked my butt into the air and let himself rest against it. This was just to friggin’ taunt me and it was working. I was just about to start begging when he finally began fucking me again, this time more forcefully than ever before, jiggling my entire body as he held onto my hips.
Who knew this bartender, with his friendly smile and kind voice, would be so voracious. I had talked to the dude more than a dozen times and never did I expect one day he’d put a collar around my neck and pull my leash as he left splotchy cherry hand-prints across my pale ass. I gnawed the pillow my face was against, trying hard to stave off cumming for as long as possible.
But, eventually, I just couldn’t take anymore. My body told me it was going to happen no matter how badly I wanted to wait.
“I’m about to cum,” I moaned, and he tugged my leash to remind me that I needed to ask. “P-please…”
“Please what?”
“Please…sir.”
“Go ahead,” he said, ringing his hand across my ass again.
Those words sent an explosion coursing those me, causing my limbs to shake as he continued on, going deeper and deeper, clapping his hands over my mouth to keep me from moaning the neighbors out of their house. Too quickly it was over, and I fell against the bed, limp and satisfied. “Fuck.”
As he pulled out, I rolled over, and felt his balls drag across my chest before his cock poked my lips, desiring entry. He didn’t have to order me to open them—I was glad to swallow his cum, to let him fill me up, to make him feel good. It only took him a few good thrusts to let loose, and when he was done, he patted my head. “Good girl,” he said.
Then, with his cum in my belly, he pulled my blindfold off, undid the rope, and hugged me softly. Through the fireworks, and drunken New Years cheering, we slept, and it was the best goddamned sleep I’ve had in forever.
And that, dear diary, is all you’re getting tonight.
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