‘Lady Danger’ (a very dirty sex story) #lippie

I was reading a story by a very talented writer who writes a blog over at GirlOnTheNet.com (@girlonthenet) which you can check out by clicking HERE. Turns out she wrote it as part of a short story competition set up by another amazing sex blogger, @sexblogofsorts. The idea is, she gives you the name of a lipstick, and you write an erotic short story with the lipstick name as the title and then enter it as part of the #lippie competition which you can check out HERE

I obviously love writing a bit of fiction, but having a word limit and writing stories to go along side the other great entries is still quite daunting (I encourage you to check out the other entries because there are some real bangers.) 

Anyway, the name of the lipstick I was given was Lady Danger and this is my entry. I went for something a little bit different. The isn’t a happy story, but it’s…well you’ll see. It’s also mad dirty, so be careful where you read it. Or not. Your choice!

This is real lust.

I don’t care what people say, there is no lust without danger. Without  pain. Not real lust. Real lust straddles the line between love and hate and the lines between the two blur so much that it becomes something new. Something undiluted by emotive response or the knowledge of more complex feeling. It is animal; and base and will not stop until it is satisfied. Real lust cannot be resisted by willpower. There has to be more than just to want someone. Much more. To want is to imply you can go without. It implies a luxury that can be denied if required. This is not what I feel when I look at her. When I look at her I only see my hunger to devour every part of her.

‘You don’t want me to ever stop this do you.’ I say to her.

‘Don’t stop, don’t ever stop.’ She breathes.

‘Never.’ I reply simply. Truthfully.

Ours is not a relationship of mutual interests or shared experience. Ours is a relationship based solely on physicality. But it does not stop there. To own her body is not enough. I want to own every part of her. I want to corrupt her so completely that there is nothing left but her desire for me. I want to scar her soul even as her nails scar my body.

This is real lust.

I have long since shattered her belief in fairy tale endings and robbed her of any chance to have normal relations with a man. She is mine so completely that I know I have ruined her. She won’t admit this to me, even when I ask, but I know it’s the truth. It is written all over her in a language only I can read. In the process I have also ruined myself of course. My work, my friends, even my family; all inconvenient obstacles that keep me from my goddess. I can’t thank Angela enough for introducing us.

‘Am I your king?’ I ask her as I pin her down by her throat.

She takes her hand and places it around mine, looking at me in the eyes, squeezing it that little bit tighter. ‘You are.’

I smile at her. The response is what I’ve come to expect. She knows I want to dominate her. To completely take over every inch of her body and use it for whatever purpose takes my sexual fancy. She embraces this side of me in a way that leaves me completely free to fulfil my every fantasy, no matter how filthy. No matter how dark. She knows I want every part of her to submit to me and she does so willingly.

‘Open your mouth.’ I command.

She obeys as always. The look in her eyes telling me that she will do anything to please me. To keep me satisfied. She tries to show defiance by hesitating, but I know this is part of the game. She wants me to overflow with lust until I can’t help but show her just how much she has tormented me with her body. Her need to know she has destroyed me is what motivates her. It’s sick, but the rules of the game are simple. I must want her with every part of my being. I stop fucking her and move from between her thighs to straddle her body, my cock glistening from how wet I’ve made her. I can’t help but admire it. I want to watch her taste herself. To see her enjoy how impossibly hard she has made my dick whilst tasting the cocktail of sex that covers it.

‘Put your hands above your head.’ I tell her.

She is well practiced at this part and knows what is coming. She attempts a look of nonchalance but I see through her. I know her better than anyone has ever known another person. I have seen her truth. Her soul has been bared to me and I know that she longs for the taste of me. She craves to have me fuck her mouth to my satisfaction. I know that she dreams of it and lives for the moment I use her to please me. I will not disappoint her.

This is real lust.

I take the tip of my cock and trace it around her lips, making her wait for the moment I let her take me in full. The mix of my pre-come and her wetness giving her the look freshly applied lip gloss. When I am satisfied that she can wait no more, I succumb to the desire to feel her wet mouth take me whole.

‘Tilt your head my queen.’

I know her body intimately. It has no secrets from me. I know how she takes it best. She tilts her head backwards ever so slightly, knowing now that I will not simply be using her mouth. This will be rough. She closes her eyes, as if to fully enjoy the moment, mouth open and waiting expectantly. I am now fully overtaken by my need for her. I can feel the familiar excitement that borders on anger. The desire that borders on frustration. To not have her would be akin to not breathing. She is everything to me and I to her. Consequence, regret, conscience? Mere notions of morality that do not apply to us.

This is real lust.

I move my cock into her mouth and rub it along her tongue, the feeling of complete ecstasy almost too much. I could come instantly. I tell her so, and she tries to tell me this is okay. Encourages me almost. But I know her. She savours the battle raging inside my body, the internal struggle between my need to release and my need to satisfy her. She gets off on it because she knows her pleasure will always win. No, this won’t be quick, and she would want it no other way.

This is real fucking lust.

I begin fucking her mouth. Slow at first but then progressively harder. Progressively deeper. As my rhythm speeds up I notice her open her eyes and look at the wall, almost as if she was attempting to imagine something.

‘I see. A challenge?’

Her look of disinterest doesn’t fool me. She is daring me. Daring me to go harder. So I do. I grab the back of her hair roughly and force her to take my whole length, whilst simultaneously thrusting my hips towards her mouth. I can feel my cock pounding the back of her throat and the sound of her trying not to gag only increases my enjoyment. I thrust and thrust but it isn’t until I look down at her and see the mascara running down her cheeks that I fully give into the moment. The sense of complete sexual fulfilment I know we are both feeling is enough to take me to orgasm and I feel my leg muscles tighten and my abs cramp as I shoot my load into the back of her throat. I moan with rapture, as I know she would if her mouth was not otherwise occupied. I hold her so that her mouth is at the base and then release her. She splutters and my come runs down her chin and onto her chest. She looks a vision of sexual perfection and I can tell she is satisfied in a way most women will never know.

We lie still for a few minutes and then she goes to the bathroom, emerging fully clothed a while later. She goes over to the desk and picks up the envelope I have placed there for her. Pocket money for being such a good girl. She looks at me with pitying eyes, which I know is because she is desperate not to leave me.

‘I thought you could stay a while longer?’ I venture.

Her facial expression softens even further. ‘Baby we’ve been through this, you know I can’t stay unless you book for longer.’

‘I know.’ I struggle to maintain composure. ‘But I know you want to. Just a little while longer and-‘

‘Stop it baby, don’t ruin things. Call Angela next week and I’ll see you again. You know you’re my favourite guy.’

There it is. She is being forced to leave, but she wants me to know that she is thinking about me. We are everything to each other. She blows me a kiss and leaves the room, leaving the room key card on the side as she does. I lie there thinking about her until I can no longer bear the thought of us being apart. I take out my phone and dial the number.

‘Hello?’ Answers an older ladies voice.

‘Hello Angela? It’s me, I’d like to see Delilah again as soon as possible please.’

I can’t wait. This is real lust. It’s real. It’s real.