Rating: NNNNN
I once had a boyfriend whose big gest turn on involved watching me stick things in, up and between my girly parts. He was a creative guy, always managing to find two or three sexual uses for the most innocuous objects.
One night, I agreed to babysit my friend’s three-year-old son while they went out and got reacquainted. My boyfriend, we’ll call him Dave, came along.
As soon as the kid went to sleep, Dave was in the kitchen looking for things that I could “use.” I was on the couch, conserving my strength, since I knew it would be a long night.
Dave returned with a beer bottle, a zucchini and a bottle of caramel ice cream sauce. “Which goes where?” I thought.
I put a condom on the zucchini because, hell, you never know, maybe it was a very slutty zucchini. As for the beer bottle, I boiled some water in the kettle and sterilized it as best I could. I really wasn’t sure what to do with the caramel sauce. I figured I’d just leave it to Dave.
He was waiting on the couch with his fly undone and his cock out, stroking it deliciously, watching me disinfect the makeshift dildos. I walked into the living room and stood in front of him, waiting for directions. Everything with him was ritual, with a smidgen of domination. I enjoyed being told what to do.
He said, “Pull up your shirt.” I slowly slid my shirt up my belly, until it crested the top of my bra. “Stop,” he said, “Now pull down your bra.” I complied, rolling the lacy material back until my breasts were free. My nipples were already hard, of course. The best thing about sex with him was how it was so slow.
“On your knees,” he said. I wasn’t allowed to taste his cock until he gave the order, so the anticipation was an added bonus. We watched each other for a while: him sitting on the couch with his legs spread and his cock in his hand, really hard me on my knees on the floor with my breasts out, waiting to be directed.
“Squeeze your nipples,” he said. I took my breasts in my hand and squeezed the stiff nipples between my fingers. He leaned over and took one nipple into his mouth. I gasped, but I wasn’t allowed to make any noise either, so he took his mouth away and gave me a stern look. Then he grabbed me by the hair and pushed my head down onto his cock. I only got a couple of mouthfuls before he yanked me up again by the hair and said, “Stand up.”
As I did he spun me around and ripped my skirt up. I was wearing my stringy thong, the underwear I usually reserved for him. He slapped each ass cheek smartly, but I still wasn’t allowed to make any noise, especially when it hurt, so I just bit my lip.
Then he pushed me forward until I was leaning on the coffee table. He pulled the stringy thong down and I felt something gooey poured between my ass cheeks. A-ha! I thought, here comes the caramel sauce. Then Dave spread my ass cheeks and licked the caramel sauce, licked it as it warmed and liquefied and oozed into my pussy, pushing me over further and spreading the folds of my pussy wide as he licked my sweet caramel clit from behind.
I came right away, biting my lip and squeezing my eyes shut, the muscles in my thighs shuddering, fighting to keep silent. He spun me back around then, pulled me down to my knees and jammed his cock in my mouth.
While I sucked, Dave took the zucchini, reached down between my legs and tucked it into my pussy. Then he took the beer bottle and pressed it into my ass. I was riding the zucchini with a mouth full of cock thinking, “This is amazing sex!”
He was pushing the beer bottle in and out of my ass really quickly, and it felt amazing, but the piece de resistance was when he ran his hand down the front of my belly and expertly fingered my clit. The best part was he always took a really long time to come, so I had another two orgasms before he finally came all over my mouth and breasts.
After that I lay for a while with my face in his lap thinking, “This guy should direct porn.”
Thankfully, the kid never woke up. (Can you imagine?)
When my friends came home I had taken a shower, cleaned and reboxed the beer bottle and dropped the zucchini in the garbage. One thing we couldn’t hide was the fact that an almost full bottle of caramel sauce was now down to the halfway mark.
Zo Brubaker is a pseudonym.
love&sex@nowtoronto.com
