Stripped Down Page 2

  Beside me, he chats casually with her and smiles. He knows I’m a sucker for a pissed-off femme domme, not to mention one wearing even more latex than I am. From my angle above her, I can see down into her cleavage and admire the beads of wetness on her full breasts. I’m starting to feel wet again myself. He knows. He knows it’s time to fuck me again. He knows it’s time to go for a walk…

  On our next date, we meet at midnight, this time in another alley, in a different part of town. He’s hanging out in a club up the street; I’ve been instructed to drive into the alley and wait for him in the backseat. I send him a text message to let him know I’ve arrived, and arrange myself to be ready for him. He leaves the club and approaches my car.

  I’m wearing a cream-colored knee-length A-line leather skirt. The material is so soft and buttery that most admirers don’t even recognize that it’s made out of leather—at first glance anyway. This skirt always gets a second glance. It’s not short, it’s not tight, and it’s not an eye-catching color. But it manages to exude a subtle yet no-nonsense sexiness. It’s a great skirt for a dominant woman to wear, because of its strict lines. But I’m a submissive, and I like to wear it to feel encased in it, bound by the leather, however loosely, as it falls around my thighs.

  There’s a rap at the window, and I reach over to unlock the door and let him in. Let him come in and fuck me.

  As requested, I’m not wearing any panties. Although this time it’s not because of the length of my skirt, of course, but because of other constraints of the scene. Namely, he wants quick and easy access to my cunt; he wants to fuck me quickly and then leave me to go back to his friends at the club. It’s all been prearranged. We move like we’re dancing. Only there’s no music. Just the sound of leather rubbing against vinyl, and breathing. His breath and mine. Mostly mine as he’s fucking me hard and I’m struggling to endure it. To take it all in. He’s packing this time, all right, using one of his biggest cocks.

  The day was hot but the night is cold. The windows steam over, and as I’m parked illegally in a one-way, dimly lit alley, I’m beginning to worry if we’ll attract any unwanted attention. He doesn’t seem to be concerned. He was cavalier from the moment he entered the car. He hasn’t said a word to me, in fact. Just leapt in, closed and locked the door behind him, shoved me down onto my stomach, and used one hand to pull his cock out while the other pushed my skirt up.

  He’s gripping my skirt, the thin leather bunched into his fist. One of my arms is pinned under me, but with the other I start to reach out and run my hand along his pant leg. I discover he’s wearing leather chaps over his jeans, and that they fit nice and snug. I try to reach far enough to get to the edge of the leather, so I can stroke his crotch, feel his real cock, the one that’s slowly been getting bigger as he’s been transitioning and taking testosterone. But he’s not having any of this, doesn’t want me to move. He rams his cock into me to the hilt and uses both his arms to hold me down, immobilizing me. My face is buried in the vinyl of the seat, my legs spread wide with one on the seat and the other leaning over the side toward the floor, and all else is sound and heat and motion and fullness. His chaps are rubbing the vinyl, my skirt is rubbing the vinyl, and there’s no room to breathe. I’m gasping for air, wondering which one of us will come first, when suddenly, without warning, he pulls out.

  He pulls out, and pulls back, and I can finally catch my breath. But I’m confused. I shift around to see what’s going on, and witness him pulling two things out of his pockets. My eyes go wide as I see that one is a rubber ball gag with leather straps, and the other is a small packet of my favorite anal sex lube. He lays the lube packet on my bare ass and speaks for the first time all night.

  “Open up.”

  I open my mouth to receive the gag, and then he secures the straps in place at the back of my head. Now he twists the tab off the lubricant, and dribbles it onto his dick. His second sentence comes at me:

  “Get ready.”

  The head of his cock is already pressing against my asshole. When we talked about meeting in the alley, he said he wanted things to go quickly. But if he’s seriously thinking of fucking my ass with that big toy, this is going to take a while.

  Or so I think.

  He works it in with surprising speed. Behind the gag, I’m grunting and half-screaming, but he knows I can take it, and I know he’s going to make me. The perverse thrill of submitting to this sadistic “forced” ass fuck actually causes me to open a little more, which eases his way inside. He’s one step ahead of me, and pushes as I acquiesce.

  When his cock is completely in my ass, he pauses for a moment, to give me a chance to feel the extent to which he’s stretched me out, to confirm my own surrender. One moment, and then it’s over. That’s all I get. After that, it’s his turn.

  He pounds me hard, fucking me for all it’s worth. He’s determined to come and he knows how to use my ass for his own pleasure. My job is to endure. Gagged, held down, plowed, I am a thing to him. An object. A leather-clad fuck-hole. He slams into my ass, over and over, until he shoots his orgasm into me. It’s not liquid, of course; it’s an energy, and thus, twice as potent. I take every drop, deep into my ass, for him.

  And when he’s done, he pulls out gently, undoes my gag gently, slides me over onto my back gently, smoothes down my skirt gently, and gently, very gently, reaches under my skirt and flicks one slick finger against my clit.

  I explode.

  I come against his hand with a roar, violent waves of pleasure crashing through me. He holds me as I come, body to body, leather to leather, gripping me tightly until my moans subside.

  Then, just as quickly as he entered, he puts his silicone dick back in his pants, zips up, and leaves.

  Next time we’ll play in PVC.

  JUBILEE

  Quinn Vertiz

  “Getcher dicks on, boys, we’re goin’ in!” Drake shouted from the front seat as we pulled up in front of a double-wide with Momma’s flashing over the door in red neon. The light illuminated a few cars parked in front and smaller trailers strewn around the empty desert like abandoned child’s blocks.

  The door of the double-wide burst open as we piled out of the van and a stout woman with an enormous amount of bleached-blonde hair stepped out and yelled, “Come on, boys, I’ve got some real beauties waiting for you in here.” She struck a bell hanging by the door with six quick raps. “And that will get up a few more,” she said with a big fleshy smile. “Do my eyes deceive me or it that Drake?” She clapped her hands together. “The girls will really come running for Drake and his boys. Get your cute little butts in here.”

  I lagged a little behind the other guys, walking funny from the big cock Drake had picked out and strapped onto me. It went down the leg of my jeans and pinched my thigh with each step.

  “Hey—Baby Boy, where are you? Don’t hang back this time.” Drake got me in a headlock and dragged me up the stairs. I could smell his sweat and the musty scent of his leather jacket, and it soothed me. “Momma, look what I got here for one of your special girls.” Drake pulled me into the sparsely lit living room, thrusting me in front of Momma so my face was eye level with her cavernous cleavage. “This is my boy and I’ve brought him to you to find just the right girl to pop his cherry.” She grabbed my head, getting a good grip on the tuft of hair on top of my head, and pulled me down into her breasts where it was all softness and perfume. I sighed contentedly in the dark space.

  “What a cutie! What a sweet boy. Why, I’d want him for myself, if you weren’t here.” She winked at Drake and he leered back. “I think I have just the girl, yeah, there’s a new girl and she’s perfect. Deanna!” she yelled to the skinny girl sitting at the bar by the phone. “Run out and get Jubilee…and tell her I’ve got a special treat for her—a baby butch cherry to pop.”

  I felt Deanna’s bony hand grab my clammy one. I looked back at Drake sprawled out on the sectional that was crammed into the trailer’s crowded front room. Drake jumped up and slapped my as
s. “You go on, boy, do your dad proud. Remember what I told you. And you’ve got your dad’s lucky dick, so get out there and fuck her senseless, Baby Boy!” He grabbed the dick where it stretched the material of my jeans over my left thigh, said, “You go get’er,” and with that he shoved me out the door so I almost tripped over the skinny Deanna.

  “Come on,” she whispered. “You’ll like Jubilee, don’t worry.” I suddenly felt panicked and it must’ve shown on my face. “Oh, you are worried, poor boy, you’re white as a sheet.” She stopped and took my face between her hands for a minute and kissed my forehead so softly. “I mean it—you don’t have a thing to worry about, a sweet handsome baby butch like you, Jubilee’s gonna take real good care of you. Is it really your first time?”

  I thought of all those times kissing and groping Marie in her bunk back at juvie, and I knew that wasn’t what Drake meant by fucking. “Yeah…it’s…it’s my first time.” I couldn’t help myself, I blushed. Suddenly I wished Drake were there. I wished he was standing right by me telling me what to do. I almost turned and ran back into the big trailer right then, but Deanna grabbed my hand again, as if she knew what I was thinking, and said, “Let’s go—Jubilee’s waiting.”

  We walked through the dark bit of desert, stepping around old tires, empty liquor bottles, and shot-up beer cans, skirting the trailers scattered here and there. They were a motley collection, everything from cool, bulletlike Airstreams to truckbed campers up on blocks. Some of the trailers were dark and quiet and others blazed with light, music, whoops, and sharp cries. Toward the end of the camp we came to a small green trailer, the single-axle kind, with the rounded edges of the early sixties and blocks under the front and back to make it level and stable. More cinder blocks had been piled to make steps up to the door and beside them was an ancient and wind-battered jade plant.

  Deanna knocked on the door. “Jubilee, Momma’s got someone for you.” We heard a voice from inside, though I couldn’t make out the words. Deanna opened the door and poked her head in. “Momma said to tell you that this one’s real special, a sweet baby butch, and you get to have his cherry, all right?”

  I heard laughter from inside. “Send him in, sweetie.”

  Deanna grabbed me by the shoulders as if she knew that I was thinking of bolting again (“Remember what I said, don’t you worry now”), and shoved me up the cinder block steps. I came to a stop on the few square feet of linoleum that designated the mini-kitchen, and wiped the ice-cold sweat off my palms onto my T-shirt. Drake’s dick felt like a fist pressing into my crotch in the tight harness. I tried to swallow but found that my mouth was so dry I couldn’t. I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. The inside of the tiny trailer was strung with pink Christmas lights, and the table and counters of the kitchen/dining area were crammed with thick leafy plants. The other end of the trailer was draped in cloth of every texture and weight, and I didn’t know where to look.

  “Hey, sweet boy, come here and let me take a look at you.”

  Her voice was rich and warm, like coffee, and as I turned to look into the red and pink cloth womb of her bed she shone out like a full moon breaking through the clouds, her pale skin dusted white in the dim light and seeming to glow from within. She sat up and swung both legs over to the floor. Her hair fell long and dark behind her. The deep red of her lipstick was the only color in her pale face, and her filmy pink slip showcased her lush creamy cleavage and strong thighs. I stood, stock-still, trying to work up enough spit to swallow.

  “Come sit with me,” she said as she handed me a glass of water, and clearly not trusting my ability to locomote any more than I did, she took my hand and pulled me across to the bed to sit awkwardly on the edge. She curled up against the cushions half behind me. “What a big handsome boy you are,” she said, lightly brushing my arm and thigh with her fingers. “Just relax and take your time and tell me what you want when you’re ready.”

  I could see my boots were resting there on the floor, but I couldn’t feel my feet in them. I thought my palms must be making an oily slick of cold sweat on the front of my jeans but I couldn’t move them. Shit—I was scared. I wished Drake was there to make things happen. I wished I was Drake and that I knew exactly what to do. It had seemed, when Drake strapped his big dick onto me and then pulled up my shorts and jeans and slapped my butt and said, “Go get ’em tiger!” that the dick would know what to do, but now it just lay there like the most obvious lump in the world, stretching my jeans all out of shape.

  “Poor sweet boy—come here,” she said, and I felt her soft hand on the back of my neck, petting the clipped hair like I was a cat. “Don’t worry, Jubilee will take care of you. Don’t be scared, just let me hold you for a while.”

  I curled myself around and let her fold me into her arms. With her hand still on my neck she pulled my head down to rest on the soft cushion of her breasts. She smelled like mango ice cream and I breathed in the wonderful scent of her and suddenly felt so relaxed that I thought I might just fall asleep right there.

  She picked up my hand. “What big strong hands you have,” she said, bringing my hand up to her mouth and sliding first one, then two fingers past her lips.

  I gasped at the warm silk of her mouth and the surprise of her throat closing on the very tips of my fingers as she pulled them all the way in. Suddenly the dick that had felt like a hard lump of silicone in my pants turned into an electric extension of my now bulging clit. It was like the monster when Dr. Frankenstein flips the switch and lifeless matter roars to life. She released my hand and it went straight to my crotch to half-cover, half-stroke the newborn monster. She slid away from behind me and my shoulders fell against the side of the trailer. I grabbed her hand and put it on the bulge in my jeans. She bent over and, pressing the cloth down over my cock with her hand, she traced the outline with the point of her tongue, all the while looking up at me sideways to see my reaction. I looked straight at her for the first time and was lost in her huge brown eyes. Oh, she was so beautiful, with her pale perfect skin, broad cheekbones, and lush glossy lips. I couldn’t stop looking even as I felt stripped by her gaze, exposed in my helpless need for her to take me in her mouth. I fumbled with my belt and she pushed my hands away, peeling back the belt, opening my jeans and expertly threading my hard cock out of the fly of my boxers. She grabbed a condom from the shelf, tore it open with her teeth, and worked it down over my dick with her mouth. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  I didn’t know what to do with my hands, which were flopping around next to me on the bed as my body jumped and pulsed with the sheer force of her mouth on my dick. She worked up and down the shaft, sometimes taking the head of the big dick all the way down her throat with the sweetest muffled grunts, sounds escaping in choked bursts around the thick head. Then she would back off and caress the head with just her lips, letting her excess spit trail off the tip of my cock like it was my own come. My hips bucked with wanting to fill her throat again.

  I felt like I would go crazy, or die, or maybe come, if she’d just go on sucking me. Suddenly she grabbed my hands and put them on either side of her head, my fingers tangling in her cool thick hair. She took her mouth off my dick long enough to say, “Go ahead—pull my hair—I want you to. Fuck me as hard as you want, I can take it.” That was all I needed to hear and the last of my fear drained in the face of my mounting need. I dug my fingers into her hair, winding the thick heavy strands around my hand and pulling her head down to my crotch. My hips rose to meet her mouth and I bucked like a bronc, feeling the resistance of her tight throat on each thrust against my throbbing, bursting clit. I came in an electric flood, hearing a cry and not knowing if it was my own voice or someone else’s.

  In the dark silence that followed I felt Jubilee sit up and then curl around me with her head on my chest. I brought my hands up to stroke her face and the gorgeous hair I had just been yanking on. “Your hair smells so good,” I said. It was like a summer garden at night, all full of mysterious sweet and pungent smells.<
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  “That’s my good boy—you just relax now.” Her hands stroked my shoulder and arm. I pushed the spit-slicked dick down between my legs. We were silent and still and our only conversation was the sound of our breaths slowing and calming together.

  Suddenly the door burst open and Drake bounded into the tiny trailer. “Hey—Baby Boy—you’ve done it! I peeked in and saw that you got yourself a real first-class blow job. Yeah, they don’t get much better than that, do they, Jezebel—or was it Jasmine? What did you call yourself back in Vegas? Well, it don’t matter. What matters, Baby Boy, is that she gives the best head in the state of Nevada and now your dad’s got a big hard-on just thinking about it.”

  “Drake—you shit! I came to Winnemucca so this wouldn’t happen anymore. You are the last thing I need right now.” Jubilee was up and into her mules in a second so that now she and Drake stood eye to eye in the small space. From my vantage point sprawled on the bed their heads seemed to almost touch the low ceiling and it seemed like the trailer would soon burst like an aerosol can in a bonfire.

  “The last thing you need? I bet your panties are telling a different story right about now. I seem to remember exactly how much you did need it. I bet you’re dripping just thinking about how I’m going to throw you down on that bed and fuck you. Don’t give me that shit. I know you too well.”

  “Fuck you Drake, and get the hell out of here. Can’t you see I’ve got a client? Just leave us the fuck alone.”

  “Oh, you mean Baby Boy? Don’t worry about him, he’s the son I never had and I’m teaching him everything I know. And now I’m gonna teach him exactly how you like to get fucked. So get back on that bed.” Drake’s hand had come up to cup the side of her face as he spoke and now he pulled back and gave her a sharp slap. “You know I can hit a whole lot harder but I don’t want to shock the boy, so get down there,” he said, and he pushed her toward me on the bed.