You Know Your Name

“We should go, babe,” I mumble heading to the bar’s door. Tonight’s date and I have known each other for over ten years. He is the only one I have ever referred to by his given name instead of some humorous term. We love and hate each other equally which often leads to the best sex followed by the worse arguments.

His kiss, his sweet, warm, wet, soft yet firm, and overwhelmingly sensual kiss is the epitome of my fantasy kiss. I can only describe it as an explosion of passion that wakes your core. Instant wetness. It helps that this kiss is associated to his thick, big cock. Easily in my top three cocks of all time.

Fury and passion creates the perfect combination of ecstasy that I long for, “You have to fuck me.”

“Baby, that ain’t goin’ be a problem,” he responds as he eyes me up and down.

“I mean like right now you need to fuck me.”

“Get in the fuckin’ car.” That’s what I like about him. It doesn’t take much. He likes the rough side of me, the stripper chic, sporting an ass, an attitude, and a lot of fun stories. We drive to the far end of the parking lot where cars began to disperse. “Get in the back and take off everything but your stockings.” His fetishes include lingerie in nylon, silk, satin, tight, shiny, or see through, secretaries, and most of all stockings. His fixations on textures is what made him a great lover. He touches your entire body with his hands, lips, and cock.

I throw my clothes into the passenger seat to save them from being stepped, sweated, or jizzed on. His shoes and shirt are off as the car halts into park. Climbing into the backseat he grabs my ankles and pulls so that I am on my back with my legs flanking him. Dispute his height he has the perfect body type for me; muscular, tan, sparse body hair, tattoos, and that big, beautiful cock of his. The type of cock that makes you forgive a man for more than you should.

His warm hands drag up the outside of my thighs grazing the grey treads of nylon. He pauses as his fingers reach over the waistband and onto my skin feeling the difference in coarseness. He trails kisses from between my breasts, by way of neck to my cheek, chin and finally lips. Explosion kiss.

I can feel the head of his cock brush back and forth against the crotch of the stockings. Like a caged tiger my pussy is growling to be set free. This is all the foreplay I could handle. “Quit fuckin’ around and fuck me,” I execute with desperate authority. He bites his lip with a half-smile and I feel his mushroom tip push into me with the stocking.

“I like that you’re not wearin’ any panties.”

“I’ve known you long enough not to make that mistake again.”

He reaches behind him and pulls out a butterfly knife. “We’ve known each other a long time,” dragging the tip of the blade up and down the inside of my thighs, cutting dozens of nylon strands into tears. The coolness of the metal blade is what gets me going, cold steel on warm skin with the added danger of a weapon. Goosebumps. “I fuckin’ love you.”

“I fucking love you.” One more cut in my tights and his cock is inside my aching pussy like a barrel plunging into Niagara Falls. “Fuck me hard. Harder!”

He does as he’s instructed and then stops. “I can’t do this in here. Get out.” Slightly annoyed I open the door and step out into the crisp, misty night. He pushes me to and onto the trunk of the car, spreading my legs and continuing with the same vigor as in the car. The metal is cold, wet with dew and slippery, making me unable to grasp onto anything but his hands that clasp into my hips. I’m in my element. I’m in his control.

I raise my hand in the heat of the moment and slap him across the face causing him to pull out and cum on the license plate. “Fuuucckkkk, babe!”

Sliding off the car, “You can make me cum when we get back to your place. That should give you enough time to… reload. I know you’re not as young as you use to be.”

He stands before me, cock in hand, with a death stare, “Get in the fuckin’ car. You’re a fuckin’ nut case.”

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