Tingles Three
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Tingles Ten free porn video
TINGLES TEN
By Katharine Sexkitten
Have you ever been woken up by having someone suck your cock?
I have. And it`s wonderful.
It was just after five in the morning. I guess I`d fallen asleep at some
point, on Peter`s bed. The last thing I remembered was having an
enormous orgasm from my own hand watching Peter and Michelle make love.
A cum so powerful it knocked me out, just after I`d spewed my own seed
all over the bedsheets.
Watching them fuck.
Watching Peter plow that magnificent cock into her asspussy. Over and
over and over again. The two old lovers moving into different positions
at times, as their mood took them. Not rushed, but rather natural and of
the moment. It was one of the most erotic things I`d ever seen.
But that was hours ago. Now, I was being roused from the most delicious
dream, although exactly what was in it I can`t recall. I just know it
felt like the sexiest dream I`d ever had.
And then it vanished, like a fog suddenly lifting, replaced instead with
a seriously quick ramping up of my tingles. As I drifted back into
consciousness, my tingles began their unpredictable ascent. Burbling and
boiling and rising and roiling within me, soaring and swaying and sending
me into sissy heaven.
And I was awake, and every nerve ending in my body was aware of two
things. The first was that Peter was sucking my cock, deliciously. His
wet mouth was slavering me, making me feel like I was inside the wettest
pussy ever known to humankind.
The second thing I was immediately aware of was that he had two of his
large fingers liberally covered in lube and was pistoning them in and out
of my pussy hole. And I was undulating with his movements. As his
fingers plunged into my cunt I would groove my hips and belly in time,
increasing how far he was inside me. My hands were out to my sides,
clenching and unclenching on the linens as he worked at sucking my soul
straight out of my tiny little pearl sack.
My hairless balls, which he was very gently massaging with his other
hand, had never felt so loved.
The full meal deal, for a cross-dressing slut like me.
It even said so on my ankle bracelet, shaped like a heart.
One side said: CD
The other said SLUT
A few more minutes later, when I felt the imminent countdown to cumming
like never before, and heard that NASA voice in my brain reverberating
``liftoff in ten, nine, eight, seven...`` he let my cock slip from his
lips, to my groaning disappointment, and pulled his fingers out of my
asspussy. Quickly he moved up the bed, grabbing two pillows from behind
me and folding them underneath my lower back. Right at the top of my ass
cheeks.
He was raising me, making the angle better.
For fucking me.
As he shuffled forward, he slathered some more lube on his cock head and
shaft, and then knee-walked himself to me. My legs were up in the air,
and he parted them slightly, to be on either side of his head. My lower
legs folded at the knee, and he grabbed around both of my thighs with his
left hand and arm, holding me up a little.
We were both breathing hard now.
We were staring at each other.
We were staring into each other.
With his right hand, he guided that thick veiny missile of masculinity
into me. Straight into my pussy.
Straight into my soul.
There I was, head and shoulders flat against the mattress, my lower body
raised up, my legs held to his torso, my ankles behind his head, slowly
but methodically being filled with his cock. And like every other time
with Peter, that first level of insertion, when his thickness just
demands that I open widely and quickly, was all-encompassing. There is
nothing else. All five of my senses only have the capacity to
concentrate on being entered, on the overpowering physical assault on
billions of my nerve endings and cell structures. And they all want it,
need it, this monumental and sudden change, this insanely incredible
expansion in order to be filled by his cock.
When something that big begins its journey inside of me, there is no
other world. Just cock and asspussy, and all my focus and concentration
and energy HAS to be there. Otherwise, there would be pain, and I have
learned, seemingly as naturally as I learned to breathe, that I needed
every level of my being on the task at hand. Pain was a necessary evil
sometimes, but limiting its life was key for me.
Any time spent in pain meant time away from the epic pleasure of being
the bottom CD slut that I am. That I`ve come to be. That I`ve come to
understand and know is my true nature.
I am a CD SLUT!
Peter began fucking me good.
His strokes were measured, but hard. He began by pulling his cock out
about three-quarters of the way, and then shoving it back inside me with
force, with determination, making my breath come out in little gasps,
every time he bottomed inside me. His physical movements were playing
cause and effect with me...he moved, and I moved. His out-stroke would
result in me moving my entire pelvic area towards him, seeking his cock
back inside me fully, where it belonged. My pussy would quiver around
his flesh, gripping the slippery skin of his cock to keep it inside and
filling me.
His tempo was delicious. Slower strokes than all-out, but not by much.
He was shafting me, his arms gripping my upper thighs against his body,
his eyes boring into me, a sheen of sweat building on his forehead.
An almost-scary look of seriousness on his face. This was real; this was
heavy, for both of us, emotionally.
This man was fucking me. Make no mistake. There was love behind it, of
course, and it flowed over me and through me and took me to a spiritual
place I`d been learning to love for about ten days now, no question.
But this was fucking. He was bang bang bang fucking me. All out
superpower confrontation kind of fucking. I was his vessel, his cup. He
was filling me, and fulfilling me. The laser-beam of passion in his eyes
could never have been mistaken for respectful prurience. This was
wildness, albeit in the sophisticated and refined king-size bed of a
five-star hotel suite.
Peter was love-fucking me.
Hard. Purposefully. Each thrust a statement, each grunt escaping from
his lips a symphony. Each time he bottomed out in me, his impossibly
thick cock splitting me open like never before, his length touching me
inside in ways that caused a tsunami of rippling throughout my
intestines, throughout my belly, each fuck was new, exciting, riveting,
better than the last, pumping me and pushing me up a mountain, to the
very heavens themselves.
And I was taking it, wanting it, desiring it, needing it. I was vocal
about it too. I just kept murmuring ``fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me``
and he just kept doing it.
I do love it when a man does what you tell him to do! The power of
femininity!!
I realized at one point that I didn`t know where Michelle was, and for
one second my brain told my eyes to scan the room, but that second was
interrupted by the sensual explosion of feelings I felt as he pushed his
cock into my pussy a little harder than all the rest.
Like he was telling me to keep all my focus on him. Don`t worry where
Michelle is.
And he was right. The only place my brain needed to be thinking of was
my own pussy, my own channel, my own love hole. And how his mammoth cock
was sawing in and out of it.
Faster now, than when he started.
He was speeding up.
So were my moans.
Come to think of it, so were his!
And then, out of the blue and totally unexpectedly, we both were
momentarily bathed with a bright white light, gone as fast as it
appeared. We both turned our heads to see from whence it came.
Michelle was standing in the room, near the door, holding up her IPhone
and taking a picture. The look of sheer and utter joy and passion on her
face was instant and obvious when she looked at the image she`d taken.
Whatever she saw, it pleased her. A lot.
She slowly made her way over to the bed, leaning down on to it with one
knee, putting her head near mine. She turned her phone towards me, so I
could see the screen, and what I saw made me shiver in lust.
There was a side-shot of Peter, holding my legs vertically against his
body, my ass up in the air, my head and shoulders on the mattress. His
cock could easily be seen, it`s hugeness jumping off the pixels of the
screen. I couldn`t tell if he was pulling out of me at that moment, or
pushing back into me, from the shot. All I know is that she then turned
the camera so he could see the image, and he must have loved it because
his pace of fucking me ramped up some more.
The man was giving it to me now. The `thud`of his pelvis slamming into
the back of my thighs and ass cheeks became louder, echoing off the walls
and filling the room. The fuck train had left the station a long time
ago, and now the engineer was shovelling coal into the hopper like crazy
and everything was speeding up, chugging faster and faster, his huge cock
pumping into my asshole faster and faster, both of us breathing harder
and harder.
Michelle leaned down and kissed me on the lips, softly, and then twirled
her tongue against mine for a few seconds. Then she raised off my mouth
and looked at me, into my eyes.
``Jessica, it was the thrill of my life to have met you, and gotten to
know you. I really want us to be the best of friends too. We`re so much
alike, sexy sluts should stick together!``
Between my heaving breathing and unexpected moans each time a part of
Peters cock touched me inside in a new and exciting way; I looked her in
the eyes.
``I want that too, Michelle.``
She kissed me again. ``We are sisters, you and I!``
Then she stood up, and kissed Peter. He had to turn his head, and part
of his concentration, but to his credit and to my joy he didn`t slow down
his fucking of my pussy at all. He was still there, rampant and yearning
and powerful.
SLAM SLAM SLAM SLAM SLAM SLAM!
They kissed briefly, and then she backed off, bid us both a good day, and
left the room. A few seconds later I could hear the door to the suite
closing. She was on her way back home, I suppose.
I was on my way to sexual nirvana.
Peter began fucking me even harder now, in earnest. This was serious
shit between us. My lover was going to love me like no one had ever
before. The sweat was now pouring off his face, dripping onto my thighs
and belly. A few drops even found my little cock.
Which was doing something it had never done before. There was a steady
flow of liquid coming out of me now, which surprised me because I wasn`t
even hard. My little soldier was laying on my belly, flaccid. And yet
there was a noticeable stream of almost-clear viscous cum running from my
little slit, my pee hole. It wasn`t a huge flow, but it was non-stop.
Not a geyser or firehose, just a little trickle, like a garden hose with
the valve left slightly open.
And the tingling emanating from the head of my little clitoris, as
Michelle had called it at one point earlier on, was also non-stop. A low
level vibration, maybe three or four out of ten, but constant,
undeterred, vibrant and real.
Peter began fucking me even harder, again. His level of tingles were
starting to sky-rocket, I knew instantly, because mine were racing at the
speed of lust.
The next ten minutes or so became the happiest of blurs. Me babbling
words and sounds while Peter just all-out took me, fucked me, rammed me,
nailed me. I was his, spiritually, emotionally, and physically. I
couldn`t have moved even if I`d wanted to, which there was no fucking way
I wanted to, with his arms gripping my upper thighs so tightly. I was at
his mercy, and happy to be there.
And he wasn`t being merciful. He was pounding me.
WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM.
It got to the point where both of us were babbling out words and
syllables and grunts and groans. Incoherent, stream-of-consciousness
noises. I recall at one point he said the words ``slut`` and
``princess`` fairly close together, and I was thrilled at the idea.
Thrilled with the concept, and that I personified it.
I was a slut princess!
Our journey had to end, of course, and I knew it was close when his tempo
increased again, to a blazing pace of anal love.
He began his all-out fucking of me. The final stretch, the last few
furlongs, the last-second play that wins the championship. No holding
back, like an athlete at the very top of his game, he ramped his already
prize-winning performance up, sending us both into the stratosphere of
sexual pleasure.
My head lolled back, and I took his pounding. His assault on my pussy.
His cock swelled inside me, I could feel it, stretching even more, beyond
the bounds of anything I`d previously known.
I was his slut. His pussy. His cumwhore. I was the receptacle of his
cum, the willing and loving yang to his yin. His woman.
I was his fuck.
The stream of fluid leaking out of my little cock became a torrent, and
somewhere inside me there was a pulsing that accompanied it, which became
a throbbing pounding pulse, which just increased the amount of cum I was
spewing.
And then, when I`d completely lost any control of any part of my body,
when I was taking his thrusts only, when there was nothing else in the
universe except his cock inside my pussy, when all muscle and motor
control had been commandeered by the flesh of his penis, bare and naked,
hard and throbbing, inside my channel, inside my pussy, when I was higher
than I`d ever been and propelled on the wave of orgasmic pleasure that
was imminent, he pulled out of me.
Quickly knee-walking up the bed, his right hand flew down to his cock,
and stroked it. It took me a few seconds to recognize what was going on,
but soon I did, and I raised my head and opened my lipsticked mouth,
ready to receive his cum.
His cum.
His sweet, juicy, delicious, baby-breeding cum.
It took him only a few strokes of his cock, and then he exploded. And I
mean exploded!
I`d never seen that much cum erupt out of a cock before, in real life or
in porn. It was like a sudden volcano, just blasting out of his cock
head, like pushing a gallon of white creamy liquid through a straw in
less than a second. BOOM!
Most of it missed my open mouth, my tongue extended searching and wanting
it. The vast majority of his load went all over my face, and into the
hair of my wig.
And the feral sound that came from deep inside his body was unlike any
I`d ever heard before either. It was as if his chest and torso was a
giant metal drum, like in the orchestra, and someone had just pounded it
with a hard mallet. The sound was deep and loud and profound, and
probably woke people up on all the other floors of the hotel.
His moan touched me, right down to my core. To my DNA.
It was the sound of masculine release. Total uninhibited primal release.
As if his heart stopped, and every muscle and tendon and bone and cell in
his body had all screamed out at once, in a plaintive and earth-
shattering way.
It was the sound of orgasm.
Sacred, blessed, orgasm.
Mine was also mind-blowing, but his noises were louder than mine,
drowning me out, making it seem like his was the only response that
counted.
But nothing could have been farther from the truth.
I was in bliss. My pussy hole was gaping, clenching over and over at the
cock that wasn`t it anymore. As if somehow it could magically be filled
again.
My man was breathing as if he`d just run a marathon. His face was an
impressionist painting by Monet, swirls of moving emotion, shades of
pleasure ebbing and flowing.
My cum was all over me, rolling off the curves of my belly and body,
finding their way by gravity to the sheets under us.
My face was dripping with his cum. My tongue was extending as far out of
my mouth as it could, both sides, lapping up every drop I could find. My
eyes were closed as I concentrated on the task, But they shot open when I
felt his finger on my skin, gathering up his cum, and my lips closed
around that finger every time he offered it to me, sucking at it,
savouring the taste of him, swirling his jism in my mouth and bathing my
taste buds in the deliciousness.
Like a fine wine, I enjoyed his semen. YUM!
We cuddled again, but only briefly. He had a breakfast meeting with some
other members of the Board, and so sadly I needed to give him the time to
get ready for his day. He once again offered to escort me back to my
room, like the respectful lover he is, but I once again declined.
I wanted to do the slut walk again, all on my own.
When he`d closed the door to his suite, I turned and began my walk, my
hips swaying again, made so much easier by the real physical sensations I
was feeling from his fucking of me. My pussy was still gaping, and that
made my ass move differently than normal, which made my slut walk even
more feminine.
OH MY GOD I LOVE MY LIFE NOW!
As I started making my way back to my own suite, all of a sudden out of
nowhere my tingles ramped up. Like, seriously. Not there one second,
the next going up like an earthquake tremor.
It made me stop for a moment. I looked back, but Peter hadn`t opened his
door. For a second I wondered if Brad was around. He was supposed to
have flown in late last night, so perhaps he was in a room on this floor.
But I couldn`t isolate the feeling, so I kept walking.
As I did, the door down the hall next to mine opened up, and a woman came
out, turning as people do to make sure her door was closed. She`d not
seen me to that point.
Which was interesting, because in the brief instant that I`d seen her, I
was pretty sure I knew who it was.
She was Anne, or Anna, or maybe Annie, and she was from a different
branch of the company, on the National team as well. We`d met in
meetings yesterday.
When I was dressed in boy mode. Albeit with lingerie underneath.
But now I was in full feminine slut mode. And I knew I had that glow,
that just-fucked like a beast glow that people have after a particularly
good session. I knew that I looked exactly like what I was.
A gurly slut, making her way back to her place, after spending the night
with a man, after spending time getting fucked, multiple times if she`s
lucky. My hair was tousled, my skirt and blouse disheveled, my makeup
slightly blurred and not right from all the contact.
Contact while being fucked. Like a slut.
So for a brief moment I considered turning away, or stopping altogether.
And then the next brief moment I spent admonishing myself, chastising my
silly behavior.
That was the reaction of someone who cares what society thinks. That was
the sign of shame, built into us by prurient religiousness and unnatural
thinking.
The next second saw me return to normal. My new normal.
I walked towards her, my head held high, the sway in my hips huge and
perhaps slightly exaggerated.
I am Jessica Kurva.
I am Jessica Slut.
She was wearing grey Lulu Lemon workout pants, tight of course, and
running shoes with those little white socks women wear. On top she had a
similar-coloured sports bra on, and a large white towel hanging on one
shoulder. Her key card in her hand, she was obviously on her way to the
hotel gym, for a workout, before her busy day began.
She looked up and saw me, instantly. And then I watched all her thoughts
play out on her face, as I got closer.
The first second was recognition of a woman, doing the slut walk. I
could tell. The corners of her lips moved up, into a slight smile. She
knew it. Perhaps she`d even done it herself a few times.
The second second I could see doubt enter into her mind. She was sort of
seeing someone she mighta sorta know, but then her brain was telling her
no, that can`t be right.
The third second as I got closer to her came the wavering doubt thing.
It was like she knew me, but thought she didn`t, but then did, but it
wasn`t right, but darn it she did know me, and yet all the visual data
wasn`t working.
As she moved slowly to the elevators and I walked towards my suite we got
closer, and the doubts I had been seeing erased themselves. In the
fourth or the fifth second she realized exactly who I was, and that she
knew me.
Except she didn`t know me like this.
I continued to walk, swaying my hips, one high-heeled shoe in front of
the other, and I kept staring at her. Challenging her, I suppose.
She smiled. ``Good night?`` she asked, already knowing the answer.
``A great night!`` I replied.
She pushed the button to call the elevator and I walked by her, our
shoulders almost touching. My tingles were loud and proud now, and I
knew it was because deep down she was also a sexual and sensual person,
and we were reacting to each other. She was one of us! I didn`t quite
know who us were, but I could sense it strongly that this woman was a
full-fledged member.
When I got past her I heard her say ``pssst``, so I turned to look at
her. She brought her hand up and used a finger to wipe her skin, next to
her mouth, like she had a small piece of food there. I wasn`t sure what
she was doing, until she bumped her jaw at me, as if she was saying `no,
not me, you`.
So I raised my hand, and with the end of my finger daubed at the skin on
the left side of my mouth. She nudged her head to her left, and my
right.
So I daubed my finger on the right side of my mouth. And felt something.
A very wet something.
I gathered whatever it was on my finger and brought it up to look at. It
was mostly clear, perhaps a little bit cloudy, and oozy.
Peter`s cum.
My eyes snapped up and over to her. The grin on her face was from ear to
ear, and a blind man couldn`t miss the fact that her nipples were as hard
as rock inside her sports bra. You could cut glass with how hard they
were.
Making sure my eyes never left hers, I brought my finger to my mouth.
Then I snaked the tip of my tongue out and tasted the cream, audibly
moaning a little. For her. Stating clearly and without shame that I was
the happiest gurl in the world to be tasting cum.
Again.
Her head nodded up and down.
I put my finger into my mouth, closed my lips, and began sucking the
giant blob of cum, slowly taking it onto the skin of my tongue, allowing
it to move and ripple and squirm all over the millions of taste buds
there, tilting my head back a little to let it make its natural way into
my throat and down into my tummy.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened, and she moved to go inside. I
got one last look at those amazing nipples again, and if anything they
were harder than before. They were bigger than the push buttons on my
dad`s old car stereo.
``See ya,`` was all she said, and then she was gone.
I slid my key card into the slot and quietly slipped into my suite.
The tingles she was giving out were abating now, as the elevator took her
down and away from me, but I thought it really cool that I would have
someone who gave off such a high level of tingles right next door to me.
Someone who was in every way a beautiful woman. A real one. And I
thought it might be cool to spend some time with her.
Not for sex, of course.
For makeup tips and clothes shopping, maybe.
But, c`mon, get real.
Not for sex.
That would have been the old me. The male me. That person no longer
exists. For me, now, considering how many changes I`ve been through
since Brad`s party, since discovering Jessica within me, since losing my
gay virginity, both orally and anally, since realizing my true nature as
a feminine, sensual and sexual slut, there was only one kind of sex I
wanted.
And despite all its complexities and variations, it still must always
involve one very important thing. One thing my sexy neighbour can`t
possibly give me.
Cock.
Cock. It takes my natural low-level tingles, throbbing all day every
day, and makes them blossom. Makes them rocket. Makes them soar, makes
them fly.
Cock.
I LOVE MY LIFE. I LOVE MY TINGLES.
The end.
Ofelia
- 29.10.2022
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