Playing With Fire 5

We did not know each other but he seemed to know exactly what I thought about. He seemed to have known instinctively what I wanted, what I needed. It doesn't matter how we crossed paths. It only matters that we did.

I have always had these thoughts. That I wanted to be spanked, that I wanted to be told what to do and how to do it. I wanted a man, a particular kind of man, to "handle" me. I wanted someone who would control me sexually, for just a little while. In my 30's, not even my soon to be ex-husband had known about this fantasy I had.

I never really saw his face. But I still recall his voice. Sexy, gentle almost, and yet authoritative.

When we spoke on the phone the conversation would be light one moment and then in the next he'd ask me if I could follow instructions and I'd answer this man, this stranger, almost as if I were a little girl..."yes".... He'd ask me if I wanted him to make me his slut and I'd tell him "yes" again as I felt my pussy get wet at just the words he spoke to me with that damn voice.

He told me that he was coming over Saturday night.

I was to be sitting at my kitchen table, by candle light, with a wooden spoon and my vibrator.

He had walked in my front door 5 minutes early and I was just standing there at the table (I had 5 minutes!) in the candle light, wearing black slacks (no panties), high-heeled ankle boots and a sheer black blouse you could see straight through. I crushed out my cigarette.

I had worn no bra, as instructed, with the blouse unbuttoned to the third button. I kind of thought I might have looked sexy in a classy sort of way but in no time he'd walked up behind me, cupping one hand around my breast as the other one roamed across my ass, my hips, my pussy. As he pulled my hair back and kissed and licked my neck, I was reduced to nothing more than his latest slut. And so far, I liked it.

He wasted no time unzipping my pants and unbuttoning the rest of my blouse. I stood there, with my pants falling down my legs, enjoying the feel of his strong hands all over my body.I could see my reflection in the window. What a tramp I had become.

He turned me around to face him, this man who knew what I wanted, and then he told me to bend over my own kitchen table. With the first smack of his hand against my ass, my pussy juices began to run. YES!

Then he started talking to me, telling me how he was going to fuck me. He took that wooden spoon and spanked my ass several times. How can something that hurts so bad make my pussy so wet?

I did not have time to think up the answer before he turned me to face him and told me to suck his cock. His cock was huge but I took it all into my mouth. He told me to lick his balls. I understood by then that I had to be a good girl so I did as I was told. I knelt there in my boots, with my pants off and my blouse wide open and I sucked this strangers cock in the middle of my kitchen.

He told me to walk to the couch and lay back. I barely got there before his head was buried between my legs licking my pussy so thoroughly that I thought I might cum within the first couple of minutes. He was so good! How the hell can he know just how to lick my clit, just when to stiffen his tongue, just when to flatten it out and lick my pussy lips? How can he know that?!

He told me he was going to fuck me and he put that huge cock inside my pussy. Instinctively my body began to move. He told me to stop. That's not an easy thing to do..and I heard my own voice cry out.

He began to fuck me then, slowly, just enough to make me want it more, then he made me stand up and he walked me over to my woodstove and told me to grab it. He slid his hand around and began to rub my clit and I had an absolutely magnificent orgasm at just about the time he slammed his cock into me so hard while he smacked my ass making me come ever so close to another orgasm and then he STOPPED.

In frustration I turned to him as I stomped my heel into the floor. He told me to lick my pussy off his cock and balls. He said I have a good mouth...

He told me to get my vibrator off the table and he sat down on my love seat. He let me climb on top of him. In the candle light we made eye contact as I sat there with his cock buried in my pussy.

I kissed him. He was a good kisser. He said he'd been waiting for a girl like me for a long time. I was not so sure about that. He's a player. He likes to fuck women and he's fucked a lot, I think. There was no need to try to make me think I was special. I wanted him to fuck me and he wanted to fuck. Mission accomplished.

I started to ride up and down on his cock slowly at first. Then it became more feverish. Oh it felt so damn good! I swear his cock reached places in me never before touched. We never touched the vibrator...but it's true what they say...a hard man is good to find....

He made me stop and took me back to the kitchen table and made me sit in the chair and suck his cock again. Then he leaned me back across the table, spanked me, slammed that cock into me one more time and wrapped his fingers up in my hair pulling my head back while he fucked me until the table was halfway across the floor and he came all over my back.

The sheer amount was astounding. What an amazing man. It was stunning, shocking, exciting, gratifying and frightening all at the same time.

He told me to go clean myself up.

When I walked back out of the bathroom he was dressed.

Leaving. Hmmm.... What do you do? Shake hands and say "nice to meet you, thanks for having me"???

I realized I really didn't know how this "game" worked...

He left. He just walked off into the darkness.

I started to feel bad.

Sometimes, I wonder if he's out there. I wouldn't know him if I passed him on the street. Unless he spoke. I won't ever forget his voice.

The thought of him still makes me wet but it also makes me wonder. It's weird the things I wonder. But mostly, I just wonder if he is loved.

I hope so.