girlboything

Instead, you make out, smoke, and fuck until the weed and the early-morning hour carry you to sleep. By fuck, you mean oral and hand stuff only. You used to do more, but she went off her birth control recently (“It was giving me acne!”) and even though you're pretty sure Estrogen has rendered your gene pool swimmerless, she's very staunch about not taking risks. “I even make him use condoms,” she explained of her boyfriend. “And pull out, and cycle track. I will not play about accidents for him.” Considering it's all the action you've been consistently getting (despite your combined efforts), you're certainly not planning on pushing for piv. She's got crazy head game anyway, or at least she does when you're high out of your mind.

Tonight, like all girls’ nights, goes the same way. Your Uber eats arrives (generously tipped), you pick your movie (pirated), and you light a joint to pass between the two of you (bankrolled by the cuck). And after your eyes are red, your throat is dry, and your clit is rock hard, she reaches a hand under your shirt and starts playing with your nipples, which are extra sensitive from the addition of prog to your medication list.

You let yourself be carried off by her soft touches and the foggy bliss in your mind. Your skin is tingling. Every inch of it becomes an erogenous zone when you're high - and the usual erogenous zones are near painfully orgasmic. She operates your body masterfully, pressing all your buttons and touching you in just the right ways to get your mind numb and your body to feel so, so good. 

She traces fingers down your side, you feel soft kisses on your neck, then teeth on your skin. Every sensation brings twitches out of your muscles and sweet moans from your lips. She nibbles your earlobe and the swell of pleasure it sends through you makes you gasp.

Time melts away. You distantly hear the shutter sound effect of her camera, and a hazy, unknown amount of time later, the ca-ching sound she set as her venmo notification. You smile and giggle, then forget why as she puts your hand up her skirt.

Her skin is so soft. She always shaves and lotions for girls' night. You feel her bury your face between her tits as you rub your fingers over the soaking wet fabric covering her pussy. You groan - so does she. Her hands are under your skirt as well. She took your panties off some time ago. You couldn't say when. 

She humps your hand and her tits bounce in your face, dizzying your bleary head. Adjusting happens, and her thumb parts your lips before one of her nipples is placed between them. You moan again around her skin as you suck and slobber on her chest. Shutter. Cha-ching. Everything seems far away except for her time moves like syrup, but she cuts through it as though it were water.

Your hands are led back under her skirt. Her thighs squeeze around your hips and they buck against her. She's so wet. So are you. Her fingers entwine in your hair and keep you held against her tit so you can keep sucking on it while she moans in your ear.

Your hands part her thighs more and squeeze them. Her thighs are so beautiful. Every part of her is so beautiful. You bury your face between her tits. You're vaguely aware of all the sweet things she's saying. How pretty you are, how good you are. Your smile widens and warmth flows through you.

She's so soft and wet and warm. Your fingers clumsily make their way to her pussy. She helps. She tells you she'll take care of it. You let her guide you. 

You lose yourself to the high and to her. Time flows past you like water on a riverbed. You don't know how long it's been before you come back to yourself.

Feeling her around you sends fireworks into your vision. It's the best it's ever felt. Your hips buck and you gasp loudly, throwing your head back and bouncing her in your lap. Her cute giggles are bookended by moans. 

Her grinding sets the pace, using you to get off. You're so hard it hurts. You feel like you could cum at any moment, but you can't hold onto that sensation for long enough to actually fall over the edge. She's so perfect and beautiful. You buck into her again without meaning to. It's so easy. She's so wet. Your hands grip her hips and her moaning encourages you in tandem with her words. 

She massages your tit, then flicks at the nipple, making you gasp and thrust and your head fall forward onto her shoulder. You hear her giggle again as she plays with your nipples.

You grab one of her tits and squeeze her thigh with your other hand as you feel her squeeze around you.

Wait. Hand on boob. Hand on thigh. So. Wait. 

Panic rushes through you. Your eyes open. They're so heavy. She's so hot. You see her with her head flung back and her tits bouncing. Her moans are indistinguishable from yours at this point. No. Fuck. You try to mumble out something, but you forget the words before they reach your lips. She kisses you fiercely the moment you open your mouth to speak anyway.

She's so warm and wet and tight. Her clenching alone makes you shiver and gasp. Fuck. It feels better than you imagined. 

You clench your hands against her back, but they feel so slow. It's like you're moving through molasses. Fuck she feels so good. She shudders and moans in your ear. You feel her every tiny movement as she cums on your dick.

“Um gonna.. I'm gunna..” you mumble.

“Hiiii prettyyyy,” she slurs. “You feel sooo good.” Her clumsy fingers scratch just behind your ear. “You feel soooo good for me, pretty.”

Your mind desperately tries to grasp for a single coherent thought, but the tortuous pleasure stands as a wall between you and any other sense. “Wait but I'm-” fuck. What? You try to pull yourself together again as your hips buck against her. “I'm in- fuck you're so hot.”

Her tits hypnotize you again as she bounces. She laughs, and you can feel it fighting against your desperate attempts to hold yourself against your own climax. “Yeaahhh, you just begged soooo nicely.” She giggles more and you writhe. “You’re always sooo convincing.

Always? You gasp and twitch as she plays with your nipples. Your hands clench.

“And you're a girl anyway so it's safe.” She kisses your cheek. “Thass what you said last time.”

You twitch. It's taking everything in you to hold in your orgasm. You whimper. “I'm gonna- but- but-”

“Awww, pretty. It's okay.” She leans against you and purrs in your ear and she strokes your hair. “One more won't hurt.”

Her permission overrides your resistance. A quake runs through your body as the orgasm breaks out of you. Your hands grab her hips and push her down a little. You feel the warmth and wetness all around you as your cum coats her walls. You gasp so loud it sounds painful as your eyes roll back and sparks cover your vision. She gasps and moans happily.

When you come down from the shivers, barely cognizant, your eyes slowly rise to hers. She looks so radiant, so lucid. She drags in a pull from the mostly-gone blunt, then shot-guns it into your mouth. “You're so pretty when you cum for me, baby,” she says.

You hear a distant shutter sound, followed by the familiar cha-ching. A smile forms on your face to match hers, illuminated by her phone screen.

She's already working you up again by the time you're totally gone for the night.

Four weeks later, around the time when she'd schedule your next girls’ night, you get a text from her. It's a mirror selfie of her wearing her lowest-cut skin-tight T-shirt (your unspoken favorite) and her most aggressive push up bra (see above), leaning forward slightly to give full view of the shelf formed by her tits. Her tongue is out in a silly expression, like her normal pictures to you. In most ways it's an average photo of hers, but the one difference sits gingerly placed atop her round breasts - a pregnancy test. Clear Blue. Unused. Her following text says, “Ty for such a good girls’ night!! <3 bout to check how good. You free for another try tonight?”

You thought it was such a good idea, coming out all dressed up in your skimpiest, sexiest little outfit. A skirt so short that the lack of panties was obvious to anyone and everyone, and a top that basically is just a nipple covering -and not a particularly effective one- you thought being so sexy was such a good idea. Now that you can see the harsh predatory look in my eyes you're rethinking the quality of that plan. That uncertainty is quickly replaced by outright fear as I stalk towards you, take a firm handful of your hair and drag you kicking and screaming past everyone else in the room towards the bathroom. You beg for someone, anyone to help you. But they all look at you with pity as your knees scrape against tile and you are pulled through the door and shoved against a urinal.

By the time you turn around from your place on the floor my belt is already halfway off, taking it into my hand with a heavy *smack* of firm leather. I use my booted foot to press down hard on your body to stop you from moving too far. The hard pressure on your bladder and the sights and sounds of the public bathroom really giving you a hard time controlling your own bladder. The belt comes back into your mind as it bites into your wrists attaching you firmly to one of the pipes behind the urinal. Looking up in fear you notice my semi hard cock being pulled from my open jeans. Not even bothing to remove any clothing, pulling things down just enough. You've figured out what's coming at this point, but that doesn't stop the startled gasp as the first drops of liquid make contact. You almost wish I would say something. Anything. Instead, you're just met with a disinterested stare as if I were using an actual urinal. The length of time and just how thoroughly you are soaked let's you know that this was very much planned, the boot on your bladder finally forcing you to lose control. Your own piss joining your thoroughly soaked skirt. Just as the stream is starting to slow and you think maybe this humiliating ordeal is at an end you're met with a firm slap to the face, and then when you don't react how I like another firmer slap.

"Mouth open, stupid urinal."