Drunk In Love: The Complete Series: BBW BDSM Erotica (3 page)

“Are you sure? Maybe you need to rest. Your eyes are all bloodshot.” Every time I cried, my face and eyes showed the trauma, but that was beside the point now.

“No!” I told him.

I sat up, staring him down, showing him how adamant I was not to go home alone. I didn’t want to be alone, and I damn sure didn’t want to go to our apartment. Looking at anything that belonged to Trevor at this moment would prove a disaster for me.

“Okay,” Kyle said quietly.

He rambled off his address to the cabbie. I didn’t listen for it or try to make it out. My mind shifted to something else—my original plan from earlier in the evening.

If you can’t beat him, join him,
my mind told me. Right now, I was all ears.

*****

E
very woman wanted to be desired. Passion, or some physical attraction from their mate, was essential to a girl’s self-esteem. In the last year, I’d gotten less and less of that with Trevor until it was nonexistent.

He didn’t want to kiss me anymore. When we did have sex, it was quick and effortless; the same lazy positions, as if we had resigned ourselves to routine love making. I was always left unsatisfied, and when I showed any displeasure, it evolved into an argument.

Now, as Kyle and I made it to his house, we nearly crashed through the door, kissing and groping each other.

This is what I wanted; that deep passion. Even though it was brought on by crazy events, this is what I had begged Trevor for—had even tried to seduce Brent into giving me—but somehow, I’d finally got it from a stranger.

He was barely able to lock the door behind us as I tried to tear his clothes off. Drunk sex was always like roulette to me, but of course, Trevor always got too drunk to play. Maybe it was just me that he got drunk with.

Stop it, Sam!
I yelled at myself, trying to banish Trevor from my mind. Right now, Trevor was dead to me.

Somewhere between the scene of me assaulting Trevor and Kyle’s house, I got intensely horny, so much so that we started making out in the back of the cab. Now here we were in his house about to go at it—or at least, I hoped we were.

“So, you said we can do it anyway I want, right?” Kyle asked, guiding me to his bedroom down some hallway past pictures I couldn’t see in the dark.

“Yeah, I mean... fucking is fucking. How many ways are there?”

He laughed so hard that he began coughing. I laughed, too, both from the tequila and from the nervous elation of finally letting go and giving away what supposedly “belonged” to Trevor. “Believe me, there are many different ways.”

Finally getting to his bedroom with nothing but the streetlights shining through his blinds to illuminate us, we began to strip.

“Well, whatever way you want it is what I will do.” I laughed, allowing him to kiss my tequila-flavored lips.

“Hold on a second. You’re doing this of your own free will, right? I’m not forcing you, am I?” He let me go, reaching for a light switch to brighten the room.

Tonight, I needed a man like him to fuck the pain out of me. Of course this was of my own free will! I winced, covering my eyes from the blinding light.

“I’m tipsy, Kyle, but I’m not stupid. I know how to handle my liquor,” I told him, taking off my own jacket. “I want this. I want you. I want to have sex with you under my own power and no, you are not forcing me.”

“Are you sure?” He studied my face. I didn’t say another word. I simply pulled my shirt over my head for the second time tonight. But this time, I was going to get what I came for.

By the bulge in Kyle’s pants, he was as ready as I was. Finally, someone that wanted me.

––––––––

I
couldn’t tell him no. The fire in his eyes, the bulge of his cock, and the passion was too much to ignore.

We were naked in Kyle’s bedroom, but he’d just changed the scenery. The props he’d just handed me threw me for a loop. I was panicked, but I had come too far to give up and go home. Straddling him, I could either get off or do as he said.

He gave me two silk ties, and I held one in each hand.

“What do you mean tie you up?” I looked back and forth from him, to the bed, and to my hands.

“I told you that if we did it the way I wanted to, then we could do it. This is what I want.”

With no hesitation, I began to do as he told me, looping his hands in the satin ties and tying them to the bed posts.

“Tighter!” he instructed.

He pumped his waist as I tried. “Sit still, dammit!” He did as I told him.

I instantly wanted to apologize. I just wanted to feel him inside me, numbing me from the inside, so I didn’t have to feel the pain I’d incurred tonight.

I went to kiss him, but he stopped me. “No, don’t do that. I want you to slap me.”

I backed away, confusion etched across my face, “What do you mean?”

“I want you to treat me like you hate me. Slap me; choke me; fuck me until I scream for you to stop.”

I shook my head, trying to refocus. Maybe I was too drunk. I couldn’t have heard him correctly.

“I want you to dominate me.” The word sent off a light bulb in my head. Where had I heard that term before? “I want to be you’re submissive.”

On any other occasion, I would have thought he was joking. There was no laughter in his eyes; his furrowed brow showed me that he was completely serious.

“Um... I’ve never done it before,” I told him, trying to think on any movies or books I’d read on this subject.

None of those things were useful now with a throbbing head full of liquor and a throbbing clit ready to cum.

“Do it!” he demanded. “Do it, you fat bit—”

Before the words could fully leave his mouth, my hand connected with his face. A red mark formed before I could gasp.

He smiled. Dammit, he really did like it!

“Yeah, that’s it. Don’t like it when I talk to you like that do you...?”

I slapped him again before I knew it. This time, it was with with my left hand.

“You shut the fuck up. You speak when spoken to,” I growled in his face, getting close enough to kiss him.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

Something overcame me. I felt like a deranged woman from a movie I saw some years ago. I loved how she made her slaves acquiesce to her every whim. Was a slave a submissive? This wasn’t the right time to ask; maybe later when I didn’t have him tied to a bed post.

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled briefly, then looked away like a sad puppy dog.

I guessed he didn’t want me to see the glee and satisfaction he got from me slapping him.

“Do you want to fuck me?” I asked him as I straddled his cock and watched the way it leaned. He had a nice, hard, red cock that I wanted to suck on, but this dominant thing was fun.

I tried to remember what I should do next. I guessed making him beg would be the proper thing, but first I needed to tie up his legs.

“Where are more ties at?!” I snarled, standing up and looking around the room.

“In my top drawer, mistress.”

Mistress; it had a nice ring to it.

I tied his legs to the bed posts and watched my work. A handsome man, tied naked to a bed with a hard cock sticking straight up ready for me to ride. Who knew I could do this—make someone’s cock that hard without sucking it?

Usually, that was a mandate with Trevor—sucking his cock before sex. He liked fucking my mouth before any kind of sex, and he
never
ate me out. It was like a commandment of his never to taste me.

Thinking of that selfish bastard, I felt my skin turn scarlet.

“Where are the condoms?” That was one thing I couldn’t do without. I didn’t know Kyle, and he knew even less about me.

He jerked his head toward the night stand, and sure enough, in the top drawer was a box of rubber protection. I tried something different; a trick I saw on late night TV show.

Putting the condom in my mouth, I placed it on Kyle’s cock. A sharp inhale signaled I was doing something right.

Rolling the rubber down his cock with my tongue and teeth caused him to flinch.

“Oh, you can’t sit still, huh?” I couldn’t wait any longer. This was fun, but my cunt was throbbing with anticipation.

Jumping back on top, I slid Kyle inside of me slowly, inch by inch.

“Oh, Mistress! How does it feel?”

I couldn’t speak. My eyes were squeezed shut as I picked up a rhythm. As my hands gripped his Herculean chest, my mind was fully concentrated on cumming. I needed to cum right now.

Moans were my only form of communication as I grinded his pelvis into mine. We started off slow, my sex cinching his. Then he started talking again.

“Mistress, I want you to cum all over me,” As he spoke, the power of his hips magnified. “I can’t wait until you let me eat you mistress. Please, can I suck the cum out of you? Please?” he begged.

No one had ever begged for me before. It was a turn-on that I hadn’t experienced in years. He was so deep inside, and it felt sweet, as if his cock was candy to my sex. I wanted to swallow him whole.

Rubbing my clit and riding this massive cock sent waves of heat over my body. The tingling of nerves coming alive shot through my body until my legs lost function.

I was cumming, screams escaping me and bouncing off the walls. I pounded on Kyle’s chest and bounced on him like a derby-winning pony.

“Oh, Mistress... May I cum now? Please?”

That was weird. Still inside me and hard as concrete, Kyle now wanted my permission to cum. I wasn’t sure if I could say anything other than yes.

Reaching for the sides of the bed posts, I untied him.

“Yes, you may cum.”

As soon as his hands were free, Kyle grabbed me close, pulling me down to him and pumping away. Our bodies meshed together were like exploding volcanoes of cum. Before tonight, I’d thought that multiple orgasms were impossible, but I was about to have one.

“Yes, fuck me, dammit!” I tried to slap at his face, possessed by some orgasm demon as I matched his speed.

“Yes, Mistress!,” he screamed. We both held onto each other for dear life, squeezing the orgasms out of each other.

The second one was better than the first, if that were even possible. Huffing and puffing with our juices flowing everywhere, I felt like I was floating in some cloud.

I was glad things didn’t work out with Brent, and to hell with Trevor; I had a real man now, and his name was Kyle.

****

T
he sun shining in my face woke me up. The beating of Kyle’s heart was in my ear, and opening my eyes, I saw our naked legs intertwined in the sheets.

It was glorious pain as my head was spinning, and my thighs ached as if I worked out jogging for miles. Instead, I’d ridden a dick like a bicycle last night. Thinking of it made my clit twitch.

Kyle’s hand stroking my hair let me know he was awake.

“Hey, you,” he said as I picked up my head, looking into his eyes. His charcoal-colored eyes and his alabaster teeth glimmered at me. It took me a moment to remember where I was or how I got here. The silk ties hanging from the headboard brought it back into focus.

Wow, it wasn’t a dream. I had a vivid imagination, but even I couldn’t have dreamt the occurrences of last night.

“That was amazing.” Kyle took the words out of my mouth. I smiled, recollecting the many orgasms I’d endured. Even if I were completely sober, I wouldn’t have been able to keep track of all the times and ways he pushed me to cum.

“I’m not a fat bitch, you know,” I told him, sitting up and pulling the sheets around me. He didn’t register what I was saying for a moment. I saw his mind trying to figure out what I was talking about.

“Oh, that... I was just trying to motivate you.”

Was this some type of sexual reverse psychology? He further explained, seeing the confusion on my face:

“I wasn’t trying to insult you,” he said. “I just wanted to make you mad enough to take out your aggression on me. Sometimes I like playing the submissive.”

Playing? Was this a game to him? What was Kyle talking about?

“As opposed to what? What’s usually your role?”

This guy was mysterious. His face took on this cryptic, devious smile. Last night, I didn’t get a chance to fully investigate him. This was the first time I’d done something like this: a full-fledged one-night stand, and I picked him.

Looking past Kyle to the bed post, I saw a remnant of the night before. The silk neckties were still dangling from around the wood. It was erotic seeing him tied up and helpless—riding him into submission and then him forcing me to untie him so he could take over.

“You see, I’m always in charge.” He might as well have been speaking a different language. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I liked it.

“What you did to me last night—what you allowed me to do to you—I loved it,” I told him. I remembered the squirming of his body and how I’d commanded it; how he’d nursed me to an orgasm that I never thought was possible. My legs were still sore from the trauma of cumming multiple times.

Kyle looked over me with a grin, not saying a word. As he looked down into my eyes, I felt like a deer in headlights.

“If you want that power, you can have it.” He said it like it was as simple as me grabbing someone off the street. My confusion must have worn on my face. He laughed and rubbed my forehead, dissolving the furrowed brow I was forming.

“I didn’t choose you just because I think you’re beautiful.” I blushed at his words. “I chose you because I thought you needed it.”

Now that was even more confusing.

“What?”

“A BDSM lifestyle is about taking control and relinquishing it. Your life seems out of control. I want you to take it back.”

I waited for a smile to cross his face, or a set of balloons and cameras to come from under the bed and tell me I had been Punk’d. Nothing like that happened.

He handed me a card from his nightstand. A business card, of all things, and who knew that there was a title to what he was saying?

Kyle Turner

Dominatrix Trainer

Who knew this was a profession?

“What the hell is this?” I questioned him.