grope

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He gets handsy a lot. 

Sometimes, in public. Especially when it’s just the two of us. He pinches my nipple through my shirt, or grabs my butt, or teases my pussy through my panties if I’m hanging around without pants on.

He was tired – more like slap-happy – the evening after he arrived. While I was at the sink, washing off my makeup and brushing my teeth, he kept walking between the bedroom and the bathroom. He’d grab my breasts and play with them, walk back to the bed and lie down, get back up and grope me in the bathroom, go back to the bedroom. 

Eventually, I was laughing so hard I could barely handle a toothbrush in my mouth.

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Naturally the second I open up a tinychat I get sleepy.

Good night, tumblrinas.

Here’s to hoping I have dreams of stuff like this.

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So, Craftsmate just confirmed he can take time off of work to help me move to my new place in under a month.

In addition to having a lot of an easier time setting up my new apartment, I’m sure I can look forward to a lot of this.

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They say what you do at midnight sets the tone for the rest of your year.

Just something to keep in mind.

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Easing out the Kinks, Part Four

In the staircase of his apartment, a place that Penthouse promised was seldom used, he had me unzip my coat and lift up my sweater.

Carefully, he removed the clamps from my nipples one by one. When the first one came off, I barely stifled a scream. I don’t usually wear clamps for an extended time and though there was a somewhat pleasurable aspect of the feeling of the blood rushing back into them, I’m not as much of a masochist as I am a submissive.

He placed them into his pocket and sat down on the stairs. Pulling me into his lap, he stroked my hair and told me that he was proud of me. Once I had my composure back, he pulled me up to my feet and made me perform the endlessly humiliating task of grinding on his knee.

I knew I was wet, but I wasn’t aware of just how aroused I was until I was doing that, hoping nobody decided to forego the elevator and use the stairs. My cheeks were flushed when he asked me if I wanted him to use my pussy. I nodded a little too eagerly.

“Hm,” Penthouse looked me over and smirked. His hands lowered to my hips and he bucked me a bit harder against his thigh. “I think you’re too little for that, sweetheart.”

I pouted and tried to turn away from his grin, attempted to keep my head off of how badly I wanted him, and focused on the sound of the opened belt of my coat, clanging against the stone steps of the emergency stairwell.

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Trapped, Part 3

(Disclaimer: The acts described here, despite their forcefulness and my resistance, were entirely consensual. I had a safe word and I could have stopped the encounter at any time if I did not feel comfortable.)

Switch groped my body like he was claiming it, communicating in chuckles and grunts the vastness of the control he wanted. He sneered at my lace bra and the way it barely shielded my breasts from his hands, barely hid the arousal voiced by my nipples.

“Look at this,” he breathed, pushing my shirt aside further. I gasped and tried to shove him off, attempting to push myself off the wall. He grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked, “I don’t think so, slut. I don’t think that’s how this goes.”

He dragged me over to his bed and shoved me up against the side of it. He bumped me with his body, forcing me to bend over as he started to yank off my clothing. My hands fumbled at my clothes, snatched his hands, frantically tried to protect my body.

Switch pulled the off the last of my clothing, my panties, with a rough tug He grabbed me quickly after, throwing me onto his bed and pushing me down on my stomach. The whole while, I fought feebly.

When I saw the belt already looped around his headboard, ready for my wrists, I swallowed hard. He must have seen me, because he placed his hand on the back of my head and shoved my face down into his sheets. In the darkness, I couldn’t tell what it was, but the texture of his sheets somehow felt different.

“Now, hold still, baby. Don’t want to have to hurt you like this,” he pulled my wrists up toward the headboard. I yanked back theatrically. “I want it to be fun when I hurt you.”