#125) Booty Call – SEXUAL CONTENT

I met a cute girl, Dee. I feel I have to dissect that simple sentence because it’s actually conveying volumes. I found her very pretty; she described herself as a girl-next-door type. I’d also describe her as pert and perky and pixie-like. Those are adjectives that people used about me ten years ago. I’m thirty-two, Dee is twenty-three. So she seems childlike and innocent to me, even though she’s more experienced and worldly than I am in many ways. I’ve only experimented a little with lesbian sex, Dee has had several relationships with other women. And Dee doesn’t like her given name. All of that subtext was conveyed in my first sentence, if you knew me and what to look for.
“Diana, isn’t that the name of a goddess?” I asked when we met for coffee on a Thursday afternoon.
“Yeah, I hate it, please call me Dee.”
“Okay… but I like it. It’s poetic.”
“I used to get teased about it in school. We took a class on mythology. Diana is the Roman goddess of chastity, hunting, and the moon. A cool girl, Marcia Sosnowski, blurted out, “That’s perfect! Our Diana is a virgin with a big round butt!” Dee blushed at the recollection. Then her eyes returned to mine when she added, “I’m no longer a virgin…”
It was my turn to blush. I wanted to fuck her right there in the Starbucks. I had to edit myself from saying, “Thankfully you still have that big, round butt!” Instead we moved on to other, less charged topics like colleges attended, jobs past and present, and what brought these two Northern Yankees to this deep Southern town. The coffee klatch turned into a marathon conversation of over three hours. There was definite attraction. We exchanged phone numbers, saying we’d call one another, and I meant it.
Dee kept returning to my mind. I couldn’t sleep Thursday night. I got up and poured myself a second glass of wine, this time a large one. I masturbated while sipping it, images of Dee coming to me as I came, her face, both smiling as I saw and what it might look like when cumming, that beautiful bottom, what it would look like in various stages of undress, what her tits must be like, given the glimpse I got of her cleavage.
This was probably a mistake because I got ahead of myself with her. It felt like we’d shared intimacies that we had not yet. I felt like I was falling in love with her, when I was just drowning in lust. I looked at my watch. It was past eleven thirty. I looked for my cell phone and when I found it, looked for Dee’s number. Should I apologize for calling so late, make excuses by confessing that I’d never made a booty call before? I wondered as I dialed and heard it ring.
“Hello.”
She didn’t sound like I’d awoken her. “Hi, it’s Jeanie. I couldn’t sleep and I was thinking about you…” I stated honestly.
“I feel flattered.”
“You should,” I breathed, looking at my jism-sticky fingers. There was a silent pause. Stay with honesty but not TMI, I told myself, “Um, you want to come over?”
“Yeah, I could do that. Give me your address” And when I had, she finished by saying, “I’ll be over…” and I expected her to say ASAP, but she didn’t. She said,” … lickety-split.”
The phone went dead as I repeated to myself that wonderful turn of phrase, “Lickety-split.” Suddenly I felt nervous about the myriad of unknowns ahead. Should I jill-off again to take that edge off? No, I wanted to feel the keen blade of need cut into me until Dee addressed it. I washed my hands. Should I get dressed? No, honesty has worked so far, keep with it. Answer the door as you are.
Just a few minutes later, in response to the knock, I did just that, saying, “You got here lickety-split.”
Dee’s eyes scanned my nudity in silence. I never felt more naked. Standing there in the open doorway, Dee began to disrobe, saying, “Yeah, it turns out we live close… I thought about stopping off to pick-up a pizza… but didn’t want to delay… things.”
“I’m glad you didn’t… delay things. But I am glad you came!”
“If I’d realized it was a come-as-you-are party, I wouldn’t have worn all these silly clothes,” Dee said with a slight shiver, naked as I was.
I pulled her inside and closed the door. We embraced, hands wandering, lips meeting. When they parted, my hands found her backside. “So this is the infamous big, round butt…” I turned her around, slid to my knees to kiss it, pat it, pinch it, worship it.
She didn’t let me do this as long as I would’ve liked, got down with me and returned the compliment. “I see you have one, too…” And her kisses followed the undercurve of a cheek to delve into my crack.
I gasped at the welcomed intrusion, the magical mantra escaping my lips with a sigh, “My, we got down to this lickety-split!” Then I recovered myself enough to add, “Let’s not do this here. The bedroom will be much more comfortable.”
Dee pulled me back down to the parquet floor. “I don’t think sex should be reserved just for the bedroom. Let’s christen every room, starting right here…” We were each lying on our sides, our heads resting on the other’s inner thigh, the other leg raised so that pussies were proffered. Dee parted my labia with her fingers and took a tentative lick. I mirrored her and reciprocated on her. Within moments we were really going at it, tongues working on erect clitties like two cats lapping at milk, fingers working into wet and fragrant vaginas. We were both building to a crescendo when I broke the circuit and pulled my head back to loll on her soft thigh.
“I can’t… it’s too intense! I can’t concentrate on you with all the pleasure pouring through me! Sixty-nine has never worked for me…”
Dee smiled with understanding, spun around so that we were facing, and kissed me. I tasted my juices on her mouth, I’m sure she did, too. It was sloppy and passionate and pure fun. Her fingers were back inside me. I pressed my mouth hard on hers, loving the softness of her. I pushed my pussy out to accept Dee’s diddling, open to her expert urgings. I came.
“Good girl!” Dee praised and I smiled, radiating all the glow I felt in my sex and in my heart on my face. Then she took me by the hand. “We’ve christened the foyer,” she giggled, “where to next?” There were only two options in my small apartment, either to the left and straight up the flight of stairs, or to the right into the living room. We went that way. “Beautiful décor!” Dee complimented the monochromatic white furnishings. “Have you ever made love in here?”
“I haven’t dared,” I tentatively replied.
“If we put down lots of towels, would you feel okay about trying?” I nodded, energized by the innovativeness of it all; this girl liked to bend the rules, and I, as a life-long rule follower, found her refreshingly scary. Then I sprinted to the linen closet and brought back a stack of fluffy terrycloth. “Didn’t I read,” Dee continued, “on your Fetlife profile, that you’re a spanko/submissive?” I nodded again, not trusting my voice to be able to articulate my deepest desires. “Well, I think somebody needs a spanking…” she teased as we spread towels over the seat-cushions of the white couch and the white carpeted floor in front of it.
My need found voice, “I’d love to take a hard spanking from you…!” I whispered.
“Good girl,” Dee repeated. I wanted to hear her say those magic words more. “Your safe word is ‘red’ and I want you to use it if we get too heavy… But I hope you won’t. I want to whip the hell out of you tonight…!” As soon as she sat, I was prepared to dive across her knee and offer my ass to her palm, but Divine Diana had other ideas. She positioned me in the wheelbarrow position, my bum still perched on her lap but rotated ninety degrees, with a leg on each side of her. Dee threw a pillow down onto the floor for my elbows to lean on. “I like this position more…” Her fingers parted my labial lips and tickled me there. The fingers of her other hand parted my buttocks and teased my rosebud. She proved to be wonderfully ambidextrous! I surprised both of us by climaxing suddenly and violently. “Oh, you ARE a naughty girl…” she admonished, then began spanking me. She used both hands to punishingly slap each cheek, intermittently using both hands to playfully pleasure both holes. I felt so exposed, so vulnerable, so in need to what Dee promised. I arched my ass up and back towards her wantonly, my body language crying out for more, unabashed at how obscenely I opened myself to her. I felt exposed as what I was at my essence, a spank-whore, a glutton for punishment. She spanked me mercilessly hard in a short period of time, then continued to spank me that way long into the night, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of me. The expert chastisement would have been enough, but her knowledgeable fingers guaranteed that I was reduced to a quivering mass of complete release. It was a creative, cruel rollercoaster that she had me on. With both hard hands, Dee spanked me to the brink of the pinnacle of ecstasy, then with the talented fingers of each hand, Dee frigged my pussy and finger-fucked my asshole until I spent with a squirt or a gush, with a gasp or a scream. When I was absolutely spent, exhausted, and limp, Dee leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Good girl!”
She helped me turn around, I cuddled into her, aching for her aftercare. Dee lavished it on me, telling me how magnificent she found my fanny, how much she enjoyed spanking it, how well I took everything she could dish out, how erotic she found me, how fulfilling it was to bring a responsive woman to orgasm, I stopped her litany with a passionate kiss.
When our lips parted, I demanded, “Tell me what I want to hear…” Dee looked down at me with a blank, questioning expression, so I continued, “That I’m a good girl,” and I kissed her, “That I’m your good girl,” and another kiss was shared, “That I’m yours and you are mine.” We kissed. I felt all of her affirmations in her kiss. But when our mouths had to part and we each gasped for air, Dee repeated each of those statements aloud and proudly while gazing into my eyes with one hand stroking my hair and the other caressing my glowing glutes. I was content, content to spend the night just like this, content to go to my bedroom and sleep the rest of the night away in an embrace there.
But then a thought crossed my mind, a thought so upsetting it made me sit up straight.
“You haven’t cum yet!”
Dee laughed, “You were a little preoccupied. I came three separate times while playing with you.”
Somewhat appeased, I returned, “But I came about eighteen times!”
“Then let’s continue. What room do we christen next?” My eyes went from the living room we were in to the adjoining dining room. Her eyes followed mine. “And what’s your favorite implement to be punished with, Jeanie?”
“Now it’s both of your bare hands.”
“Implement, Jeanie?”
“Any of the leather belts in my closet. The thinner ones hurt more…”
She set me on my feet and stood. “Go get your thickest belt and bring it back to me. I want this to be more sensual than punishing. Meet me back at your dining room table.” I obeyed. She took the belt from me and put it on the polished table, then bent me over its edge. My engorged sex met the rounded edge of the hard wood, they kissed, like lovers who were introduced at a sex party and were about to do a scene together. The chemistry between them was immediately palpable to me, the heat ignited. The rest was cool and impersonal, the way its smooth surface met with my rounded curves, especially my hard-nippled tits. I reached out and gripped the far edge, then looked back at my lover.
Dee picked up the thick belt and doubled it in her hand. “I wanted to test your limits with the spanking. You responded wonderfully well with the way you took my hard spanking.” I was about to interject that her fingering of my horny holes helped, but she didn’t seem to want my input. “This is different. I’m going to strap you with moderate licks to arouse you, tease you, tantalize you. Your getting off gets me off. I’m going to masturbate while whipping you…”
It all sounded mind-blowing to me. I only added, “Please put a towel down under my feet. I’m gonna need it.”
Dee did, while I starting rubbing against the table-edge, scissoring my thighs. The pilot-light that had been lit flamed higher. CRACK! The belt kissed my cheeks. Its mild sting turned into a pervasive warmth. I stole a glimpse at my lover. Her hazel eyes were focused in a laser-like ray on my ass, her fingers of her non-dominant hand were focused in a square-dance-like promenade around her clit. We were off to the races. Dee worked my bottom over with leather, I worked my clit against the table, while she worked herself into a lather. In the wheelbarrow, she had wrenched the orgasms out of me. Now, over the table, the orgasms flowed out of me in waves. She set a pace like a reliable metronome, cracking the thick leather across my soft hide in a steady beat. It was music to my ears, as the heat she imbued into my ass flesh was magic to my sex.
“I’m gonna cum!” I announced. I like to do this; it seems to assure that the elusive orgasm will actually transpire.
“I’m gonna join you!” Dee responded, and she strapped me through climaxes that made each of us squealing and screaming.
I collapsed on the smooth-finished table covered with sweat and jism, and Dee collapsed on top of me in the same state of euphoria.
“How’s your bottom?” Dee asked me when we both could speak once more.
“Hot,” I replied, stating the obvious.
“Sore?”
“A little, not enough to stop playing…” I answered. We strolled hand-in-hand into the kitchen. Almost casually, Dee selected a large spatula from out of a container of kitchen tools.
“How did you know that that was one of my favorite pervertibles?” I smiled.
“Because it would be one of mine,” she returned with a dazzling smile of her own. She opened a French-door to reveal my washer/drier. She twisted a dial on the drier and it rumbled to life. She pushed me over the edge of the appliance, my crotch again finding the front edge, just as I had on the dining room table. But this was vibrating pleasantly and radiating warmth. “The reason I asked about the condition of your bottom is that I don’t want to bear down on you too hard…”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” I bragged boldly, “I’ve had partners say that it seems to be made of cast-iron…”
“Is that so?” she challenged.
I nodded.
“Spit on this,” she commanded, holding the rubber spatula to my mouth. I did. “Again!” I complied. “It’ll sting worse when wet…!” and she gave me a lick with the implement on my right cheek. It did sting like the dickens!
“OW!”
Undeterred, she gave my left buttock a swat. It hurt just as much. I tried to stifle an outcry. Dee saw this and laid into me, administering ten sound spanks hard and fast to that same side of my ass. I whimpered, her cue to switch and address my other bum cheek with an equal dose.
“When your ass has had enough, just say the word. We do have other options…”
“What do you mean?” I asked wincing from the onslaught to my butt.
Dee gave the tender inner upper part of my thigh a hard slap with the tool. It made me flinch and moan.
“I’ve never…”
“What? Been spanked in other places besides your wonderful round ass? That ends now…” And she gave me a hard set on each thigh, sat me on the lid of the drier and gave me just as many on each of my small tits. It was agony, it hurt more than I could’ve imagined, I loved every second of it.
Dee helped me down from the drier. I wanted to enclose her in an embrace, Dee wasn’t done. She took a painful pinch of my erect nipple, like a stern mother would the ear of an errant child, and marched me out of the pantry, up the stairs to my bedroom, punctuating every other step with another swat from that spatula to my ass, legs, even between my legs on my engorged pussy.
In my boudoir, Dee scanned the room. “Do you have a place where you keep toys and such in here?”
I pointed to the bottom drawer in a bedside table. “Kneel on the bed,” she commanded and I willingly obeyed. She opened my secret drawer without asking permission, but I felt at this moment as though my life was an open book to her. I wanted her to read me. I wanted to read and memorize reciprocal stories about her. She took out certain items with keen interest, even relish. Her leers and smiles were intended to shame me for the contents of this drawer. It worked, and I liked the humiliation more than I thought I would.
“What’s this…?” she smirked, taking a flogger in hand. It was made of plastic with a six inch handle and twenty tails about nine inches in length.
“My favorite whip. It looks silly, but it really stings!”
She put it on the bed in front of my nose. “I know how to make it even stingier. Tie a knot in each of the tails… Do it.”
I set about the task before me, knowing that this improvement would multiply its efficacy, which both thrilled and intimidated me.
“I know what this is,” she said as she withdrew a tube of KY Jelly from the drawer. She opened it, gave my anus a small squirt, then coated the handle of that spatula. Before I could put two and two together, Dee inserted that handle deep up my ass. Dee bit her lip coquettishly as I gasped. “Hold onto that. If it slips out of your ass, I’m gonna whip your titties again with it, harder and longer.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I panted while still knotting the tails.
“And I know what this is…” Dee exulted, taking my strap-on out. “We’ll use that later… Now, did you earn your Girl Scouts knots badge, or punishment, sweet heart?” She took the flogger from my hands, noticing all but two of the tails were now more lethal. “Good girl!” she smiled. “Stick your ass out for me.”
I didn’t know exactly what to expect, but knew it was going to be memorable. Dee took hold of the flat end of the spatula and worked it in and out of my grip behind, then flicked the flogger across my bum below the handle. The anal play blew my mind, the flogger did hurt exponentially more. I’d always felt that I could feel ach one of those tails as they bit into my tail; now I was sure that I could feel all those god-damned knots! I grunted my approval. Dee was ambidextrous, fucking my shitter with one hand and whipping the shit out of me adroitly with the other.
I came. Vociferously and vehemently and very satisfyingly, which elicited a loving, “Good girl!” from my partner. “Do you have another in you?”
I nodded emphatically, so my new lover continued her ministrations, whipping my butt and fucking my butthole. I came again, and again.
“Well, I think we’ve worked you into a good lather…” she announced. “Listen… both the spatula and the flogger and this strap-on are all made of plastic or rubber; do you mind if we take them into the shower to play…?”
I was not capable of formulating words at that moment, but had no argument with her suggestion, so shook my head. Dee kept the spatula handle buried up my tooter and held it in place with one hand as she picked up the other toys with her other hand. She steered me into the bathroom, and then the shower stall. Dee started the water’s flow and waited for it to heat up before guiding me under its stream.
“Reach back and hold this,” she said of the spatula handle protruding out of my posterior. Her hands were then free to cinch herself into my strap-on. “Now, you’re in charge of fucking your ass, while I fuck your vag with this. If you stop, or even slow down, I’m gonna whip you somewhere on your front, maybe your titties, maybe your pussy, maybe the fronts of your thighs. Are you clear on what I expect from you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, my cunny creaming in anticipation.
“Oh, and one more thing… you can’t cum until say you can. No matter how splendid the fucking is, you better not climax, or I’ll turn you around, pull that spatula from your grip, and punish your ass hard with it. If you think it stung with a little spittle on it before, you ain’t seen nothing compared to what it feels like under this hot water… Clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I repeated but now with anxiety overtaking the anticipation.
“Oh! I like how this strap-on rubs against my pussy!” she enthused as she pushed the business end into me while holding the butt end against her sex. She began thrusting and withdrawing, fucking me good and proper. She sighed audibly. “I’m having fun! How ‘bout you, Sweetness?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied dumbly, trying to keep pace behind with what she was doing to my front. As she pumped my pussy, Dee rotated her wrist in a repetitive circular motion, flicking the flogger across my sensitive nipples. It was incredible, it was incendiary; I concentrated hard so as not to burst into flames. She set a steady beat, like a metronome, driving me onward toward ecstasy. Dee added syncopation with the faster front-loaded fucking of my snatch. I tried to ass fuck myself, but it all became too much. I felt like I’d been taken full circle, right back to how I felt in the foyer with our attempt at sixty-nine.
“I can’t! Red! Red! The sensations are too much! I can’t concentrate on doing as you told me to my bum, I can’t keep from cumming for much longer. It’s all too much, too delicious!”
Dee flashed a self-satisfied smile, like she’d just beaten me at chess, out-thought me, out-maneuvered me, beaten me. “It was cruel of me to deprive you of a well-deserved climax…” she confessed, then continued, “You ought to know that about me… sometimes I can be cruel. Do you forgive me?”
I nodded, wanting to take her in my arms and kiss her. Dee had other ideas.
“It seems only fair that I suffer a consequence…” she said with a glint in her eye. “Will you switch and Top me?” She gingerly pulled the spatula from out of my butt and held it up to the shower nozzle to clean it off. “Will you paddle me with this?”
Again I nodded. Dee handed the handle to me, turned around under the still-cascading water spray, unbuckled the strap-on’s harness and stepped out of it.
“Please put this on,” she asked, holding it back toward me and jutting her ass out back towards me too. “Paddle me and fuck me and paddle me some more and Top me harshly. I want it, I need it!”
I put my strap-on on and tightened the straps, loving the power it bestowed with a schlong hanging between my legs. I gave Dee’s proffered tush a sharp smack with the flat end of the spatula. By the way her flesh jumped, I could tell that it stung under the water more than she anticipated. But she covered her surprise by whispering, “Yes…”
This was uncharted territory for me. I’d fantasized about Dominating a woman, but had never given myself permission to full commit. I beat a tattoo into Dee gorgeous ass. As if that wasn’t enough, Dee leaned on her left forearm on the tile wall and reached back with her right, where she still held that flogger, and gave her bum periodic lashes with it in between my paddle swats. We her ass was really red, she called over her shoulder, “Fuck me…” She parted her thighs and leaned back at me seductively.
“Which hole?” I muttered.
“You choose, either one you want… Both! Fuck me…”
I pushed into her hot pussy from behind. I wanted to cup her tits and/or frig her clit, so dropped the spatula, which clattered on the tile floor. Dee apparently didn’t want to play nice. She kept up the steady cadence with the flogger, sometimes whipping her cheeks, sometimes catching my butt with a lash. It urged us on at an ever faster pace. She stiffened, we froze in place under the hot waterfall, cried out, and came.
I wasn’t sated, so pulled the strap-on’s prick out of her still-spasming pussy and eased it up her butt. I absolutely adored the long, soft moan that came from deep inside Dee as I penetrated her deeply. I wound my left fist in her hair and pulled her head back so as to whisper in her ear, “Now I even the score, Sweetness!” I took the flogger from her hand and gave her a lick between the legs. “Like your pussy whipped? You had me pussy-whipped, had me under your thumb, but no longer…” I flicked the whip across her tits several times. I couldn’t tell which got to her more, so kept whipping all these areas in rotation. I could tell that Dee was gonna climax again soon. I didn’t think she was fully present with me, so could risk saying what was on my mind, in my heart.
“Diana, I’ve loved everything about this evening, christening every room with our lovemaking, getting to know you intimately. I don’t think that you think this way, but you are incredible, fascinating, someone I want to fuck for a long time to come, someone I’m falling in love with! This turned out to be more than just a booty call, Dee dear, it was the start of an infatuation.” I punctuated almost every word with a thrust of my pelvis, hammering my salient points home. Dee’s teeth were bared, her pretty face scrunched into a grimace, she gave the impression of a spring being coiled tighter and tighter, her whole body stiffening. Everything except her butt. That she kept relaxed, both the exterior musculature and the delicate internal sphincter, which I kept hammering relentlessly. Her scream signaled that my efforts were not in vain. Dee climaxed and fainted into my embrace.
When she revived a minute later her first words were, “What happened?”
“Nothing. Let’s towel-off and go to bed. You can spend the rest of the night, can’t you?”

8 responses to “#125) Booty Call – SEXUAL CONTENT”

    • I have written SO MUCH over the past several weeks, A.J., I’m not sure if I included the full exposition in this story about both of them being on Fetlife. But, as you probably know, you CAN put your city, state, country on your Fet profile, if you so desire. I listed Iceland as mine, for anonymity, as many do with some fictional place or another.

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