Minister of Propaganda for the Decepticon Empire (fierceawakening) wrote in strapon_porn,
Minister of Propaganda for the Decepticon Empire
fierceawakening
strapon_porn

smuttiness

I'm not sure why exactly I was so attracted to B. Maybe it's that he's blond, and I've never dated a blond boy. Maybe it's that he's so Catholic he blushes to admit his buddies dragged him to a strip club once and he talks only about the pleasure of "kissing" his last girlfriend.

He's pale. I wonder if he marks nicely. I wonder if he's one of those boys on whom bruises bloom angry purple, and the faintest scratches show angry pink. I wonder if his body could become a map for where I've been. I wonder how he'd scream. I wonder if the pain would startle him, if his body would twist away from mine, if he'd only turn it back toward me if I coaxed or ordered. Or if the boy who said he "didn't understand" such things would surprise himself by sticking his ass out toward me for another hit.

I wonder how the boy almost too embarrassed to admit staring at naked women with his friends would blush if I told him to strip, to stand straight with his head behind his back as I slowly circle around him, inspecting.

I'd like to see his reaction to me naked, given his embarrassed delight at other naked women. But I wouldn't give him that pleasure just yet... instead, I'd watch his head drooping as he stands there, naked and cold, under the eyes of a woman looking over every inch of his body. His face, his lips. His chest, nipples, arms, stomach, genitals, legs. He'd sense or imagine my eyes on every freckle.

And I'd inspect everything. He'd gasp as I inspected even his asshole. Most likely, he'd never even expect that. Good little boys don't let their girlfriends play with their asses, after all. I bet he'd flinch and pull away and ask what I thought I was doing if I so much as barely touched it. And he'd gasp as I slowly pushed my finger in, realizing that I was taking something from him he'd never even guessed I'd want. Wouldn't he be stunned to realize that even parts of him he hadn't even thought of in that way were open to me?

I thought I'd leave the fantasy there -- wouldn't want to shock the boy with a fucking. Then again, maybe I do. I wonder how he'd gasp and scream to find my strap-on inside him, reaching around and pulling his pale white body against mine. How he'd grunt as I pushed him onto me harder, making my cock push even deeper into him.

He talks like he's so innocent -- is he bashful or truthful when he talks only about kissing his ex? Then I would be his first -- I bet he'd never expect being taken by a girl before he ever took one. He'd remember it, I'm sure, the first time he claimed a lover. He'd flush with an embarrassment she'd mistake for pleasure.

I wonder if I'd pull out of him, order him to turn around, and see tears streaking down his reddened face.

I wonder how he'd stumble back to the life he had before. How it would feel when I was done with him, when he finally woke up the next morning and dressed himself to leave. He'd cover himself in layer upon layer of clothes, petals gently wrapping around his secrets. I wonder if he'd stammer again, describing kissing or looking at girls. Would he not do it now that he's seen so much -- or would he only stammer harder because of what I'd given him to remember?

Copyright 2004 by Trinity. Steal it and I shall fuck thee up.
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