True Sex Stories: Fuck Toy Mode

"'Fuck me,' he says, lying back. So I do. There is plenty of natural lubrication but it has been a while since we have had penetrative sex and I am extra tight. I love that sense of him opening me..."

I didn't feel pretty when I was growing up. Comments by boys made me feel self-conscious about my nose, my hair, my breasts. I was aware that I didn't fit into the classic mould of beauty. That's why I need to feel that he considers me gorgeous: on my own, and in comparison with other women. I feel gorgeous when he is inspired to horniness by my body.

Lying down for a bit of massage, I love feeling his skin on mine as he sits on my buttocks and legs, his hands pushing into my back. I feel him slide back so he's sitting more on my lower legs. He wants access to my ass. Smack! Yep. Then bites on my upper back. Then more smacks.

As we stand up he grabs my hair and pushes me down, down, down to my knees. My mouth is introduced to his hard, attentive cock. I am eager. I find his cock pushing down my throat: I am definitely not in charge – which is hot!

The fingers of his other hand find my nipple and I immediately freak out, thinking that he is going to use his cock as a gag to stop my screams from erupting. But no, it is just a head-fuck. Then he lifts me to my toes by my hair and we walk back to the bed.

"Fuck me," he says, lying back. So I do. There is plenty of natural lubrication but it has been a while since we have had penetrative sex and I am extra tight. I love that sense of him opening me as I start to slide down onto his cock. He makes me pause, and some deliciously teasing shallow fucking ensues. It puts perfect pressure on my g-spot.

He grabs my sides with his strong hands to control the depth and speed of our fuck. It doesn't take me long to feel an orgasm building. I love having the raw energy of the fuck stimulating my cunt while his hands are busy on the rest of me.

I start coming. Once I start it just seems to happen haphazardly. I don't even bother to keep track of when or how many. I just come. And come again. It feels random. I am his fuck toy, his little orgasm machine.

He grabs my body: handfuls of my breasts squeezed tightly. His hands are vices on my upper arms, and he uses them to pull me up and down his cock. The occasional slap to my thighs or stomach or breasts contrasts sharply, and keeps me off balance.

His nails rake my back as he pulls me hard onto him, his cock deep within me. There is something primal and incredibly hot about that. One hand pulls my hip and the other pushes down on my shoulder. I come and I come and I come.

I hear the change in his breath; that small part of my brain that's still working recognises that he is not far from orgasm. But most of me continues in fuck toy mode, riding the pleasures and pain until he comes too.

I love how physical our sex is. I love too that it isn't only physical. In the middle of vigorous sex we pause, and the ever present eye contact holds and connects us on another level. The adventures in our sexual world overlap into the rest of our relationship, but it is our primary connection that makes the fantastic sex possible.

Republished with permission from SapioSlut. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo from Sex and Submission.