Perverted Fantasies

by Evan Harder

  My head is hanging down, the blood rushing to it, while Johnny fucks my face, slamming his cock in and out of my mouth in a fast but steady rhythm. He grabs ahold of my tits for more leverage and proceeds to slam his cock into my mouth with more intensity, his balls slapping against my nose with every thrust.

  Saliva is pouring down my face, getting in my eyes and into my nose. It’s everywhere, coating my face, getting stuck in my hair, dripping onto the floor. All in all I’m a disgusting mess. But I’m loving every second of it. As evidenced by my soaking wet pussy.

  Johnny pumps my mouth a few more times before giving it to me balls deep, stuffing his cock all the way down my throat and holding it there.

  I’m able to take him for a good ten seconds without any problem before gagging. But instead of pulling his cock out Johnny just uses my vulnerability to force his cock even deeper into my throat. I gag again, a little harder this time, and follow it up with a heavy cough that expels some deep-spit from my mouth.

  On a purely rational level, I know I have plenty of air in my lungs to survive for quite a bit longer, but my body doesn’t listen. It thrashes and bucks of it’s own accord. But Johnny knows just as well as I do that there’s no danger yet, so he doesn’t let up one bit, keeping his cock planted firmly in my throat as I continue trying to squirm away.

  My legs start banging against the back of the couch and I do everything in my power to get away from him but it’s all in vain. I simply don’t have any leverage.

  And still Johnny isn’t letting up on me at all. If anything he’s using my distress to try and force his cock even deeper inside my throat. My hands fly up and try to push him back but he’s too strong and no matter how much effort I put into it I can’t get him to budge one bit.

  “Stop fighting it,” Johnny says. “Just relax. You’re fine.”

  I know he’s right but I still can’t stop my body from thrashing.

  “I’m not going to let you breathe until you can get control of yourself,” he says. “Stop fighting me and I’ll give you what you need.”

  I try to get control over my body but it’s difficult. Not getting air makes it act on it’s own. I manage to quell most of my flailing, save for the occasional gag. But that’s probably due more to my body starting to shut down the non-essential parts more than me getting control over it.

  My world has started to turn gray around the edges and I’m filled with a strange euphoria. I seem to float out of my body, up near the ceiling. I’m looking down on Johnny leaning into me, his cock still planted in my throat. I can hear his voice but it’s distant and tinny, like it’s coming from an old transistor radio.

  “That’s better,” Johnny says. “Five more seconds and I’ll let you breathe.”

  He starts to count down.

  “Five,” he says, his voice barely audible.

  Then, “four.”

  But I don’t hear the rest.

  The next thing I know the world explodes in color. I’m gasping for breath and coughing and squirming and trying to make sense of things. I’m pretty sure I passed out but I’m not positive. The only thing I know for sure is my pussy is open wide and soaking wet and I’m hyper sensitive throughout my entire body.

  Johnny’s been here before; he knows exactly what to do. He doesn’t waste any time, spinning me around so I’m facing him. He pushes on the back of my thighs, lifting my ass up to give himself a better angle. I know exactly where he’s going and hook my arms under my legs, holding them in place.

  He slips two fingers inside my pussy and starts to bang away, not even bothering to take it slow.

  I groan and try not to screams as he fingerfucks me, his hand moving quickly against me, his fingers curled up at the tip, allowing him to reach my G-spot.

  He pauses just long enough to slide another finger into me, then goes back to pounding my wet pussy, his fingers filling me up while sliding in and out of me with increased intensity.

  “Holy fuck that feels so fucking good,” I groan, my legs shaking and my vision blurry. Something about getting finger-banged has always turned me on. I love it almost as much as getting fucked proper. Sometimes even more.

  Johnny pauses one last time to slip a fourth finger into me before again slamming away. I stifle a scream as the pressure builds, threatening to overflow.

  He reaches out with his free hand and wraps it around my throat. Staring down at me, his eyes locked onto mine, he chokes me while continuing to bang my pussy with his fingers, his whole hand practically inside me by now.

  The intense pleasure from his fingers makes me breathe harder, but his hand chokes off my air supply, which turns me on even more, which forces my body to search for more air, which increases the sensation, which brings me closer and closer to cumming.

  And then I’m nearly there, my body tensing up in preparation of release. I’m poised right on the edge of a body-wracking orgasm, held off only by the lack of oxygen getting to my lungs.

  Moments later, Johnny releases his grip on my throat, and doing so, brings a tidal wave of an orgasm crashing down all at once. My pussy gushes juices all over his hand and my body shakes and shimmies and I let out a tremendous, wordless scream.

  But Johnny isn’t done. Not yet.

  Before I’ve even had a chance to recover he slides his cock into me and starts pounding away, his hands on the back of my legs, pushing them down onto the couch alongside my head.

  Leaning into me, his entire bodyweight on top of me, Johnny fucks the shit out of me, his rock-hard cock slamming in and out of my pussy with relentless aggression, his balls slapping up against my asshole.

  Loud, continuous groans are coming out of my mouth of their own accord. I have no control over my vocal chords anymore. No control over anything, actually, which is exactly what I was hoping for when I came to see Johnny. He’s delivered on every level, just like he always does.

  His hands wander from my legs to my tits. He squeezes them while he continues fucking me, his body slamming into mine, giving me his cock balls-deep with every thrust.

  “Give me that fucking cock,” I say, staring right at him, our eyes locked together. “Fuck me like the slut I am. Fuck me like I deserve to get fucked.”

  My talking riles Johnny up, as he starts giving it to me even more intensely, hammering away at my pussy with everything he has.

  He’s close to cumming now, I can see it in his face.

  “That’s right,” I say. “Punish me, baby. Make me pay. Make me fucking pay!”

  Johnny’s grunting like a caveman now, his eyes wide and his face red and sweaty. He’s getting closer. One of his hands slide up and grabs a fistful of my hair. Squeezing tightly, he holds my head down while continuing to hammer away at me.

  “Goddammit,” I scream. “Own my fucking pussy. Own me!”

  “Shut your mouth,” he says, smacking me in the face. “Shut your fucking trap.”

  I smile and say, “Do it again,” knowing that it’ll help him finish me off.

  He doesn’t need to be asked twice, reaching out and smacking me again.

  “Harder,” I say. “Slap me like you mean it.”

  Johnny slaps me again. The sound is like a gunshot in the small room.

  “Harder!” I scream.

  So he does, smiling wickedly at me.

  “Is that all you’ve got?”

  His smile grows wider as he slaps me again, hard enough to make my cheek sting.

  “That’s better,” I say between gasping breaths. Getting smacked around is turning me on just as much as it’s turning him on, if not more. “Again.”

  He does.

  “Again,” I say.

  Johnny smacks me again. And again. And again, without me having to ask for it any longer.

  My face is tingling and tears are leaking out of my eyes but I’m enjoying every second of it. And so is he. I can see it in his face. He’s going to cum any moment now.

  “Cum on my face, baby,” I say. “I want you to make a mess ou
t of my slutty little face.”

  “Holy fucking shit,” he says, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth and pulling his cock out of me.

  I slide off the couch and drop to my knees and wrap my hand around his cock and take it in my mouth.

  “I’m gonna cum,” he says while I blow him, my hand and my mouth working in unison, jerking and sucking him off at the same time. “I’m gonna fucking cum.”

  I slide his cock out of my mouth but continue jerking him off, the saliva from my mouth allowing me to squeeze his cock tightly while it flies over his shaft.

  “Come on baby,” I say, telling him exactly what he wants to hear. “Paint my face with your cum. Make me pretty. Make me fucking shine.”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he says as his body tenses up for a moment then releases, shooting ropes of white sperm out of his cock and all over my face.

  I take one squirt on the chin and one on the forehead, then I open wide and let some of it in my mouth. I continue jerking him off, his cock spitting out the last remnants of his sperm, sending it flying. Some gets in my hair, some on my chest, some even on my legs.

  I play with his cock until it’s all but empty, taking it in my mouth at the very end to suck the final last couple of drops out.

  Johnny is looking down at my sperm-splattered face, smiling goofily, all his previous tough-guy attitude completely melted away. Now that he’s shot his load, he’s just a typical man, nothing special about him whatsoever. They’re all the same after they’ve cum. It’s the male curse.

  “Wow, you are one dirty little slut, aren’t you?” he says, shaking his head and laughing softly. He holds one hand down to help me up.

  “The dirtiest,” I reply, grabbing ahold of his offered hand and standing up. I lean in towards him. “Care to give me a kiss?”

  “Yeah, right,” he says, backing away quickly. “I’ll get you a towel though.”

  “Thanks,” I say as he grabs a towel from the bathroom and tosses it my way.

  Neither one of us says anything else as I clean myself up and slip my jacket back on. After tying it off I head for the door. Now that I’ve got what I needed from him, there’s no reason to linger. Especially since he’s lost his mojo.

  It’s not until I reach for the doorknob that he finds the balls to say anything to me.

  “Feel free to call me anytime you want,” he says, his voice lacking confidence. “I’m always here for you.”

  “I know,” I say, flashing him a little smile. Then I turn, open the door, and walk out, closing the door behind me. On to my next conquest.

  #####

  A VERY NAUGHTY LADY

  Sometimes you just need to fuck the shit out of someone. Like after a particularly tough week at work. Or when you get dumped by your girlfriend. Or screwed over by your cable company. Or after one of the million other random, aggravating things that happen on a daily basis in this fucked up world of ours happens to you. Or maybe for no particular reason at all except that what’s you feel like.

  No matter what your motivation is, the best way to protect yourself from unwanted trouble on those occasions is to pay someone money to take a pounding. Nothing gives you the freedom to do what you want like cold, hard cash.

  Now, there are thousands upon thousands of places in our inter-connected world where you can find the type of woman you’re looking for. And many of those places you don’t even have to give them money to take what you’re giving. But, like most things in life, you get what you pay for. Which is why hiring a professional escort is by far the best option.

  The beauty of this approach is that you always end up with exactly what you want, as long as you’re willing to pay up, of course.

  Do you have a hankering for a 5-foot tall, 100 pound, 20-year old blonde spinner with a tiny ass and small tits? Or maybe a 6-foot, 170 pound Amazonian MILF with gigantic tits and a huge rear end? Or something else entirely? Either way, you’re in luck. Whatever style of woman you want is just a phone call away.

  And not only that but whatever style of fucking you’re in the mood for is well within your grasp also. Do you feel like smacking around a cute, submissive little sweetheart? Or perhaps you’re in the mood to get dominated by a bad-ass chick with half of her head shaved and tattoos covering her body? Or maybe a nice romantic evening with a stunning model that includes dinner and drinks and a passionate night of lovemaking afterwards? No matter what, you can get exactly what you desire, as long as you’re willing to pay for it. That’s the beauty of the free market.

  Thanks to escorts, I’ve done pretty much everything imaginable with all types of women over the years, and it has never gotten old. Variety is the spice of life, and with hundreds of thousands of combinations right at my fingertips, I never want for diversity.

  But on this night, my mood is running a bit on the extreme side. Lately my frustrations have been plenty, and I’m in desperate need to take them out on someone. So I place a phone call to an old standby, a young woman I’ve been with a couple times before, and have never once had anything but a glorious night with. Her name is Kristina, and she is the ultimate slut.

  #

  I rented a nice one-bedroom suite for the night, because everyone knows that hotel room sex is better than any other kind of sex, although to be honest, I’m not exactly sure why. Regardless, I was sitting on the couch, enjoying the fourth beer of a six-pack, when there was a knock on the door.

  Smiling in excitement, I rose to answer it, not even bothering to check the peephole. I knew who it was. And as I opened the door, there stood Kristina, in all her glory.

  The funny thing about Kristina was, if you saw her out in public, you’d have no clue how depraved she truly was. Let alone how much pure sluttiness she could exude when she wanted to.

  As she stood at the door dressed in a loose sweatshirt, a pair of baggy jeans and sandals with just a hint of makeup on and her hair done in a simple ponytail, she appeared to be nothing more than a fairly normal, reasonably attractive woman in her early twenties. If you looked closely you might notice the incredibly tight body beneath the clothes or the bone structure of her face or the amazing depth of her green eyes, but unless you saw her done up and ready for action, you wouldn’t believe how incredibly slutty she could be.

  But I did. And I couldn’t wait to see the transformation. So I held the door wide and let her in.

  “So what’s on the table for tonight?” Kristina asked after I’d closed and locked the door behind us.

  “Oh, it’s gonna be a rough one,” I replied, still smiling.

  “Well, duh, I knew that,” she said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have called me. What I meant was, how rough?”

  “That depends on how much you can handle,” I said.

  Kristina scoffed and gave me that look of disdain that I’d come to know and love. “Come on, Nick. You I can handle anything you can dish out.” There was no emotion in her voice, it was just a flat statement.

  “Normally you can,” I said. “But tonight I’m going to take things further than I ever have before.”

  “Good,” she said. “Then maybe you can actually get me to where I want to be for once.”

  “I never have before?” I asked. Not that this was news to me. I knew Kristina was far more depraved than I had the capacity for, but I wanted to hear how she’d reply.

  “You’ve been close,” Kristina said. “But so far I’ve never met anyone who hasn’t left me wanting for more.”

  “Not even me?”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” she said, offering me a pale smile that betrayed the fact that she was just humoring me. “I always leave satisfied after a night with you, but I certainly haven’t ever got the point where I wasn’t hoping that you’d take things further than you did.”

  I shook my head and laughed under my breath. I’d done some pretty fucked-up things to her previously, and if those hadn’t even approached her limits, that was amazing. I knew she was edgy, but I didn’t realize how much she could actu
ally take.

  “Damn, girl,” I said. “You must have some serious issues inside that head of yours.”

  She just smiled and shrugged. “What can I say? I’m one fucked up little slut. In more ways than one.”

  “Damn right you are. And it’s a good thing too, otherwise I wouldn’t have anyone that I could take my aggressions out on.”

  “I hear you there,” Kristina said. “So how about if I go get cleaned up and a slip into something a little more interesting?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  I stared at her amazing ass working beneath her jeans as she walked away from me and into the bathroom to get cleaned up. Then I went to the kitchen back to the couch and opened up another beer. I had done this sort of thing so many times that I didn’t have to have a buzz going to be comfortable, but it certainly didn’t hurt.

  #

  When Kristina came out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, she was completely transformed. Where before she was a relatively normal young woman, now she was the ultimate slut. Her hair was up in a simple but incredibly sexy fashion and her makeup was expertly done, from the black mascara surrounding her eyes to the bright red lipstick. Gone were the regular clothes, replaced by a revealing blouse that left very little to the imagination, a form-fitting skirt that barely covered her ass and showed off her long, shapely legs and a pair of 3-inch high, fuck-me heels.

  But it was more than just her looks that had changed. Her entire demeanor, from the knowing smirk to the evil glint in her eyes to the way she held herself just screamed slut. It was breathtaking. My cock immediately started to rise.

  “So what do you think?” Kristina asked.

  “Wow,” I replied. “Just wow.”

  “It take it you’re happy?”

  “As always,” I said. “You’re amazing.”

  “Yes,” she said, shooting me a playful glance. “Yes I am.”

  I laughed under my breath for a moment before gathering myself. Playtime was over. I was ready to get busy.