The Human Body Is Full Of Cock

A few days after these events (you can read Parts 1 and 2 of this account here and here), we went to a dress-up party. It's a lovely venue, very much like a portal to a long-forgotten world, with its dusky lights and old building smells, feathered masks and glittery dancers.

I was PMS-ing and I was in a bit of a funny mood. See, the last time I've been to that venue, Albert and I had just started dating and we were still very much in love. That might have been the only time when we went out together to the city and ended up having fun. This was before his wondering eye became so painful for me to witness, before we started arguing all the time. I got caught thinking about the transience of love, how I loved Albert, no matter how briefly or how foolishly, how I loved Chris, how Albert was so into me back then. It only lasted for about three months before we were confronted with his demons.

John and I know each other for a year, but we've only been together for two months. What if we're just one month away from falling out of love with each other? Silly, I know. When we sat down, I tried to tell him what was on my mind. He was patient with me. ‘But I'm not Albert', was his response, and he's so fucking right, we're so much better suited to each other.

What I didn't tell him was that I was still thinking about a line from a play that we saw. What if, when you love someone, that is the only time when you truly see them for who they are, and not the other way around? People say that we fall in love with an idea, an illusion, and we only get to see people again for who they are when we break up. What if the guys I fell in love with, Chris and Albert, were really as wonderful as I thought they were in our honeymooning period, but, as I lost them, the thought of their wonderfulness is too much to bear, so I embrace the idea of my love for them as an illusion? When we broke up, or, more precisely, when I stopped loving them, I lost access to their well of wonderfulness, forever. That made me sad.

But then we started dancing again and the music was dancing through us. We didn't kiss or make out because my bright red lipstick left smudges around his mouth. We smiled at each other and basked in the gaze of other revellers. He brushed the hair off my face and everything was fine again.

I held his hand on our way back home and I leaned on his shoulder just so. Finding our way back home is always an adventure, because we're both terrible with directions, but this time we worked together beautifully. We were pleased.

We got home in the little hours. We sat on the bed and looked at ourselves in my large antique mirror, red, black and feathered. I took off my hat and my earrings, looking at his reflection. We kissed. We lingered for a second before our lips touched, breathing each other's breath. I unbuttoned his shirt very slowly and licked his left nipple. And then the right one. He was deliciously salty. Lower down, on his hip bones, I traced long lines with my tongue, making my way down to his crotch.

I went down on him very slowly, licking his shaft, twisting my hands up and down. There was nothing else in the world but his spit-covered cock, gagging me. I could hear he was close to orgasm. ‘More, please', he whispered. I shifted so he could finger me. His fingers sent circles of warmth and pleasure through my body, from my clit to my head.

I sat on his face with his cock deep in my throat, folded over his body, but, instead of licking my pussy, he went straight for my asshole, moaning, getting even more aroused. He put a finger up my bum with his face buried in my pussy. I was slow to realise that he wanted me to do the same so I spit on my finger and pushed it in. I usually wear gloves, so it felt much more intimate like that, flesh on hot flesh. It was moist and tender. It welcomed me in. He loved it. My face was full of spit and snot from deepthroating. We stopped for a second to breathe and kiss and he asked me if I had a buttplug or something. I had a buttplug or something and I pushed it slowly up his ass. John had his eyes closed, facing me, focused on his sensations. I put my thigh between his buttocks and pushed the buttplug further in, kissing him. He started breathing heavier, and pushed his butt against my thigh, moaning like a girl. He moved to all fours, with his butt in the air. I pushed the buttplug in rhythmically and then it was clear what was going to happen next. I fumbled a bit to put on the red rider and tighthly strapped it round my thighs and my waist. The red seven inches of rubber rested on my pubic bone, putting pressure on my clit. John lay on his back, looking me in the eyes. He was mine. I pressed forward and caressed his face as I went in. Moments later, he wrapped his legs around me and I fucked him like a girl. He turned around and I put my cock inside him again from behind. It felt so natural to fuck him, to move the way I would like to be fucked, to wave my hips forward and wait for him to react. A few minutes later, he begged me to stop. ‘I am blissed out', he said. ‘If you want to, we can just go to sleep'. We rested a bit. ‘No, I want to fuck you first', he said, feeling my dripping wet pussy. He climbed on top of me. ‘Are you wet enough?', he joked. ‘Oh, listen to the sound your pussy is making'. The slapping sound was embarrassingly loud. ‘You like it?' ‘Yeah'. ‘Harder?' ‘Yes, harder. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me harder… Oh shit, oh shit, I'm coming', he whispered and turned his face away in agony. He then came and came and came inside me. We fell asleep naked, embraced, his semen trickling down my thigh.

The moment he woke up next morning, he kissed me. ‘I love you. Last night was amazing. You know I wanted this for a long time'. And then, smiling coyly, ‘How do you feel about you making me your bitch?' ‘Good! It was really hot!' ‘It was, wasn't it, he said', stroking his cock.

He fucked me hard, looking me in the eyes as if he wanted to snatch my soul. He came inside me. We were resting, hugging. He told me he kept thinking about my asshole. He'd been thinking about it all our way home and he asked me when he was going to fuck me in there next. I said, ‘right now, if you want to'.

He wetted a finger and slipped it in. Moved it around a bit. I was still aroused from earlier.

He then put his cock inside my pussy, dipped it in our juices, and slid it up my ass. I asked him to stop at times and I fingered myself while he was in me, sliding wet fingers inside me to feel the thickness of his cock. I lay on top of him, facing the ceiling, and asked him to finger me. He pushed his thumb inside my pussy and finger-fucked me thoroughly while his cock stayed still up my ass. We switched positions a few times. I took it all in and I loved it. 'Harder, harder', I said and moved back towards him and then he came. I didn't come this time, but I enjoyed the way my body opened up to him, the ways we wrapped around each other, the eye-fucking, the intensity of it all.

‘We should have filmed it', he joked, ‘first time anal adventures for you and me'. ‘Yes, we should have. We'd make good porn'.

***

I'm still entertaining the idea of becoming a professional dominatrix and I need some new pictures for my site. I asked John if he would like to be in some pictures together, with him subbing. He said ok, but that he wanted to go to the gym first. Silly John, he has a beautiful body, but I said yes, of course. ‘Unless…', he said, ‘unless I can find someone else to pose with you. Perhaps I can persuade my friend K.'. ‘But is he as good looking as you?' ‘He is. He's black.' ‘I bet you'd look good together…', I said. He continued: 'Ivory and ebony. You can play us both like a kinky piano'. ‘What a lovely thought!', I exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically. ‘You're crazy, Alice!', he shook his head at me.

I was going out and he walked me to the train station and then he stayed on the train with me for a few stops longer, just because it was hard to say goodbye. Our bodies were still pulled together by invisible forces and it felt painful to move apart.

A few hours later, I got back home and I called him to wish him goodnight. ‘How is your ass?', I asked. ‘Oh, it hurts a lot…', he joked, making me worry for a second. ‘It's fine. How is yours?' ‘It's perfect!', I replied. I added, thoughtfully: ‘The human body is full of wonders'. He laughed: ‘The human body is full of cock.'

Read more hot stories at Fleshbot Fiction. This story republished with permission from Alice's Secret Sex Diary. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Enjoy more sensual rubdowns at Massage Parlor.