Don’t you know, girl, you’ll be a woman soon
Please, come take my hand
Girl, you’ll be a woman soon
Soon, you’ll need a man
-Urge Overkill / Neil Diamond, Girl You’ll Be A Woman Soon
Happy Birthday to a certain Miss Tumblr who has been a part of the blog for a very long time now. My gift to you is this fantasy. I hope it brings an orgasm or two to your fun day. You rock. Hope you have a fucking blast tomorrow.
Girl, You’ll Be A Woman Soon
A man twice your age boards an airplane for a conference in your hometown. You’ve known he was coming for some time now. Months ago, you got excited but each morning draws one step closer now and excitement is turning into nervousness.
He started toying with you a long time ago, yet here you are, about to see what what life looks like at the hands of an astute and passionate man.
An older man. Handsome, yet not model handsome. Strong, yet not model fit. Old, but not too old.
Yet what he possesses is unique and far more intriguing than your prior men.
What he has, is a vision and knowledge to be 100% in-tuned with a woman’s body like no man before him in which you have encountered. But even then, that is still not the draw. That is still not it.
The draw is, that he is hell-bent and determined on using this knowledge, to bring you and your body to a new level like never before. Challenging himself against you. Planning and preparing to break you down, pick you up, and put you back together like a shattered glass doll.
Young, confident, and naive, you called his bluff.
Bad idea, little girl.
Sexy lingerie just arrived at your doorstep from Amazon. Now you start getting nervous. Not because of the lingerie, but because you know what else he bought that you don’t have with you.
A plug-in Hitachi wand, lube, restraints with cuffs for each bedpost, a blindfold, ball gag, nipple clamps, a flogger, and tickler, all being picked up from an Amazon locker just down the street on his way from the airport to the hotel.
You start to feel the signs of his resolve, well before you taste his salt or smell his cologne. As soon the package arrived, your pussy clenched up and got wet with excitement while your heart skipped a beat in fear.
“What the fuck am I getting myself into?”, you keep thinking.
“Bound, to a bed, with a Hitachi on my clit and a sinister man who has been here before? Seriously? Maybe I should shut my mouth next time.”
Too late, princess. Too late.
The day has arrived now and Uber drops you off at the hotel he is staying at, just minutes from your house. Down the corridor you walk, heart skipping a beat. White stockings clipped to your garter, a G string of matching lace tickling your ass as you nervously walk past each door.
“327 is the room,” you tell yourself.
302 you walk past first. Then turn the corner, 313.
“Oh shit. I am close now,” you think.
327 on the door. You stand outside wondering what the fuck this room is going to look like when you get inside. Some sort of makeshift traveling sex dungeon that is going to rip endorphins out of your body like a tornado hit you.
He heard the first knock but doesn’t get up. He wants to make you think about it longer. The foreplay is a months long process and he isn’t going to get anxious now.
You knock again, like a good girl would.
The door opens and you see a man in front of you with a confidence about him that is just intoxicating. He says nothing but opens the door wide, as to imply, you should walk in.
Residence Inn Marriotts tend to be nice like this in that they really are like studio apartments, so the kitchen and living area is what you see first.
“Huh, no sex dungeon,” you think.
You really are adorable.
The door closes and a hand goes around your neck and he kisses you like you have the last oxygen left in the world. He tastes of bourbon and for some reason you like the taste you once hated before.
Then he backs away, and walks into the “other room.”
You know you are supposed to follow him, and you are starting to get wise to the fact that being a brat right now will not work in your best interest, so you do as you are expected, and walk in there after him.
Then you see it.
A white bedding with four cuffs and harnesses fixed under the mattress. What looks like a million black leather and plastic toys and trinkets, all laid out on the foot of the bed as if he were going to be performing surgery.
He sits down. Sees your face, looks at your body, and says one word:
That is your cue to take off everything but your white lingerie. You don’t feel like pushing your luck now and pretending you don’t know what he means. That would just mean more black leather toys.
Contrasting your dark melanin beauty, the white pops and makes you look even that much more sexy.
You know you fucking look good. Now it’s your time to shine, you tell yourself.
And shine you do.
Bending over intentionally as you disrobe, your thick ass on your little frame is eating him alive yet his face is stoic and not like anything you have ever seen in another man before him. Inside him, he is a kid on Christmas morning. Outside, he playing poker.
You think “he either is hiding his excitement very well, or he is gay.” You will find out in less than 5 minutes which one that is, in a very real way.
Three minutes is all he makes it before he puts you on your back, pulls your panties aside, and treats you to the first of several orgasms as you lose your fucking mind at what he can do with his tongue and lips on your clit.
Kicking and arching your back as you cum, you scream your high pitch unmistakeable and unique scream, and that is when he pushes his face into you deeper, tightens his grip, and drives a Mack truck of ambition right through your orgasm.
Again and again and again this happens.
Then two hands and two legs fixed to the bed and you break your desire to say “No.” He just scooped up your ability to decline anything he wants and stuffed your willpower in his pocket.
Bound now, you have a blindfold over your eyes and then the music kicks in to block out the noises, both to keep the neighbors away and to keep you guessing as to his whereabouts.
Meanwhile, lube is being applied to a Hitachi.
Two fingers go inside you and you rest easy thinking “I have been fingered before. No big deal.” In about 10 seconds you realize real quick that you have never been fingered like this, with your tight little black pussy being worked until you are just about to cum.
Then he stops.
A hand, right over your torso, to hold you down.
A noise, that sounds like an iPhone on a counter, but much much louder, starts humming.
Immediately you know what it is. A wand, on a lower level, pressed right on your lips and clit, and you jump like a scared cat, but you can’t go anywhere, so you scream.
Your noises are getting a bit worrisome, and a ball gag lands on your chest as a reminder that you better pipe down or else he will keep you quite his own way.
You fear the ball gag, so you pipe down, the best you can.
A 10 mode Hitachi now on 7 and you are squirting everywhere. Then 8.
Then right past 9 and to 10, and hard cock goes right inside your wet hole and you feel him pound your cervix and you are completely lost in subspace.
Your orgasms from the Hitachi hit you so fast that you lost count somewhere around 8 or 9 or 10, but the last one you will remember for the rest of your life.
This one comes with hard dick inside you, that is triggered from the warm salty cum filling your pussy, and your little creampie lust is fulfilled.
Hitachi now next to you and an iPhone in camera mode in his hand.
You here your phone text message beep sound and you already know you have a video of your swollen wet pussy dripping his cum from you.
Ice, in a bucket next to the bed is run along your overly-stimulated pussy and you finally see light again as he pulls the blindfold off, places a cum laced ice cube in your mouth, and you just giggle because you don’t know what the fuck to say.
Also published on Medium.