Paige Voxx

Filthy Fun: Part 2

September 10, 2018 By Paige Voxx 4 Comments

For Part 1 Click Here

Your cock is nearly twitching now. The color is deepening. You’ve reached your hands down to grab my hair. With a “Fuck, I’m too close,” you pull me off. Part of me hopes that as you rip my mouth off of you my last suck will cause an eruption; maybe I can catch a feel of your pearlous beads on my pretty, freckled face. But, the other part of me needs to feel that hot load poured into a different hole.

I’m wiping the drool off of my chin when you’re suddenly on your knees in front of me.

“That was beautiful,” you say, reaching down and giving yourself a single stroke.

Fuck. YOU are beautiful Stranger Danger. Please don’t stop touching yourself.

I’m mesmerized. Your cock is hypnotizing.

You don’t want to be selfish, and after just a few more flicks of your wrist, you drop your hand to your side, look me up and down, and then command me to turn around and get down on all fours.

The authority in your voice startles me, but my body obeys. I’ve never been given orders like this. I feel slightly embarrassed as I remember my surroundings. However, before I can overthink anything, your hands are on my hips, and you’re pulling me back towards you. You bend over me, reach around to my front, and begin unzipping my shorts. You command me to raise my right leg, and then my left. You toss my shorts to the side to rest in a heap near my shirt.

You’ve left my panties on, and I’m not sure why. “Mmmm,” you moan, bending over and whispering your groans into my ear. Your cock is rubbing me through my soaking wet, black, laced undies. It’s a tease. A literal cock tease. You haven’t touched me there yet and I am aching for it. The anticipation is growing as I buck back into you, my fingers and toes curling at the craving. I can’t take it anymore.

“God, just fuck me,” I beg.

Please. Just rip my underwear off and fucking slam into me. Please!

Because you know just how bad I want it, you draw it out just a few moments longer. Before you stop your playful teasing, you lower your mouth to the top of my spine, bite between my shoulders, and peel off the only thing left between us and ecstasy.

My ass is in the air and I can’t hold still; I wiggle back and forth inviting you. I’m so ready for you to fill me that my pussy seems to be blossoming like a flower- its scent filling the room like roses in springtime.

Just as I’m about to beg again or maybe even offer up my soul, you’re there.

Your hands are firmly on my ass cheeks, holding tight, and in one swift movement you plunge deep inside of me.

Yes!

Your cock , feels, so, good.

That spot that has been aching inside of me for so long is finally being soothed. Your length is perfect. Your width is perfect. You fit perfect.

People were meant to do this. This is what it is to be human.

I throw my head back with pleasure. You see this as an opportunity and you take it. One of your hands lifts from my ass, leaving a red mark from where you were gripping my padded flesh, and comes around to the front of my throat. You knows how badly I like to be held in a gentle choke hold.. How badly I want to be claimed. The feel of you having complete control over me, yet doing everything to please me, is causing me to gush all over the disgusting floor we’re fornicating on. I’ve never been so dirty in all my life.

The sounds coming from my throat can only be described as animalistic. Every time you slam into me from behind, your balls slap up against my cunt, and the sound of our rhythm has me alternating between biting my lip and gasping for air.

Still cradling my throat in your strong callused hand, you lean just a little bit closer to my ear and utter, “You’re being such a good girl.”

I can’t handle much more. Those words are all I needed to hear.

You release my throat, take your other hand off my ass, and lean down again so you can reach around to my front to grope my neglected breasts. You knead and squeeze them, pull down the bra cups, and free them. My nipples are rolling between your pinching fingers. This sends incredible waves of pleasure directly down to my clit, which is swollen and throbbing with desire.

I’m a good girl. I’m a very fucking good girl.

You’re pounding into me faster. You’re thrusting harder. Your greedy hands move from my breasts back to my hips, and I can sense that we’re nearing the end. So, I give it everything. I meet every foreword movement of your hips with a rough push backwards, slamming you so deep inside of me that I feel I might break.

Please, break me.

Your sounds become louder; your grip on my skin becomes tighter.

You’re about to come.

There’s a tingling in my lips and it’s slowly traveling down my entire body. I’m so close. God, I’m so close. Don’t you dare stop.

Then you shift your weight forward, gently sink your teeth into my neck as your cock starts to convulse, and you unload the last several months of our built up sexual tension inside of me.

Oh. My. God.

The feeling of your mouth holding me in place as you find your release is so primal, so sexy, that I join you in finding mine.

My entire body begins to shake, my eyes roll back into my head, and with your teeth still grazing my skin, I arch my back into you one last time before collapsing onto the hard, cold ground; at this point, I’m nothing but a heap of sweaty, shaking mass.

My brain has stopped working; I am completely numb. Yet, I feel so much. I feel you throughout my entire body. I feel high. I am high. I’m fuck high.

Sounds start coming back- the sound of our combined panting, the bustle from beyond our sex cave walls, and the toilet from the next door bathroom flushing.

Shit. That’s right. We’re in a bathroom.

You’re standing up now, pulling your pants back on; I’m not sure I have the strength to move. You’re smiling. Not saying anything, just, smiling. As I glance at you from over my bare shoulder, it causes me to smile. We both begin to laugh.

You kick my panties to me, but they’re too soaked to put back on. I shake my head no and ask, “Souvenir?” A short pause stifles the mood, and then we’re laughing again.

I quickly dress, splash some water on my face, take a deep breath, hold my head high, and turn and open the door. Thank God there isn’t anybody outside waiting. Did anybody hear us? Does anybody know? I half expected to see a line around the corner. I thought maybe I’d be doing a walk of shame. But this will be more like a walk of win.

You’re washing your hands now with that grin still on your face. I wonder if you were grinning like that the whole time.

Without another word, I smile, bite my lip, and leave.

About the Author

Paige is a 34 year old dreadlock mama, currently living in Virginia, exploring her deepest desires to be primally dominated. She has spent the last 12 years as a housewife, but has quietly fantasized long enough, and is now beginning her kinky journey to self realization and true pleasure. Paige writes erotica based off of a combination of personal fantasy and experience.

Fetlife: TangerineSpeedo

Filthy Fun: Part 1

September 3, 2018 By Paige Voxx 3 Comments

Photo by slave boy julia (sjstudio1.com)

I woke up thinking about cock again. About what it would be like to give in to my temptation. To meet you at a public place, excuse myself to the bathroom with a wink and a smirk, and then to stand in there, waiting for you to follow. I wondered what it would be like to be terrified that you might not come in after me. What it would be like to brace myself on the cold, gritty sink, avoiding my own eye contact in the mirror, because what the fuck am I doing?

But I did it. I’m here. I’m standing in the hollow bathroom of this dive restaurant, and I’m waiting for you.

Just as I’m about to change my mind and flee the scene of my possible rejection, the door opens behind me. You’re here. You followed. We’re doing this.

But I can’t look up. I’m not ashamed of myself for wanting it so badly, but this is definitely a very naughty thing to be doing-meeting someone off the internet for a fling in a filthy place.

My eyes are still looking down. My hands are firmly gripping the sides of the water-stained sink, and I’m unknowingly swaying my hips. My whole body has been craving this for weeks.

I hear the door lock.

I close my eyes.

I inhale deeply.

I hear your movement. The sound of your boots on the tile. The masculinity of your breath as you come closer and closer.

Please be gentle with me.

Please be rough.

And then I feel you. I feel your body heat brushing up behind me, and I instinctively push my ass back to greet you- looking for that hard cock that you promised me every day and night since we began messaging each other.

Ah, there it is. A rush of tingles encircle me.

Your hands are roaming. Even though it feels warm and right and so, so sexy, I still can’t open my eyes to face my outrageous behavior reflecting in the mirror.

Your hand grazes my breast, and travels north, to gently clasp around the front of my neck. You pull my head back ever so slightly, and there it is, teeth and tongue on my flesh. You’ve found my sweet spot.

My arm reaches back to grip a handful of your thick, brown locks to urge you on. You’re doing everything just the way I imagined you would. Just the way we discussed.

My eyes pop open; we lock eyes in the looking glass. The rush of heat between my legs causes me to weaken, and I stumble. Intense sensations like this aren’t often felt by ordinary housewives like me. Especially inside of downtown cafes. Especially during the middle of the day while my kids are at school.

I smile because God I want this. I’m silently begging you not to stop.

I open my mouth, but I can’t speak. Your hands are strong and they’re touching me everywhere- exploring my curves and leaving small nail prongs and pinch bruises. You start to murmur things from our previous conversations. Things that we typed to each other late at night.

I can feel the pressure of your bound cock inside of your pants. You’ve been lightly thrusting your hips against my backside, and I don’t think I can take the anticipation anymore.

In a blink, your hands are moving, spinning me around to face you. And before I can even process what’s happened, before I can reach for that swelling, pulsing bulge in your jeans, you’ve grabbed my arms and thrust them above my head, pinning me up against the wall.

Fuck.

I’m soaking wet and simultaneously so very thirsty.

You bring your face close to mine, still holding me in my place. You hover. My breath is ragged. You crack a smile, and murmur, “Mmmm, yes” as you begin to nibble at my jaw, inching your wanting breath towards my mouth.

You find my lips. You taste fantastic like a fancy dessert. Your mouth meets mine move for move, just a slight step ahead of me as you lead our dance. Your tongue is soft, and with every lash of it, rippling waves of lust are going straight to that throbbing place between my legs.

Now I can feel you from the front, and as the pressure is hitting me closer to where my body wants it, my hips are responding with an intensity that is almost begging.

You release my arms, and as you do, you trail your hands down over my breasts, swooping them under my shirt. Your fingertips and palms are grabbing at my bare waist, wrapping around my back, gripping me, skin to skin. You dig your nails slightly into my back as you take your mouth from mine, and begin tasting your way over my throat, down my neckline, and onto my chest. And then fast as lightning, like you must have practiced this, my shirt is over my head, and hitting the ground.

You move my bra strap to the side so it falls off of my shoulder seductively. You start tasting my upper arm. A gentle bite. Another.

My hands are frantically trying to get to your pants. If I don’t feel what’s underneath, I might scream. You’re rock hard and I need you.

You sense my struggle with the button on your pants and lend me a hand. I’m not as smooth as you are. Maybe because I’m nervous. Or maybe because I’m lust drunk with top-shelf desire.

I slowly pull on the zipper and yank the sides of your pants down. You’re protruding through the fabric of your underwear, and I hold my breath as I know you’re about to reveal yourself to me.

I reach my hand inside and find my grip. Your tip is wet and your thickness is throbbing. A smile sneaks from my mouth and I release a hungry giggle.

You must appreciate the feel of my palm because you’ve temporarily stopped moving your mouth on my skin and your breathing has become quite sporadic. If you like how I do that, just wait.

I push you away from me a step and drop to my knees. You moan gently as I get in position to please you. You must be wanting this is as much as I do.

I fully free your cock, and as it springs to life in front of me, I wet my lips with my tongue and whisper the word “Gimme.”

I look up at you looking down on me with those sharp, blue eyes that seem to communicate everything that I need to know without you needing to say a single word. You look like a God standing above me, commanding me to continue.

I nod a greedy yes and slowly bring my glossed lips to the head of your swollen dick.

You roll your head back with a loud groan that echoes off of the walls around us. It feels like magic, doesn’t it?

I can hear your breath quicken as I tighten my grip. This is long overdue. You’re thick and solid, and your smell is intoxicating. I taste the clear, salty drops that you’ve so graciously released for me as I kneel before you. I take you all the way in. Adding a little extra hum, I open my throat; I let you slide as far back as you can reach.

You like this. You like this a lot. You like me concentrating so hard on pleasing you- one hand cupping your balls, the other trailing just behind my mouth up and down your length, playing a little game of follow the leader. You’re spitting hushed grunts through your gritted teeth trying not to raise any attention to anyone who might be lurking outside.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m on my knees mouth fucking an older man that I barely know. I can’t believe a gorgeous man like you even agreed to meet me. I can’t believe I’m submitting to my carnal instinct.

All of those times that you had me gushing at snapshots of your naked body. All of those mornings that you had me longing for a filthy word from you to start the day. All of those times I used your naughty thoughts to tickle just the right place between my legs.

It’s all brought me here.

For Part 2 Click Here

About the Author

Fetlife: TangerineSpeedo

Package From Sir

August 6, 2018 By Paige Voxx 3 Comments

Garnet + Guard: Cuffs Ready [Photography by AV + Domina Mara]

The doorbell rang, just as I was sitting down on the couch to finally read my book. I had been looking forward to it all morning. I had stayed up late the night before, balancing my phone between my breasts and my chin, using the bright screen as a book light. I read anxiously for hours about who killed who. I finally gave up on solving the mystery when I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I love reading seductive murder mysteries- If they’re smutty enough.

Coffee in one hand, book in the other, I sighed at the miserable thought of having to put the book back down. At 2:00 in the afternoon, with all of the kids in school, nobody should be knocking on that door. This is my one hour a day before pickup that I set aside for myself. Everyone is supposed to leave me alone.

I set my still steaming coffee mug down on the window ledge behind me, and scooted to the edge of the couch. I paused slightly, angry with whoever was outside, before rising to my feet. “This had better not be that weird guy selling steaks again,” I thought out loud. The no soliciting sign that I painted at craft night last year was apparently invisible to everyone other than me.

I reluctantly walked to the front door. I took a deep readying breath to face whoever was about to ruin my one hour of peace, and then I braved it and turned the knob.

To my relief, there was nobody standing there. This had been a false alarm. I didn’t actually have to interact with another human. Thank goodness.

A plain brown package lay before me on the porch. Definately addressed to me, but unmarked otherwise. I hadn’t been expecting anything that I could remember.

I picked up the package, and carried it to the kitchen. It felt kind of light and airy. I set it down on the counter, grabbed the scissors from the knife block, and opened it like a kid opening a birthday present- excited and greedy. I’ve always loved getting mail.

Part of me expected to see a forgotten order of vitamins, or maybe new windshield wiper blades for the van- the usual boring stuff. However, this was not that kind of package. I feasted my eyes on a thin layer of matte black tissue paper, suddenly transforming this box into a mysterious gift. Not ready to ruin the surprise just yet, I ran my hand back and forth over the soft paper, wondering what I might find on the other side.

Upon pulling back the first fold of tissue, I could see a hint of what looked like a red velvet pouch beneath. After pulling back the second fold, more velvet pouches of various sizes. Each of them placed neatly in a nest of black crinkled paper. This mystery box was most certainly going to be better than my book.

Standing over such a beautiful arrangement of textures and colors began to feel a bit intimate. The combination of red and black reminded me of being naughty, and the velvet pouches reminded me of fancy things like champagne and lipstick. I picked up the first pouch, released the drawstring, and reached inside.

“Oh my,” I whispered to myself. No wonder this box had given me a slight tingle between the legs. Resting in the palm of my hand now was a gorgeous set of silver nipple clamps. I had never actually held a pair of the real things- I had only used the clothespins from my laundry room. So, standing there doing so now, an hour before the kids were to be let out of school, felt a bit forbidden, which made me enjoy it that much more.

I explored the clamps with my fingertips first. Then, lifted one of them up to my lips, and ran it side to side across my smooth pout. Yes, I would like these very much.

I returned my new beautiful silver play things back to their delicate pouch, set the pouch down in the box, and then reached for another surprise. The anticipation of what was to come was causing me to bite my lip and bounce on my toes.

Picking up speed now, as the tension was beginning to build, I unveiled the next treasure from the chest. Reaching my hand into the bag, I felt a handful of what felt like thin leather strips. A big grin came over my face. Whoever sent this to me knew what made me wet. They had an understanding of my cravings, and wanted to see to it that I quenched my thirst.

A beautiful black flogger was now in my procession. This isn’t something that I would have ever wanted to use on someone else, but rather, something that I had been begging to be used on me. In that moment, I felt goosebumps rise on my skin, thinking about the tassels slapping down against my bare ass, and traveling up my back, to my neck, back down, and ending with another slap. And then another. And another.

I let out a gentle “mmmmm” sound as I brought the flogger up to my face and inhaled. This was lovely. This was going to be great fun.

I couldn’t imagine what could possibly be in the remaining 3 bags, but as my greediness picked up speed, so did the pulse in my clit. With the feel of the flogger still fresh on my mind, I continued.

The next bag was slightly larger than the last, and had more bulk. I wasted no time ripping the contents away from the velvet sack.

“…Oh yes, please,” I demanded. If only the giver of such treats were here to see my body’s reaction. I loosened the buckle of one of the black padded cuffs, slipped my hand through the opening, and then pulled it snuggly to my wrist. I closed my eyes, and let myself fantasize about being naked, locked up, and writhing with the need to be taken. I could almost smell the sex in the air, and feel the heat of someone’s breath on my neck as I fought against the restraint that prevented me from grabbing what I wanted, and bringing it to where I so desperately needed to be felt.

Blinking myself out of my lusty haze, with the cuff still on, I picked up another bag. Through the velvet, I could immediately feel what it was. Long, but not too long. Thick. Heavier than the last items. …please God, let this be a cock.

The idea of a hard, throbbing cock in front of me sprang to mind, and the words “be a good girl and kneel” rang through my ears. And then out of the red colored sachel came a gift that I knew would be put to extremely good use.

Holding the lifelike dick in my hand, I dropped to my knees. Remembering how good it was to lick the salty tang of a man who was ready for you. I brought the dildo up to my face, held it directly in front of me, and began running my closed lips up and down the shaft.

I loved to suck. I loved to tease with my tongue. I loved to take it all the way in, hold it, and release it only when I was desperate for breath. I loved gasping while saliva poured from my mouth. I loved looking up at him and seeing the look of pure pleasure on his face. I loved making him proud.

This wasn’t the real thing, but in my mind it could have been. This wasn’t like my other toys. This didn’t take batteries or vibrate. This was a solid piece of artificial flesh, covered in realistic veins. As I held it there in front of me on my kitchen floor, I felt the flower between my legs begin to bloom. I was wet, and wanting.

Without getting up off of the ground, I reached up into the box for the last bag. I wasn’t sure there was anything left to get- I was so seduced by the things already given.

…until I unwrapped a pair of black lace vibrating panties.

He knew me so well. He knew all of the things that I wanted. Both in bed, and in the box.

I took a deep breath in as I questioned what I should do next. How could I possibly say no to self pleasure with all of these beautiful tools layed out for my enjoyment?? I still had time before I had to leave the house. I had time to fulfill my aching needs and desires.

I stripped off my t-shirt first, and tossed it onto the ground. I slid my hands into the cups of my bra, and popped out each breast like an erection coming out of a pair of tight pants. I located my new nipple clamps, and without any hesitation, attached them to my willing pink nubs.

The feeling that came with the intense pressure nearly knocked me off of my knees. I moaned and crashed my hands and forearms up against the cabinet. My ass started to wiggle immediately, and all rational thoughts were replaced with animalistic instinct.

I needed a cock inside of me.

Moving my ass from side to side, like a puppy wagging her tail with excitement, I forced myself to focus. I reached down, and began to slide my way out of my sweatpants and underwear. Trying to be graceful, but behaving more like a wild creature, I fumbled with the vibrating panties, until I had gotten both legs through, and pulled them up over my aching pussy and ass. The weight of the nipple clamps were pulling me into an ass up position, lowering my swollen breasts more and more. If only I had a man standing behind me with a fistful of my hair.

I quickly found the remote and flipped the switch. The waves of electricity combined with the constant tugging on my tits now had me gasping and thrusting. All I needed now was something to suck on.

I had never sucked on a fake cock, and I knew it wouldn’t be as pleasurable as the real thing, but in that moment, I would have sucked on nearly anything. So, there I was, bent over on my kitchen floor, attaching a dildo with a suction cup to the same cabinet that hid my cutting boards.

At first, I felt a little embarrassed- the idea of putting my mouth all over this silicone toy seemed ridiculous. But my shame was short lived as the rumbling between my legs could no longer be ignored. I opened my mouth, leaned forward, and licked.

With a mouthful of cock, I let myself release all of the noises that I had been holding back. Muffled moans, interrupted only by the thick barrier of flesh in my throat. My pussy grinded against my vibrating panties as I sucked, and I felt the waves of intense pleasure gradually building.

I started moving my hips faster, sucking harder, and groaning louder- imagining a man before me and a man behind. One man looking down at me, brushing his hand along the side of my face, whispering “atta girl,” as he thrust himself deeper and deeper into my mouth. One man kneeling around my backside, a hand on my ass and a hand at the base of my neck, grunting with every backwards buck that I made against him.

The idea of being with two men at once made me wild. The sucking sounds of my mouth on the cabinet cock turned me on even more. Oh, how I loved the sounds of pleasure. The slurps and slaps had always been so sexy. I wanted to hear a man enjoying my pussy. I wanted to hear his balls slapping against my cunt. I wanted to hear our vigorous efforts of pounding each other. I loved it all.

My thoughts shifted, and it was no longer a faceless man standing in front of me, petting the side of my face as I fucked him with my mouth. Now, it was the man who sent me this package.

Picturing his approving face and devilish grin sent an extra sharp push straight to my clit. With a few more moves of my hips, I was choking on the imaginary load in my mouth, and clawing at the floor beneath me. Screaming and trembling uncontrollably as I found my extended release.

With no breath left in my lungs and no thoughts left in my mind, I hovered there on the floor for several minutes, hips slowing their circles, mouth releasing its grip.

If only he could have seen what a good girl I had been. If only he knew how hard he had made me cum.

As my heart rate started to steady, and the squeezing between my legs came to an end, I pushed myself up off of the ground, body rejecting the movement, my wrists screaming in stiff pain from holding myself up so furiously.

Turns out this had been much better than an afternoon with my book. And oh, how I would have to find the perfect way to repay my Sir.

About the Author

Fetlife: TangerineSpeedo

Lets Grab Coffee: Part 2

June 4, 2018 By Paige Voxx 3 Comments

www.voxart9.com

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and we are in no way advocates of any kind of abuse, non-consensual behavior, crossing any hard limits, putting any one in harm’s way (physically/mentally/emotionally/spiritually), or violating one’s boundaries/what was pre-negotiated.

With this being said, enjoy the story!

For Part 1 Click Here

Stomping my feet through the coffee shop like an angry child, I move through the crowd with my head down, hauling soaked ass to the exit. I don’t even want to know how many eyes are on me as I leave. I don’t want to know who saw it- I don’t want to know anything. I can never come back here as long as I live. Ever again.

You’re still holding onto my hand as I’m pulling you behind me. The same hand that just made me cum in a corner. While I want to be angry and throw a tantrum, I can’t stop thinking about the way your calluses felt when they rubbed me from the inside. God, that was incredible.

I finally break through the clunky door, leaving my humiliation in that stuffy room behind me. The fresh air is everything I hoped it to be. The light breeze cools my skin when it hits my sweat. I let go of your hand, turn away from you, close my eyes, and take in the biggest breath I can fit inside of my lungs.

What can I even say right now? I’ll never be able to order an iced drink EVER again without thinking about my under the table orgasm.

My entire body is tingling with the afterglow of your indecent touch.

Embarrassed as I am, I have to admit- it was pretty fucking hot. The way that you maintained eye contact with me the entire time. How you slipped your fingers inside of me when I least expected it. How you commanded me to hush, when all I wanted to do was scream profanities.

“Fuck yes! Don’t stop! Oh shit! I’m cumming!”

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more sexually exhilarated. This is definitely not something I do every day. I mean, it’s something that I’ve dreamed of doing. Not even that- I didn’t even know it was a thing that could happen until it happened. And now that it happened, how will a plain ol’ finger fuck on the couch while watching a movie EVER live up to this?

It won’t.

This was priceless.

So why am I acting like such a brat? Pulling you through the store and turning away from you? Letting my embarrassment overcome me? Oh shit-

I am being very, very bad right now.

You are going to punish me for storming out of the coffee shop like a little girl mad at Daddy for not buying her an ice cream cone.

I’ve never been in trouble with you before.

The thought chills me. My nipples stiffen.

I stand for a few moments more, grounding myself, building the courage to look you in the eyes again.

I command myself to turn back around to face you. I’m wearing a look of shame. I’m so sorry, Sir.

You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.

You look unphased by everything that’s just happened- my obnoxious, obvious orgasm, my less than smooth exit from the store, the fact that I nearly ripped your arm out of its socket when I made my escape.

You’re standing there with your arms crossed, drinking the last few sips of your americano. You’re a beautiful looking man. You’re completely unreadable when you want to be.

“I’m sorry I’m behaving so poorly, Sir,” I mumble while staring down at my feet.

“Ah ah ah,” you say with a wag of your sticky cum covered finger. “Be a good girl and look up at me”.

Shit. You ARE mad. I AM in trouble.

I take in another deep breath as I lock eyes with you. “I’m sorry, Sir”.

I brush a few droplets of sweat away from my temple, feeling insecure and not knowing how to hold myself.

You drop your arms and take a slow step towards me. Another, and now another. I can feel the heat of your breath and smell your musk. When you’re right in front of me, you cup my chin in your hand, keeping stern eye contact, and quietly ask “Did you not like it? Did it not feel good? Did you not shake with complete satisfaction? Because from where I was just sitting, in that room full of bankers and soccer moms, with my fingers deep up inside of you, you seemed to have enjoyed it very, very, much”.

I let out a small moan. Even your words fuck me the right way.

With my face still balancing in the palm of your hand, you lean forward, give me a gentle kiss on the forehead, and then step back, beginning to walk away. You toss your empty cup in the trash as you go.

No! Wait! Where are you going? Don’t go! Please don’t go!

“I’m sorry, Sir! Please! Let me thank you properly,” I shout after you.

You’re just stepping off of the curb, heading towards where I assume your car is parked, when you hear my plea, and stop dead in your tracks. You pause for a moment, and without turning to face me, you ask, “How will my naughty girl repay me?”

My eyes widen. You’ve never called me your naughty girl. I’m your GOOD girl. I do as I’m told.

I stare at the back of your messy head of hair and the plain black T-shirt covering your broad shoulders that I so terribly want to claw up, before I shout “Let me please you! Right now. Wherever- however you want!” I glance nervously around, hoping nobody else hears me.

You slowly pivot on your feet. There’s a hard edge to your eyes. You begin walking my way. “Wherever I want?” you ask.

The familiar rush of heat that you often project upon me tickles my cheeks and snaps at my clit. My lips part and I gasp, “Yes. Anywhere”.

I reach forward and rest my hand on your chest. “Let me thank you,” I add, following with a daring, light kiss directly to your mouth.

Your smirk returns as you release the kiss that I’d rather keep holding. Your hand reaches up and now rests on top of mine on your chest. Your eyes are filled with an emotion that I can’t quite pinpoint.

Fuck. You are such a dangerous man.

Holding my hand still, you smoothly begin to ease my palm down the front of your body. Inch by inch you let me feel you, until- I’m there.

You let out a deep breath that sounds more like an “mmm” than an exhale, as I make contact with what I’ve been craving for weeks. Maybe you’ve been craving this too.

See, naughty girls can be good.

You bring up your free hand, and carefully move my hair behind my shoulder. You lean your impeccable mouth down to my ear, graze my skin with your moistened lips, and whisper, “Take me around to the back of the store. Find the filthiest place you can- and kneel”.

My legs threaten to give out, and I feel a gush of pleasure start slipping from between my thighs. You are going to be the death of me. The hottest, fucking, death of me.

“Yes, Sir.” I obey, entranced by the lingering feel of your lips on me.

“Good girl,” you reassure me, with a nudge to let me know that you mean now.

Another gush of pleasure.

I’m not sure who is going to enjoy this more-you or me.

I lead the way around to the back of the brick building. Your hand is resting on my ass again. It feels so good when you touch me. It feels good when you even LOOK at me.

There isn’t much privacy here, but I don’t think that you’re particularly concerned with being caught, seeing as how you just intentionally had your way with me in the middle of a latte convention.

The filthiest place, you say? Well- I guess I’m going to have you behind the dumpsters then, Sir.

I give you a glance over my shoulder, and lick my lips. The look on your face is reminding me that this is still a punishment. So, I drop the smile and continue my march of shame to the trash.

The moment we’re behind the dumpsters, you hold up your hand, signaling for me to stop. “On your knees,” you command.

I look around at our surroundings, then glance to to the ground. Gravel, and garbage, and what might even be shards of broken glass. You can’t mean right here, in this spot.

“But, it’s-“

“On your knees, NOW,” you repeat.

Fuck.

This is going to hurt.

The tone in your voice and the look in your eyes tell me that this is not optional. If I’m going to continue to be your good girl, this is necessary.

I take in a nervous breath. “Yes, Sir,” I whisper, looking you in the eyes as I lower one bare knee to the ground, and then the other.

I flinch as my skin collides with the sharpness beneath me. I can feel every single speck of dust between me and the hot concrete. I remind myself that I deserve this. I want this.

You take a step closer to me. I raise my head to look up at your face, and without a word, you begin undoing your belt.

The pain in my knees is increasing by the second. I’m severely exposed. Anyone could see us. But somehow, this form of torture makes me feel alive. When this is all over, I’m going to have the taste of you in my mouth for days, and the scars on my knees for a lifetime.

I waste no time gawking at what I find inside of your pants. I’m being denied that luxury as a consequence of my actions. I take you into my mouth, and simultaneously dig my fingernails into the skin of your exposed hips.

I hear you gasp, and feel your body jerk as you experience both relief and discomfort at the same time. I stare up and bat my eyelashes, as if to say “Oh, I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to”.

Your smile widens.

I obviously meant to. But I know you’ll play this game with me.

Your smile soon fades, and you let your head fall back. You’ve been waiting to feel my mouth on your cock. You’ve been needing it for months.

Your breathing is picking up, and you’re beginning to thrust in response to my anxious sucking.

Knowing that I’m the good girl pleasing you, here in this moment, excites me on a whole new level. I rapidly work my mouth up and down your shaft. There’s no time for teasing your tip with my tongue. This is a matter of urgency. I’m down here on my knees bleeding because I so desperately want to hear you groan as you fill up my throat with forgiveness.

Little groans start slipping out between your breaths as you get closer to accepting my apology. I glance up again, and the eye contact gives you a swift push. You release a grunt.

I begin moaning, vibrating your cock with my vocal chords, which gives you an extra slap of stimulation. I bring you in and spit you out, over and over again, sucking until my cheeks are sore and my throat is raw.

Forgive me. Forgive me. You have to.

You grab a fistful of my hair, steadying yourself as your groans turn to gasps. You’re so close I can literally taste it.

Forgive me! I’m a good girl! I’m YOUR good girl!

I’m choking on the intensity of your demands, tears pour down my cheeks. My mascara must be a mess and my lip tint long gone. I’m not sure I can take anymore.

I look up a final time- “Cum for me, Sir. Cum for me. Forgive me. Cum for me”.

This time, behind a dirty dumpster around back of the coffee shop that you finger fucked me in, it is you, Sir, who is obedient to me.

It is you now, who can’t hold in your profanities. It is you, who can’t hold your hips still. It is you, who cums for me.

Your hands grip onto the back of my head, and with a guttural growl, you give me everything you have.

My mouth fills, and as I choke down every last drop of you, you give me a nod that nearly makes me cum alongside you.

I am forgiven.

I take my time sliding off of you, savoring every lick. I’ve never tasted such salty sweetness. I don’t want it to end.

You stand above me observing my makeup-streaked face and red, swollen lips. I must look like I’ve been through hell. And in a way I have. However, this hell I would gladly choose over heaven.

When you’ve finished fastening your belt, you extend both hands down to me. You touch me with such gentleness now.

I accept your reach, and let you lift me off the ground, grimacing as I bend and straighten my battered knees.

You wrap your strong arms around me, bring my head to rest on your chest, and hold me. We stand for a few moments in silence as we settle.

A gust of wind picks up and brings with it the acrid scent of spoiled food and waste. Ah yes, reality- We are standing behind a dumpster.

“Come, good girl. Let’s get you cleaned up,” you say with a chuckle and a playful kiss to the cheek.

I take your hand in mine as our much anticipated rendezvous finds its demise. “Yes please, Sir,” I answer, unable to break my smile.

Oh, Sir, I don’t think either of us will ever drink our coffee quite the same again.

About the Author:

Fetlife: TangerineSpeedo

Lets Grab Coffee: Part 1

May 28, 2018 By Paige Voxx 4 Comments

www.voxart9.com

With this being said, enjoy the story!

It’s hot outside. I’m sitting in my van with the windows rolled up and the AC on. The radio is playing an obnoxious song from a band that sounds like every other band on this station. I’ve tuned it out though. It’s just background noise. I look up and glance at myself briefly in my rear view mirror- mascara hasn’t melted, lip salve is rosy as ever.

“Open the door. Climb down. Go inside. Don’t be a pussy, just do it”, I say to myself, thinking maybe if it’s demanded of me, then I won’t be so nervous. That if it’s a command, I’ll follow through.

Transitioning from the cool 68 degrees in the car, to the humid 92 outside makes my skin tingle. It gives me goosebumps. Stepping down from the van I have to be very careful not to reveal anything. Not to show anyone how naked I really am.

You told me not to wear anything underneath my skirt, and I’m a good girl, so I obeyed you.

The feel of the air moving up from underneath me as I jump down tickles me in places I shouldn’t give attention to in public. I can’t help but wonder how long it’s going to take before my juices start running down my legs. I’m turned on by just being here.

I’ve never not worn panties in public before.

I feel like everyone around me must know.

In their heads they must be thinking, “That slut. Spreading her legs for men other than her husband”, and “Can you believe her? Have some self dignity and cover yourself up!”. …”Act like a lady!” “This is not how a mother of 5 should behave!.” “You’re disgusting!”.

But- you told me to do it. And I want to be so very good for you.

Besides. Nobody REALLY knows that there’s nothing but dirty girl sexual tension underneath my clothing. For all they know, I’m a nun.

I walk into the coffee shop where the temperature goes back to freezing, keep going straight ahead with my eyes somewhat down, and then get in line.

Iced or hot? Iced or hot?

If I get iced, I’m going to find myself seductively biting my straw. But if I get hot, all of my lip tint will rub off on the cup as I sip from it. What I’m really hoping for is that the mix of rose salve and blush will rub off on you instead.

Iced. I’ll let you watch me play with the straw with my tongue. I want to draw as much attention to my mouth as possible. I want you to imagine my mouth pleasing you.

The line moves forward a step. I’m trying not to glance around with wide eyes wondering where you are. I refuse to look up. Please come find me.

While I stand, I read the back of the shirt of the person in front of me. I stare at a basket full of overpriced reusable plastic cups covered in logos, and I focus on my breathing.

It’s my turn to order. Please let this take a very long time because I really don’t want to have to make eye contact with anyone other than the cashier.

Small coconut milk iced latte. I’m jittery enough. The less caffeine the better.

The gal behind the counter compliments me on my dreadlocked hair. I smile and thank her, and just as I’m about to plug my card into the chip reader-

“There you are”, comes a voice from beside me, and quickly I feel the heat and pressure of a large, strong hand on the small of my back.

I hold my breath.

You’ve found me. You’re touching me. Please want me.

Frozen in place, I stand there like a deer in headlights as you move around me, hand still making contact and lowering down to my backside. You put your card in the reader instead. You smile at me quickly, and then make small talk with the cashier, who is asking you something about the weather, or maybe how you like the americano she made you. I’m actually not sure what either of you are saying because your hand is on my ass and I’m concentrating on clenching my legs together so I don’t let anything escape.

Oh, but shit- you just payed for me. You shouldn’t have done that. I mean, that was nice and all, but, is that how we’re doing this? This isn’t a date, right? This is more of a- thing?

The line has to keep moving, so you give my ass a nudge, and we walk over to the drink counter. There’s a lot of noise surrounding us- relaxing me enough to raise my eyes and look around. Lots of people on laptops, a few business meetings, maybe a moms group or something. They call out my drink, and I reach for it with a shaky hand.

I’m so nervous.

I wonder if the barista knows how wet I am right now. Does she get wet when she’s helping a hot customer?

I look away from her as quickly as I can. This is torture.

Your hand moves from my ass to my arm, and you start leading me to a small table in the back corner. Someone has just gotten up from it, and we move past them on their way out. It was perfect timing.

I have to carefully smooth out my skirt before sitting down-mostly checking to make sure there isn’t an obvious wet spot on the back of it- and cross my legs carefully as I descend upon the seat. I can feel the slickness as I bend, and I’m praying to god I don’t make a mess of this chair.

You sit down directly across from me. That drink that the cashier was asking you about before is suddenly in your hand. And you’re staring right at me.

I can’t help but smile and bite my lip the way that I do when I have dirty thoughts running through my mind. I realize what I’m doing, being awkward and silent, so I force myself to speak.

“Thank you for the coffee”, I say, and raise the straw to my mouth.

You stare at me only a few seconds longer, and then you say, with a completely serious, yet casual look on your face, “Spread your legs”. Followed by silence, and a smile.

My eyes widen. And so do my legs.

I’m chewing on the straw now, exactly how I knew I would. You didn’t skip a beat, did you? My heart is racing a little bit faster and my cheeks must be beginning to blush. I smile back, and simply say, “Yes,” trying to keep my voice as casual as yours.

“Good girl”, you say back.

You know how wet those words make me.

I continue seducing my straw- bending it back and forth with my tongue between sips.

As I’m pawing my mind for something to break the silence, you begin telling me about your drive. You’re going into detail about your morning and the gas station that you stopped at before heading down south-silly chatter to fill the space between us.

And then I feel your hand under the table on my knee.

I pause my straw chewing and let out a small gasp.

I try to recover with, “Oh yeah, I never win from scratch off tickets either,” trying not to ruin the cover conversation.

As you speak, your fingertips slip beneath the edge of my skirt, and your hand starts slowly moving up my thigh. You’re talking about chicken wings and how you used to get them all the time with your dad when you were a kid, and how now you always get them with your son.

I see your mouth moving and I hear your voice, but I’m having a very hard time following the actual story. Chicken wings. Car. Summer.

I spread my legs wider- my body’s natural reaction to your slow going movement up my skin. Surely, you’re going to pull your hand back at any second, and that will have been that. This is all a tease. You asked me to leave my panties at home so you could tease me. To make me want.

I’m nodding along to what you say, trying to act as if nothing abnormal is happening under the table that we’re sharing. Occasionally saying things like “Oh, me too,” and “Of course.” You’ve just finished talking about a hiking trip you took last weekend, when you clear your throat, and raise your coffee cup to your mouth.

As you’re taking your sip, you stare directly into my eyes, and your hand takes a swift yet graceful leap. I feel your fingers plunge smoothly inside of my wanting, needy pussy.

Both of my hands slam down on the table, and I suck in a loud breath of air.

Not a tease. You’re finger fucking me in a coffee shop.

You lower your cup from your mouth, and continue talking. What is even happening here? Is the hand that’s slowly working its way in and out of my pulsating womanhood the same hand that’s attached to the person flawlessly speaking to me?

I hear nothing now, and you must know this. I’m trying so hard to keep my breathing steady as you curl your fingers upward, and find that spot that no woman on earth can resist.

I’m having a difficult time keeping my eyes open all the way. And an even harder time keeping myself from rocking my hips. Oh my god there are like 40 people in here with us. I can’t believe you’re doing this.

I bring my hand over my mouth to let out a muffled moan, and turn my head to see if anyone heard me.

Nobody knows.

Our secret is safe.

You’re knuckles deep up cunt river and not a single person here, other than us, has any idea.

How are you still talking? Something, something bonfire, something, something bourbon, something, something swimming. I have no idea what you’re rambling about and I don’t care.

Is it hot in here? Anyone?

…there’s a thumb circling my clit now. Are you fucking serious?

You are obviously very pleased with yourself because you keep smiling at me with a devilish grin between speaking words about god knows what.

People are moving around the coffee shop as if nothing is happening. Walking past us to the bathrooms and back. A delivery driver dropping off a box in the back.

My eyes keep rolling back in my head and my lips keep trembling, breath becoming jagged. As your fingers slip and slide along my tight wet walls, I almost can’t control myself.

Suddenly your tone changes. You set down your coffee on the table with a gentle thud, and remind me, “Be a good girl”.

Right. Yes. I’m being ridiculous. I need to calm down. Be good. Listen to him.

“Keep looking at me, and behave, girl,” you command.

Oh, Jesus.

Yes. I will behave.

My eyes are locked on yours, and I’m being as still and quiet as I possibly can- just like you’ve instructed. And then you add another finger, and I let out a moan loud enough to turn heads from the table behind us.

I try to cover up the sound of my pleasure by clearing my throat and asking you with a shaky voice about where you plan to hike next, and you say, “I like to think of it more as exploring. …and I’m exploring something rather beautiful and dangerous right now”.

That’s it.

Fuck.

I’m done.

You win.

My hands grip the sides of the table, my mouth opens wide in a silent O. I clench my eyes shut, throw my head back, and I let my body shudder with the rush of intense waves of pleasure that are pouring over me from head to toe.

I’m leaning back in my chair, ass scooted down and towards you, trying desperately to catch my breath as quickly as my exercised lungs will allow. I look up, we lock eyes- and I see that fucking grin looking back at me.

I shake my head no. You shake your head yes.

In a few seconds when I can finally regain the ability to speak, I say “We have to leave. Now”.

There is no way that went unnoticed. How fast can I get from this side of the store to the door? When I stand up am I going to flood the place with the leftovers from my orgasm?

You’re still smiling. No, you’re laughing. You think this is funny?

You love it.

I take a deep steadying breathe, stand up without looking at ANYONE, grab your hand with a tug, and start walking, leaving my coffee sitting on the table.

Click here for Part 2

About the Author:

Fetlife: TangerineSpeedo

Paige Voxx

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