Mouthfuck in a Mercedes

God, I love experiences like tonight. A party in the Hamptons and I brought Joseph. He’s new.

I met him on Instagram and for some reason I let it slip giving him my Skype name. It turned into going to a Hamptons Party that he got me into.

When I met him at the pool, I sucked his cock till he moaned out loud and came down my throat. He went back to his table and sat next to his girlfriend while I had the taste of his sticky cum on my tongue.

Tonight he came with me to another party I was invited to. We drove in his vintage Mercedes. He grabbed my hair and made me sick his cock. I started to use my hand and he yelled that he didn’t want a hard job; to use my mouth like the last time. My mind was racing to Him and this cock and my life. And suddenly he pushed his cock so hard to the back of my throat that I gagged. He did it over and over again. I felt like a used slut that he was paying to do whatever he wanted. He used my mouth so hard till he came; pushing me onto him till I couldn’t breathe.

At the party I got lots of attention. Photos taken, drinks bought for me and men just wanting to be around me. It felt so amazing. Really! Not ego just pure joy!

They all loved the dress I had on. I wore it for Him. I took pix before I left. I only said I was going to a party. He said to have fun, and something in that  felt a permission to do exactly as He said.

Funny how the night started out meeting Joseph at his rental house. As I opened my car door he looked at me and asked what I was wearing. He scowled and said that ‘surely I had something else to wear’. I felt so cheap and slutty. There was tinge of feeling ashamed, too. Like your father saying you’re not going out like that.

At the party I kept getting compliments on the dress and asked them to tell Joseph. He didn’t find me humorous. He kept saying I left the rest of the dress at home.

I just rolled in the sexual attention tonight. The photographer was a friend of Joseph’s, it turned out. So, when the photographer walked me to the bathroom, I thanked him by rubbing his cock over his pants.

Later I had fun telling that to Joseph. I knew he would be mad. He punished me on the way back to his house by torturing my tits after ripping my top down. Easy access He always says.

When we got back to his house he was so rough with me. I felt raped by his fingers. He pulled my hair so hard while he was telling me all I was going to do for him. Pushing me over on my belly, pinning my hands behind my back, he finger fucked my pussy so hard that I squirt all over his rental bed covers.

I was in shock how rough he was being with me. I had to listen. I wanted to. He knows I’m not his. He knows my feelings. Yet for tonight I listened. I let him control me. Hurt me. Scold me for being such a slut.

While it was happening I imagined what He would be like. Would His touch be rough like this or harder? What would he have me do? I can’t help thinking about Him, especially with someone who took control like this.

I’m in my car writing this before I go home. My whole body is shaking. Part from the experience and part from the blow I did. I brought a little in some tinfoil from home that hubby left me. It made all the playing so intense.

Better head back and straighten up. Why is it nothing makes me feel more alive than wild rough sex? He was right: it’s not sex to me unless it hurts my pussy and my mouth and my ass. He’s always right.


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