One Way Street by Elizabeth Colvin

Josh was really vanilla for a kinky boy. I met him at a BDSM fetish event, and we hit it off immediately. He was mostly a top (and made a very good one), but switched quite wonderfully when I took charge, and he had whispered an unsolicited “Yes, Mistress” on a few occasions. But when I showed him my harness and my collection of dildos, he told me that was something he would never want to do.

“Oh, come on,” I asked him, like I was channeling some sleazy guy trying to get into a virgin’s pants. “Please? I promise I’ll make it good.”

“That’s a one-way street,” he said.

I’ll admit, I should have left it there. I mean, he’d made his wishes clear, and there were plenty of other things we loved doing together. But Josh had that hint of a submissive streak that made me want to exploit him in a bad, bad way. And knowing his ass was virgin made me want even more to explore it, to make him beg for it. It didn’t hurt that Josh had an incredible ass; he worked out five times a week and spent enough time on the stair-stepper to make his cheeks rock-solid, as firm and masculine as can be — which only made me want to open them up even more. Sure, I believe in consensuality, but I can dream, can’t I?

Maybe I dreamed a little too much. I was obsessed with the idea of fucking Josh’s ass. When he fucked me, even if I was saying “Yes, Master” or “Yes, Daddy” I would grip his buttocks firmly and imagine driving into them mercilessly, taking him as I uttered my promises of obedience. When his cock was in my mouth, my hands would slip under and feel his muscled thighs, wanting so badly to slide up between his cheeks and open them wide for my strap-on.

Then I realized that I could have the best of both worlds.

Josh was a little drunk, so I never should have done what I did. But I was a little drunk, too — just a little — so I couldn’t stop myself, or at least that’s what I claimed later. Besides, Josh hardly tried to stop me.

We’d been out to a nice dinner and each had several glasses of wine. As soon as we got home we started making out on the couch. I was incredibly turned on; Josh always turned me on. He asked me if I wanted to go to bed, and I responded by dropping to my knees in front of the couch and unbuckling his pants.

His cock felt good in my mouth, the way it always did. It turned me on so much too feel him deep inside me, his thick head pressing against the entrance to my throat. But tonight, for some reason, all I could think about was getting his pants off so I could feel his ass in my hands as I sucked him.

Just a little bit. Maybe I’d just touch it a little bit.

“Take off your shoes,” I told him, and he kicked them off quickly. I reached under him and he lifted his ass off the sofa as I slipped his pants down over his ass, my body giving a shiver as I felt his firm cheeks against my hands. His briefs came next; I slipped them off as he took off his shirt. I might have been imagining things, but after he was naked I could have sworn he pushed his ass up to the edge of the sofa to give me better access.

I descended on his cock with a fury, wanting it more than I’ve ever wanted anything — except his ass. I cupped his buttocks, my fingers digging into them as I ran my lips and tongue up and down his glorious shaft. I licked my way down to his balls and he moaned as I lavished affection on them. I slipped my arms under his knees and not-so-subtly propped his legs over my shoulders as I took his balls into my mouth, savoring them. I licked my way back up to his cock and slid up and down on it, tasting his pre-come as I suckled on the shaft. I went back down to his balls and listened to his inviting moans as I teased them with my tongue.

Then I pushed his legs up high and licked down behind his balls.

For a moment, I thought he was going to protest, but when my tongue slipped between his cheeks all I heard was a low, lavish moan of ecstasy. I felt his asshole, tight and unyielding, against the tip of my tongue and I felt a pulse of heat go through my body. I was so wet I was dripping.

I pushed his legs up higher and licked deeper into his ass, feeling him relax as I explored.

“Hey,” he breathed. “You’re not going to–”

“Not unless you beg for it,” I said, and returned to licking his ass, plunging deep into it as I heard him moaning louder. I curled my arm around his thigh and gripped his cock, stroking it as I savored his virgin asshole. I was telling the truth — I wouldn’t have dreamed of taking his ass with my strap-on until he begged for it.

Well, maybe just a little.

But for now I was taking him with my tongue, feeling his asshole relax and invite me in. I pumped his cock as I tongued him deeper, hearing him gasp and feeling him squirm against me. I pushed him up higher until his ass was hanging entirely over the edge of the sofa, and he had to hang on to keep from falling. But my shoulders were there to catch him, and he knew he was safe. I buried my tongue deep inside him and kept working his cock as the pitch of his moans told me he was going to come.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped as he exploded in my hand, shooting come all over his belly and my fingers. I moaned myself as I drove deep between his perfect cheeks, loving the way his asshole matched the pulses of his cock as he spurted.

I licked my way up over his balls, over his softening cock, and hungrily lapped at the streaks of come that covered his stomach — all the way up to his chest, past his nipples.

He sounded nervous as he said, “You know that’s a one-way street, right?”

“Mm-hmm,” I told him, kissing his cock. “Of course it is.”

About the author:

Elizabeth Colvin is a journalist with a dirty mind; she enjoys domination and submission almost as much as she loves shopping for shoes. She has been widely published in a variety of erotic collections and online outlets: she cautions strangers never to interrupt that quiet girl in the café corner with a MacBook Pro and Prada heels.

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