Dragonslut's Blog

Tales of a Hyper-sexual Spy

Bad Girls

Even though I’d dropped a blue pill, nothing was happening for me as I waited for her in the lounge. I started to worry. Would I ever be able to get it up again? Then suddenly I stopped my train of thought, it’s all about thought, mastering your thoughts. Though it looked like I was lounging across the sofa, I began meditating, relaxing, mastering my thoughts. The entire infinite cosmos is made of thoughts, nothing more. What happened next had little to do with romance.

Bethany was good at being bad…you could tell she wanted me cured straight away…she wasn’t pulling any punches…it was quite a display…it was, perhaps, the most erotic experience of my life…what was yours? Is it hard to breathe when you think of it? Was it pure filth? Is it still a secret? Did you let your bad side out? Did you just bite your lip, reader? Did you just sigh? Come on…what happened to you?

Bethany came inside the lounge wearing black heels, black knickers, black suspenders and a black corset. Her waist tucked in…her cleavage pushed up and together. Her long raven hair drifted like nectar over her shoulder…she pouted and sighed theatrically. Her deep brown eyes smiled inside, she was feeling playful and she was looking sensational. She carried a whip, a cat o’ nine tails.

“Do you like pussy Jack?” she purred.


“Pussy, come in here!” she snapped.

Her whip cracked and in came a half naked Indian girl, skin like caramel, her hair in black curls. She wore a fluffy black cat’s tail and a fluffy black cat’s ears. She had used make up to give herself a black cat’s nose and whiskers. She was slender and pretty. I wouldn’t meet Almera for years to come, but she looked like Almera.

“This is Pussy…Pussy is a very bad girl,” said Bethany

“I’m really naughty…” said Pussy. ‘Look, I don’t even know you and you can see my breasts,’ she said as she put her finger in her mouth.

“Uhuh…” I said acting cool, but feeling like a volcano about to explode. It had been more than two years since two girls had been in my bed. Then I’d been high as a kite, high as a satellite. I didn’t really remember. Now I felt I’d died and gone to man heaven.

“Pussy…get down on the ground and pleasure him now…” snapped Beth. Pussy dropped to all fours and crawled towards me like a cat.

“Christ…” I thought, “where did Bethany find a girl like that?” I played it as cool as I could. Bethany whipped her bum.

“Faster…” Beth said.

“Sorry Mistress…,”Pussy ran her hands up my thighs. There was something moving now alright…she unbuttoned my flies and pulled me out: “In my mouth Mistress?”

“In your mouth…,’ said Bethany, ‘get him hard…”

I looked at her and wondered why? She saw the question in my eye.

“You wanted me and that blonde together all those years ago…this is the best I could do. Don’t take it serious… it might help you…you might come…”

She whipped Pussy again…

“Faster…” she said getting back into character. “Get all of him in your mouth.”

Pussy…her tongue on my skin…a thousand fantasies…deviant thoughts started creeping in…Bethany watching…it felt good being naughty…I was hard for the first time in months…her mouth wet…Bethany whipping her…caramel skin…white skin…

Soon Beth joined in as they took it in turns to lick and suck…did you ever have a three way reader? Or do you just touch yourself about it? Don’t worry we all touch ourselves…

It was hard to know where to look…Pussy put a rubber on me while Beth purred and sucked…the relief of being hard set months of passion free inside of me…Bethany set months of passion free inside of me…I loved her…so I pulled her friends lingerie down and fucked her hard from behind…part of her must have wanted to see it…

“That’s it Jack give it to her…give it to that dirty bitch…” Beth took her heels off and watched…she lit a cigarette…I wondered if it was because she was jealous and wanted to stay calm…

“You’re not as strong as you were Jack…give it to her properly…” she said when she caught me watching her, watching me. “I want her dripping wet.”

“Yes give it to me properly…” said Pussy.

“Shut up Pussy…you don’t talk…” Bethany loved being bossy. She smoked her cigarette and began to touch herself and you know how it feels to touch yourself…don’t you reader?

It was getting hot under the collar…molten like iron in the forge…Bethany stubbed her cigarette out on the girls hand…Pussy shuddered and cried in pain.

“Jesus Beth!” I said.

“I like it…I need to be punished…” said Pussy quivering beneath me. It looked like she had come.

“Lord have mercy…” I mumbled under my breath, this girl was a beautiful deviant.

“Move over Jack…I want her to eat me…she does it better than you…now put that cock in my mouth I want to taste her on you…” It was rare to see Beth so badly behaved.

What Bethany said, we did, there was a kink to it. But I wanted to switch. I wasn’t as submissive as this strange woman she’d brought home. I was back, I felt like a King about to reclaim a lost throne. For a few moments she moaned as I let her have her way.

Then I kissed her…with all the passion…of all the years we’d thrown away…

“Hi Jack…” she said…breaking character and taking her out of her stride…her eyes were wide…like she’d gone to a different place…

“Hi Beth…”

“Pussy go home…” she snapped.

“Yes Mistress…” she said as she left.

“Christ I missed you Jack…” a tear in her eye.

“I missed you too…”

We fucked all night long…on every piece of furniture…in every room… sweating …swearing…biting…slapping…laughing…all night long…sweeping her desk clear…smashing her lamp on the floor…her tied to a chair, blindfolded…her riding my cock like a nymph…both of us sore…carpet burns from the floor…deep inside her…water dripping off her in the shower…we broke a tile…she sucked the blood off my finger…it meant something…hour after hour…we were possessed…until eventually we collapsed…looking deep inside each other…for a moment obsessed…

More tomorrow xx

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6 comments on “Bad Girls

  1. Harley
    December 26, 2014


    Liked by 1 person

  2. matildathemoonraker
    December 26, 2014


    Liked by 1 person

  3. dougstuber
    December 29, 2014


    Specks of cherry blossoms remain, six months after, crunched
    to microscopic, yet able to detect the soft November feet of
    knee-booted beauties. Washington’s engorged monument is
    Korean, six inches, but proud, laying-in to boot-skirt on the mall.
    Blushing blossoms accept the thumping as better than souls,
    more aesthetic than the spiked dens that welcome the kinky
    Dupont Circle crowd, you know, congressmen on the town with
    their page boys. We’re now “all -in,” bushwhacked into this
    winner-take-all culture with few winners, proud sinners, all-meat
    dinners. Unshaved Hispanics growl when the dealer hits two
    black jacks in a row. Cactus stand, not waving in the wind that
    tumbles weeds over mountains, that then ignite to torch homes
    of the “richies” who once had it made. Malibu, New Orleans,
    Florida in general: is there a pattern here? Gaia, perhaps our
    only god, has good aim, giving the haves ample opportunity to
    atone: few do. Perpetual human error peaks again now, as
    Christians preach morality, their U.S. leader tortures, slaughters,
    greedily spilling blood for oil, trading tomorrow for carbon-filled
    today, while children and nincompoops watch, jaws agape, because
    they didn’t see it coming. By nineteen-eighty-three it was evident,
    but still, twenty years into the fall, the one-two combo of religious
    propaganda and twisted “news” helped smooth over electoral fraud
    in time to put the slow crank on World War Three. Skip forward
    to November, back-peddle to the leaf pile, where larger color
    combinations lure Alexis and her playmate into unbridled bare-
    backed adventures. Cool air slows his sweat, but not before a drop
    jumps his nose. She thrusts to lick it out of the air, which is just
    the angle adjustment he needs to finish the act. Show this to the
    wonks, well-walled on cubicle row sixty-seven, and BASHA! your
    job is over. It’s that easy to escape the grind, but near impossible
    to be your own cowboy and feed the kids. This is when corporate
    can be your friend: just throw out all convictions, trade values
    for value-added do-dads that increase profits and productivity
    simultaneously and do not stress the details. No one minds if you
    are loading atomic weapons, making attack ads, fucking your
    “niece,” as long as the leaves rustle gently, lips quiver repeatedly,
    and voyeur neighbors get a hot glance, on an Indian Summers’ eve.

    Copyright, Doug Stuber, 2010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

    Liked by 1 person

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This entry was posted on December 25, 2014 by in desire, erotica, love, romance, sex and tagged , , , , , , , , , , .
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