Stinky Pinky

Indulging in six hours of Californication left me horny.

Watching the charac­ters go through their kinky flirtations, their twists of friendship and love – that reflect my own real-life lessons – opened me up to bring-it-on and let's-fuck-now and I-love-you-madly-you-quirky-pervert.

He made me go to sleep like that.

In the morning he toyed with me in the kitchen, rubbing my clit hard until I squirted on the floor. I thought we'd get into some kinky play and hard-core fucking, but first I wanted a shower. I was looking forward to that freshly scrubbed feeling, and to getting rid of old sweat from a night of vivid dreams. James joined me under the spray and we talked about our plans for a new bathroom with two shower heads.

Soap in hand he said "Bend over girlfriend."

He's going to finger my ass? Yes he did, and while he did it he talked about that "stinky pinky" scene in Californication. But why oh why was my ass so sensitive this morning – in that ouchy-don't-fucking-touch-me kind of way? But I'm a stubborn shit, and there was no way I was going to back away from this naughtiness just because my ass was a bit sore. There was something hot about that, but I couldn't quite identify what it was, and it excited me anyway.

Then he turned me around and squeezed and twisted my nipples before reaching down between my thighs to rub my clit again. Pain revs me up and makes me come hard, and he made me come and squirt at least three times more. By this time his cock was rock hard.

The rush from coming so much was taking me to my knees anyway, which was handy because it put my mouth at just the right level to lick and suck his cock. I love how his cock fills my mouth; I love how he likes me to focus on the head of his cock, with lots of licking and shallow sucking. The occasional bit of deep throat was was just to see how far down I could take him on my own: nearly all of his cock, but not quite. I think he could have pushed me further, but that wasn't something I could have done myself.

He brought me back up by my hair, with the length wrapped around his fingers. He pulled me in to kiss me, carefully controlling each movement and each kiss and each bite; on my mouth, my cheek, my ear, my throat. I don't know what kind of orgasm it was, but there certainly was one blowing my neural circuitry. What was it? Sensory overload? Whatever it was, I loved it.

It was kind of a scene, but not in any way planned: it was just whatever flowed from our usual interactions…

Republished with permission from SapioSlut. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.