Aggressive Vixen

by Dakota Fox

  Even though I was on the receiving end, he was the one in control, a complete reversal of our earlier scenario, but maintaining the same principles. That was what I loved about Mike; he totally got what made sex so wonderful. A combination of tension and anticipation made the ultimate payoff that much better. He knew, just as I did, that even though one part of me was pleading with him to stop, another part didn’t really want him to. Part of me wanted my boundaries pushed, wanted to be defied, wanted to be controlled.

  This became apparent a couple minutes later as I came again, harder than I’ve ever cum before. My body shuddered uncontrollably for a full fifteen seconds and tears leaked out of my eyes. My legs shook and my pussy sprayed juices everywhere, drenching Mike’s hand and arm. Tears leaked out of my eyes and my chest heaved up and down, desperate for air.

  Smiling, Mike let his fingers slip from my pussy. “There,” he said. “ Now you’re done.”

  “For good,” I said, barely able to talk. “I think you broke me.”

  “You? Broken?” Mike said. “Never. You’re the toughest girl I know. Hell, you’re tougher than most of the guys I know. You’re damn sure tougher than me. No way could I have taken what you just did.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I said, flashing him an evil smile. “Have you ever tried to take four fingers inside you before?”

  “Hell no.”

  “Then how do you know you couldn’t take it? I think we should give it a shot.” I made a move towards him like I was going to try and slip my finger into his ass.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he said, scrambling away.

  I laughed. It was nice to regain control. Even if I did take the easy way out.

  “Come on,” I said, not willing to let it go. “Some guys are into that sort of thing.”

  “Not me,” Mike said.

  “How do you know until you try it?” I asked, moving towards him again.

  “Oh, I know,” he said, dancing behind a table to get away from me, his cock flopping around as he moved.

  “Fine,” I said. “I’ll stop trying to stick my fingers in your ass if you stop running away.”

  “Do you promise?” he asked.

  “Yes, I promise,” I said. “Now get over here so I can ride your cock for a little while.”

  “If you insist,” he said, coming back over toward the couch.

  “It’s my turn to regain control,” I said, grabbing him by the shoulders, and pushing him down onto the couch, just like he had done to me earlier. I climbed onto his waist, my knees bent, my shins flat on the cushion underneath my thighs, straddling his waist. I grabbed ahold of his cock and slapped it against my ass but didn’t yet slip it into my pussy. “You just sit there and let me do my thing.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he said, a little half-smile on his face.

  I lifted my body up and placed the tip of his cock against my pussy, which was still completely drenched and wide open from the evening’s fun. I messed with him a little bit, rubbing my pussy lips on the head of his cock for a few seconds before finally dropping my body onto his, my pussy engulfing his cock as it slipped inside me.

  At this point in the proceedings, I didn’t even bother taking things slow. Because of the length and nature of the foreplay, I knew Mike was too far along to last very much longer and I wanted to ride him for as long as possible before he came.

  I put my hands on his chest for balance and started bouncing atop him with reckless abandon, impaling myself on his cock, pounding my body onto his. I rode his cock from the very tip all the way down to the base, slamming my ass down into his groin until I could feel his balls against my asshole, taking the entire thing in fast, rhythmic thrusts.

  The room was filled with the sounds of sex; wet, slapping sounds as our bodies came together, grunts and moans and labored breathing.

  I put my palms on top of Mike’s thighs and leaned back, arching my back and tilting my head up towards the ceiling, exposing the hollow of my neck and offering him my tits.

  He took advantage, cupping his hands underneath them and lifting, pushing me even further back and changing the angle of penetration.

  I hammered down on his cock a few more times before eventually resting my body on top of his. I straightened my legs out in front of me and wrapped them around his hips. Keeping his cock deep inside me, I moved my hips back and forth, grinding on him, out faces mere inches apart.

  Staring at Mike while I rode him, it was obvious that he couldn’t hold out much longer. But I didn’t want him to cum yet, so I slowed things down, leaning forward and kissing him, giving him a chance to recover while I gently moved against him.

  But he was just too far along. Instead of slowing things down, Mike was ready to finish. He picked me up off of him and tossed me onto the couch. He stood up and turned to face me, grabbing my ankles and spreading them wide, opening me up.

  Then he took a step forward and dropped to his knees and slipped his cock into my waiting pussy. Just like me earlier, he didn’t even bother taking things slow, giving me his entire cock in hard and fast strokes right from the beginning, holding my legs wide open the entire time.

  Grunting wordlessly, he pounded away at me, giving me his cock balls deep with every thrust. He was no longer interested in any witty repartee; nature had taken over, his attention was focused solely on expelling his seed.

  He released my ankles and shifted his hands to my tits, grabbing them as he continued to fuck me, squeezing them tight as he hammered away on my pussy. One of his hands slid up to my neck. He wrapped it around my throat and gave it a little squeeze, not enough to cut off any air but just enough that I could feel it. But he wasn’t really into the rough stuff, and his hand only lingered there for a few seconds before returning back to my tits.

  Mike slid his feet backwards a little bit, then went after me with more intensity than ever, the new angle of entry allowing him deeper penetration. Holding my legs back with his arms, he pounded away at my pussy, his lower half slamming against me at the end of every thrust.

  His hands made their way up under my knees. Pushing back on them, he rolled me up even more, lifting my ass further off the couch. With his hands, he pushed down on my legs, forcing them deep into the cushions, folding me practically in half. He spread his legs wider and slid his feet forward, giving himself even more leverage, allowing him to pummel me even harder than before.

  I was close to my third orgasm of the night, but I knew I didn’t have long to finish. My hand flew down to my pussy and started rubbing my clit, trying to help things along.

  At this point in the proceedings Mike was too far along to even care. It was no longer about control, it was only about pure pleasure. A single-minded, mad rush to the finish line; a race that was nearly over. The first leg of it, at least.

  His pounding ramped up yet another notch and I knew he was just seconds away now. I went after my clit with more intensity, desperately trying to cum before he did. Because I knew that if he finished before I was then I was screwed. And not in the good way.

  As it turned out, I started to cum at precisely the same moment he shot his load into me. The often talked about but rarely achieved simultaneous orgasm was a thing of pure beauty, our bodies peaking in unison as we stared into each other’s eyes. both of us feeding off the other’s pleasure to prolong the sensation for an extra couple of moments.

  After Mike had finished he stayed inside me, our bodies joined together, not moving, just relishing the feel of each other while we came down off our orgasms. After we’d both caught our breath, he leaned forward and gave me a kiss, then pulled his cock out of my pussy.

  He fell onto the couch beside me, his cock practically glowing in the light from the cum that coated it. It was still hard but fading, although not too rapidly. From the looks of things, he wouldn’t need very long to recover before being ready to go again. Half an hour, tops. If even that.

  “So what do you think?” I asked, rolling over to look at him. “A
shower and another bottle of wine, and then we can get started on round two?”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” Mike said. “And this time, we’ll spend more time on fucking than on foreplay.”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” I said.

  Mike stood up, then held out his hand, helping me off the couch. Holding hands, we headed towards the bathroom to get cleaned up before doing it all again.

  Good old Mike, always the reliable lover. And a gentlemen to boot. I could do worse. A lot worse. I had, in fact. Many times. And undoubtedly would again in the future.

  For now, at least, I was satisfied. And really, what more could a girl ask for?

  #####

  DOMINATED BY A SEXY SLUT

  It took Frank a little while to realize just how awesome Jenna was.

  Of course, from the first time they met, certain things were obvious. Namely, Jenna was ridiculous hot, she knew her way around the bedroom, and she could take a pounding worthy of a porn starlet. Add to that her approachability, her comfort in her own skin, and her flat-out coolness, and Frank was a happy man.

  In the beginning, he was perfect content to meet with her whenever possible and get freaky in all the basic ways. Then one night she turned the tables on him, revealing just what was possible in the world of pleasure.

  That first night it was only a little taste, but even so, it quite literally opened a new world to him, one that once was experienced could never be put out of mind.

  #

  The night starts out just like any other. Frank is drinking a beer and watching TV when there’s a knock on the door. His heart palpitates in expectation as he sets the bottle aside, turns off the television, and walks over to answer the door.

  He glances into the peephole and see Jenna there in all her glory, looking as radiant as ever. A flash of excitement wiggles through his body. It’s his favorite time of the week, the night he looks forward to more than any other, the only thing that keeps him going in his pathetic little life.

  Frank opens the door and holds out his hand to help Jenna inside. She takes his hand, steps over the threshold, gives him a little peck on the cheek, and he closes the door behind them.

  They take care of the formalities and then it’s on to business.

  Jenna slips out of her full-length white coat, revealing a tiny purple bikini and light pink thigh-high stockings accented by purple fuck-me pumps. Her blonde hair is curled a little more than usual and she’s wearing slightly more makeup; hot pink lipstick and a dash of black eyeliner. Her skin is not as tan as usual but just as flawless and enticing as ever. Frank finds himself wishing (as he always does upon first seeing her skin) that he had a couple hours to lick every square centimeter of her flesh.

  Thin but not skinny, Jenna always stays in shape and tonight is no exception. Her lithe body is as toned and fit as ever. From the barest hint of abs to the slight definition of arm muscles to the incredibly sexy hollow of her neck she is the measure of perfection. Frank can’t imagine a more ideal woman. At least not one who’d he actually have a chance to fuck on a regular basis.

  But there seems to be something slightly different about Jenna this evening. An edge that usually isn’t there.

  His concerns are reflected almost immediately.

  The first thing out of her mouth is, “Sit your ass down on the couch.”

  Even though it’s a bit odd to see her being so forceful, Frank does as he’s told. He immediately starts to undo his belt.

  “Did I tell you to do anything else?” Jenna says, her tone harsh.

  Frank shakes his head and gives her a funny look. He’s confused as hell.

  “I can’t hear you,” she says.

  “No,” he replies.

  “That’s right. So leave them on. And sit on your hands, while you’re at it.”

  He tilts his head and gives her a funny look. “Are you serious?”

  “Completely,” she says. “Now do it.”

  “Fine,” he says. He shakes his head but does as he’s told.

  “That’s a good boy,” Jenna says, coming over to pat the top of his head as though he’s a dog. Which is fitting, because that’s what he feels like right now.

  “What exactly is going on here?” Frank asks. Jenna has never done anything like this before. Up until now, every time she’s come over he’s been the one in control, the one taking charge. He’s never even considered that she has another side to her. Which was a bit silly, in retrospect. Especially now.

  “This,” she says, “Is my way of mixing things up. You see, every time I come over here it’s the same old thing. You slap me around and get to do whatever you want, and then you cum on me and then I go away until next week when we do the same thing over again.”

  “But I thought you liked it,” he says, a little hurt.

  “I do,” she says. “I like it a lot. But it gets a little old, always doing the same thing. I think it’s time we mix things up a little bit. And we’re going to start by getting you to understand the other side of the equation. Today I’m going to be the dominant one and you’re going to be my submissive.”

  “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “I know you haven’t,” she says. “Which is exactly why were doing it tonight. You need to expand your horizons a bit.”

  “But what if I don’t like it?”

  “Don’t worry,” she says, an evil little smile on her face. “You will.”

  “I don’t know,” he says doubtfully.

  “Trust me,” she says. “I know what I’m doing.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. From what he’d experienced so far with Jenna, she definitely knew what she was doing. And then some.

  “Fine,” he says. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Oh I will,” she says with a little twinkle in her eye. “I most definitely will.”

  A little flutter wiggles around in Frank’s stomach. He isn’t sure if it’s fear or excitement or a little of both.

  “For now, just sit there,” Jenna says. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “If you insist,” Frank says.

  Smiling like she owns the situation (which she does, of course) Jenna forcefully spreads Frank’s legs and steps between them. Then she reaches down and grabs ahold of his flaccid cock through his jeans.

  “What’s the matter?” she says. “Don’t I excite you anymore?”

  “Of course you do,” he says.

  “It sure doesn’t look like it. Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “Let’s just see about that,” Jenna says.

  She unzips his fly and reaches into his jeans and grabs his cock and pulls it out. It just lies there pathetically, the zipper teeth digging into his skin.

  “Is that what you call excited?” she says.

  “No,” Frank says. “It doesn’t look very excited.”

  “Fix it,” she says.

  Frank grabs ahold of his cock and starts to jerk it. Thirty seconds later he hasn’t gotten anywhere.

  “Oh, poor baby,” Jenna says in a tone that offers absolutely no sympathy. “You just aren’t feeling it, huh?”

  “No,” he says, letting go of his cock.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Is it because you’re scared?” Jenna asks.

  “I think so,” Frank admits.

  “Why? Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

  “I don’t know,” he says after a slight pause.

  “You do think I’m going to hurt you, don’t you?”

  “Not really,” he says. “I’m just afraid I’m not going to like it.”

  Jenna sighs and shakes her head. “It’s obvious you’re nervous, which makes sense. So we’re going to have a little conversation. Hopefully by the end of it you’ll understand a few things.” She sits down on his lap and looks him straight in the eye. “Okay. I’m going to ask you some questions. I’ll start with an easy one. What do I do for a
living?”

  “You’re an escort,” Frank says.

  “That’s right,” Jenna says. “I’m an escort. And what do escorts do?”

  “They get paid to have sex.”

  “Exactly. Now, who does an escort get paid by?”

  “The person they’re having sex with.”

  “Right again,” she says. “Their clients. Now, with that in mind, is it fair to say that the more clients that call for a specific escort’s services, the more money that escort will make?”

  Frank nods.

  “So then how does an escort get more men to call her?” Jenna asks.

  “By . . . being good at their job?”

  “Yes. And what constitutes being good at your job if you’re an escort?”

  “Making the client happy.”

  “Bingo,” Jenna says. “The better job an escort does of making a client happy, the better the chances are she’s going to get more calls from him. And if she doesn’t make him happy, then she is in danger of losing him as a client, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Good. Now do you think I want to keep you as a client?”

  “I hope so.”

  She gives him a look that she’d give a five-year old. “Do you think I like money?”

  “Yes.”

  “And we’ve already established that more clients equal more money, right?”

  “Right,” Frank says.

  “So I’ll ask you again, do you think I want to keep you as a client?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how does an escort keep their clients?”

  “By making them happy.”

  Jenna smiles at him and tilts her head slightly. “So you see what I’m getting at, don’t you?”

  Frank nods.

  “Now, I can’t promise you that you’ll like it,” Jenna says, “But so far I’ve never come across anyone who hasn’t. And to a man they’ve ended up asking for the same treatment on other occasions. There is just something very liberating about giving yourself up to someone else, letting them control you, allowing them to have their way with you. And not only that, but it inevitably leads to better sex down the road too.”