Delightfully unique- whatever or whomever I'm writing in consent, romance, and lust.
This morning (Sunday), I visited a church I used to be a member at; I had the moment to talk about chest binding and paternalistic male plastic surgeons. That to say that the inspiration picture wasn't intriguing to me. Instead, I wanted to share something that happened recently...
“Quickie before gaming, Master?” I lift my shirt enough to show off my wiggling, naked butt.
“Really? When I'm this close to leaving?” Master laughs.
“You can use me like a fucktoy, Master.” I turn around and he pushes me onto the bed.
He drops his jeans to the floor and steps out of them. He grabs my calves and throws my legs up on his shoulders.
In this moment, I remember my chest binder beneath his shirt- he still wants me.
He thrusts into my cunt.
I am more woman than man right now.
His thrusts are fast.
I squeeze and release my cunt muscles around his cock. I take a fluttering breath as his pubic hair pushes against my masculine vulva. The shuddering breaths become grunts as I feel the spirals of pleasurable climax in my clit and cunt. “Ca-ca-ca-” I stutter.
“Come, slut.” Master slaps my cheeks lightly, pushing my orgasm higher.
My gaze shoots back and forth over Master's face.
His eyes squeeze shut.
“Fill me! Please!” I cry out, my lungs to tight to scream.
He grunts and stills before rolling onto the bed beside me. “I hate to fuck and run-”
“But guys are waiting to play Guild Ball. Love you, Master.”
“Love you, brat.” Master pushes to the edge of the bed to grab his underwear and jeans.
I grin at my cum-filled cunt.