(Disclaimer: This is purely fiction.)

“Gypsy, you have a client who is wanting you for 24 hours. He will send the itinerary over in a few hours. I will fax it to you.”

Dave didn’t even look up from his food. He lost himself in a bowl of pasta, when I left, a dribble of the sauce dripping down his chin. It was a little repulsive. When you work in an industry filled with beautiful people, you don’t get excited anymore. The necessities of life become prevalent.

I arrived home as the fax came through. I ignored it for a moment. The shower was more of what I needed. The way the water kissed over my flesh forced me to linger a bit, fantasize as my fingers caressed over my soft folds. Pushing the digits inside, the shrill of the phone stopped my exploration. I wouldn’t finish now, but later, this need would be sedate.

Stopped by a telemarketer had to be the icing on the cake. Selling home security, I tried five times to discourage them, but had to hang up in self-defense. It was at that time when I started reading over the fax. Shocked would be an understatement.

The car will arrive at 8 pm, please pack for a three-day stay, though your only needed for 24 hours. Your flight leaves at 10 pm, and you will arrive in Los Vegas by dawn. The limo driver will ask for the non-disclosure. I assume you understand the need for discretion at all times. Please be aware that you will not be staying at my house. I have obtained a hotel room for you.

You will arrive at the hotel for breakfast. Please eat, shower, and nap. At 7 pm you will need to be at my home for a production release party. Please dress in formal attire.

The next 12 hours were a blur. I had signed the non-disclosure and gave it to the driver. Flown to Vegas, and now I was standing in the client’s home’s entryway. I can’t mention his name, but wow, this was earth-shattering.
“He’s expecting you. The other guests have arrived, but you are to meet him in the office. If you will follow me!”

Straight to the point, the Butler spoke in a heavy British accent. He was about 5o, grey hair, and slender. He looked like he could have fallen from a James Bond movie and landed right here. In my head, I had named him Jeeves.
“Gypsy, so nice to see you. I trust you got everything you needed?”

In awe, my head shook a little. I was standing in the same room as this man whom I had fantasized about so often. His voice was that of an angel, but I knew he was no saint. He was a pure devil. All the tabloids confirmed he was one of the biggest assholes in Hollywood. Right now, though, he was perfect. Biting down on my bottom lip, I needed to pull myself together. This was no way for a grown woman to behave.

“Of course. The flight was nice, and the room, well, it’s beautiful.”

After a 3 second internal fight with my common sense, I was back. There is no possible way that I want to be a star gazing little fool. He enlightened me about the party going on. It was a new album release. Living the life he did, it wasn’t profitable for him to settle with one woman. Since he wanted sex later, I was a sure thing.

As the clean crew worked diligently on the house, the two of us retired to the pool. Clothing dropping on the cement patio. I love sex in the water. Shocked, he was well endowed. So much so that I gasped a bit, giving him the ego boost he was seeking. Every man likes to know he can pleasure a woman. He would please me repeatedly with that monster cock.

“Lay back on the edge of the pool. I haven’t had a pussy I wanted to eat in years. Yours is magnificent.”

I swear I blushed. I have never had my pussy complimented like that before. Doing as told, I laid the towel on the concrete. My legs remained in the water as he spread me open. How can you prepare for this? He was, well, who he was, and I was a whore. Starting at my toes, he suckled each digit into his mouth, his tongue tracing them in a seductive dance. I will admit that I love this. It’s erotic the way he played each little piggy. He was making love to the perfectly manicured little tootsies. He sucked each one as though it was my clit, and he was trying to make me cum. Honestly, I almost did a few times.

One foot, and then the other, his mouth worked its way up to my heated center. By now, there was a delicate trickle of liquid love trailing from my pussy. He blew softly, his air enveloped my wet lips, sending shivers up and down my spine. Between the night air, and his mouth, I was on the edge of explosion. It was too soon to come. I didn’t want to ruin this. A swirl of his tongue over my clit, I had to reach down and grab the pool’s edge to stop myself from riding his face. I’m sure he would like it, but I didn’t know his boundaries yet.

“Oh fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

Whimpering, my voice called out like a beacon. Being a vocal lover, I know that most men love when a woman encourages them. The actions of his tongue proved that to be true. Dividing my slit with the tip of his oral muscle, my clit throbbed the moment he wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves. My shaking couldn’t be sedated. The talents of his oral skills had a flood of fluids dripping down my crack, pooling beneath my ass.

A hand crept down my body, tangling in his hair, I fed him my sweet entrance, lost each time his tongue dipped into my tiny pink rim. A circle drawn around my precious little peach, I heard him sucking the sweetness from my honeycomb. He was slurping from the fountain, my pussy squirting into his mouth. I drenched his face with my sweet, liquid love. Cumming was a surprise. I had the moment he pushed the tip inside of me. The tip of his tongue that is. His dick would come soon, but right now, the waves of rapture cascaded through my veins, and heaven found.

The post Adult Bedtime Story time with Gypsy appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Enjoy my little creative story.

Pacing the floors of her home, she was bored out of her mind. At 18, she should be out partying with kids her age, but there was something different about this one. She needed things that a man her age could never provide. Maybe that’s why she preferred them all over 35 years of age. So much time passed since she was with a man. She needed to know she could still get one for some reason. Well, if she wanted one. A few hours of fun was all she needed to get her mind to where she needed.

Thumbing through her phone, the name that stood out was that of a local strip club. One where eighteen was legal, and they had open stage night every Tuesday. Tonight, she would mindfuck someone stranger into oblivion. That was the goal, at least.

Two hours later, the five-foot-ten in blond found herself in the middle of the stage, searching for her victim. She would call him that because by no means would she fuck him tonight. Her pussy saved for a special guest, and there were no VIP’s in sight.

Music blaring, she wore nothing but a pair of red panties, stocking with lace trim, and a thin ribbon around her neck. Though tied in a bow, she was no one’s gift tonight. One more item accented her outfit of choice. A pair of 4 inches spiked red stilettos. Not her normal expensive ones. These would serve one purpose tonight. They were for attention only.

In the center of the stage, a chair sat, waiting. Calling a guy in the front row on stage, she smirked when she noticed the bulge in his jeans. If that were any indication of what he was packing, it would take all she had not to give in to temptations. She pointed to the chair. No words were needed. Tonight she was going to use him for a prop in her little act of self-pleasure.

The music changed, the song was seductive and enticing. As she moved in for the kill, her hips swayed to the beat of the song, never missing a note. Stopping as she approached, her hands slid slowly up her sides, cupping her breasts’ underside in each palm. Not big, nor small, she was a perfect handful. As her tongue traced her bottom lip, she tightened the grip on her tits, pulling forward to grasp her perky nipples between her thumb and forefinger, twisting, yanking, and finally releasing them back with a bounce. She wouldn’t stop till the naturally pink buds changed to a constricted shade of red, her breath coming in shallow pants. The look on his face said it all. This man was mesmerized by the show in front of him.

“Fuck,” he growled.

No, there was no fucking tonight. Just a little tease. She loved being a tease, straddling the male’s lap, one leg on either side. A long grind would start the show. She slid a hand to the back of his neck, yanking his face forward, planting his lips between her tits. With a whisper, she held him there, grinning, “tongue fuck my tits!” Her head dropped back as he rolled his tongue up and down her cleavage, slapping him in the back of the head when he tried to attach to her nipple. “Do it again, and we’re done,” she warned. Tonight was not his show. It was hers. Long licks over her freckled breast, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth for a satisfying approval. His dick strained in his pants as she pushed down repeatedly on the crotch of his pants. Her panties saturated now with her lust.

She yanked his head back once again, looking into his eyes, and her free hand forced three fingers into his mouth, fucking over his tongue with slender digits. “That’s a good boy. Get them nice and wet,” she whispered. Pulling her hand out, she smirked as the next place they landed was down her panties, fingers curled, and pushed into the tight walls of her gripping cunt. Slowly, her fingers pushed to break the invisible seal. A loud guttural moan came from deep within. Each slide of her fingers forced her to contract her walls around them. Juices were pouring out to soak the silk panties she wore, staining his pants with her filth.

“Fuck, fuck my cunt,” she growled. The only one fucking her was her. Each time she pushed down on his hard dick, the jeans forced her fingers in deeper, stretching her walls as the liquid sloshed out and around the tips of her fingers.

His eyes widened, bucking his hips up to meet her growing demands, she screamed out as the first orgasm ripped through her body like waves of boiling lava. Each ripple was forcing her to cry like a wanton little whore. She was, though—a little whore who sought pleasure in only herself.

Satisfied, she pulled her fingers from her panties, forcing them down his throat. That was his payment for the night. He would be allowed to taste what he could never touch. It seems like a fair trade.

She slipped from his lap, laughing at the sight. He was covered in her orgasm and would be left wanting for his own. She would leave him to handle his problem on his own. Remember, there was no VIP’s here tonight.

The post VIP – Leave Them Horny and Begging appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

The moment I heard the news, I knew what I needed to do.

It’s cookie season and it was time to brush off the old uniform. Sure, it fits a little tighter now, but that will just increase the sales of those beloved mint delights. They were always my favorite, but how many men out there would be willing to buy them from me? A lot is what I counted on.

I’ve noticed the dirty looks the women in my neighborhood have given me lately. The more the men look, the angrier their wives become. Little do they know, I am not the bitch to play with. I will fuck your husband and kick the dog on the way out. Ask Debbie across the street. She now knows for a fact that her husband is a real cookie monster.

I watched her as she left. She always hits the gym after the kids go to school. Her husband works nights, so he would be asleep on the couch with his hand on his dick. Maybe he’s protecting it from that viper bitch. She’s not ugly, but that smile will make a man shrivel and die. It’s as phony as those tits protruding from her chest.

I wouldn’t consider myself stunning, but I have one thing most don’t. Confidence. A man isn’t safe around the neighborhood succubus. One last look in the mirror at my uniform and I let out a demonic laugh. God! This poor man will be a shell when the bitch comes home. Drained, drooling, and damaged beyond repair.

First rule of being married. Do not allow another woman in the house even if she has a delicious box of cookies. You will never know if their a succubus until you find your balls empty and begging for mercy. You see, I can’t get enough. You may cum once, but I demand multiple explosions. I am a greedy bitch when it comes to another woman’s man.

Knocking on the front door the moment her car was out of sight, the man of the house grumbled and groaned until he opened the door.

“Excuse me, Sir, but your wife sent me over to sell you some cookies,” I laughed.

He didn’t bother inviting me in. Honestly, he didn’t need to. I pushed past the man, stopping only to call his forward with the use of my finger. A quick curl brought him to sit on the couch, his mouth wide open in complete awe.

As his eye drank in every single inch, I fought the urge to laugh, but lost it in the end. It was the panic of his furrowed brows that did it.

“Shhh, not then, I have to sell all my cookies to get a new badge. You see, I want to be the biggest whore on the block for the third year in a row. So, you’ll buy them all and devour my pussy between each bite. Now be a good boy for me,” cackling, the laughter flowed so easy with this one.

My skirt already short, I pulled the front up showing him the sheer panties beneath. He salivated a dribble of fluid from the corners of his mouth, my hand pulling him forward. I know the aromatic beauty of my pussy, pushing his face against the soft fabric. His breath warm and my panties wet. The combination sent wicked chills through my body. I don’t allow much to affect me, but barrowing a husband caught me by surprise.

“My wife,” he groaned.

“Fuck your wife. Wait, fuck a real pussy instead. Fuck me,” laughing.

Grabbing his hands, I pulled him up, almost dragging him to the bedroom. If I fuck him, I will do it right. The cum stain his wife finds on the bed won’t be hers, it will be mine.

Did I fuck him? What do you think?

The post Succubus Girl Scout With Intoxicating Cookies appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

“How the hell did I end up here?”

Gypsy, 32, had a death wish of sorts. A lover of all things spooky, when she found the flyer at her work for a tour of cemeteries, she was instantly excited. So much so that her nipples strained against the silk blouse she wore. Placing her arm over the front of her shirt, it was too late.

“So you going to that?” Bob asked.

Bob was the office hound. He would fuck anything that let him and had many times over. Most of the girls in the office stayed as far away from him as they could. The only good thing about Bob was that his dick was always hard. If you needed a quick relief, he was the one guy you wished never had a big mouth after you fucked. Gypsy knew better after her friend Sasha was on the receiving end of one of his wild office sex stories. Sure, she did it but never realized that he would tell everyone, including her boss. After a write-up, lecture, and a blow job, she kept her job.

Holding tight to the paper, Gypsy shook her head, knowing she was already excited about the spooky night in the cemetery. Salem had some of the nicest ones, and yet, all of them claimed to hold the bodies of burned witches and other creatures or the night. The few times she ventured into one, it was daylight, and she was never alone. According to the flyer, each person was to walk in alone, and they would wait five minutes before the next.

“I can’t wait. I love this kind of stuff. Well, I got to go. Sorry Bob, but I need to work,” Gypsy said, walking away quickly.

The following Friday, standing at the gate of the most notorious cemetery in Salem, Massachusetts, Vanessa waited with the crowd for the attraction to open. Small talk back and forth, the one person she noticed missing was Bob, the office horn dog. She was sure he would show up but hoped she was long gone before he was. Seeing that man after hours wasn’t anything she wanted.

“Gypsy, you’re next. Remember to stay on the path, follow the signs, and oh yeah, don’t believe anything you see. The ghost’s come here to make you lose your mind,” he laughed. The man was none other than the CEO of the company she worked for and a well-known practical joker. For a man in his 40’s, he loved to play little mind-twisting games.

“HAHA, I will make sure to bring one back to work with me next week,” she said, her lashes batting at the affluent male. He was a catch, and she wanted to be the cat to lure him closer.

As she stood at the open gate looking down at herself, Gypsy was glad that she wore a simple pair of jeans, a red hoodie, and her favorite pair of running shoes. If she needed to outrun the spirit world, at least, she was dressed for it.

The old burying point, otherwise known as the charter street cemetery, was the haunt location. As Gypsy walked down the pebble path, she noticed the age of the graves the first time. Back then, they believed in marking the graves with sizeable above ground stones. Most of them in perfect shape. There was the very few with small crumbling age spots. Most of these people were buried back when you did not forget the dead.

“Gypsy,” called the wind.

Stopping, the young woman looked around, her body covering with chills. The place was finally starting to get to her. Twenty minutes in, she had never felt so alone in her entire life.

“Hello? Whose out there? This isn’t funny,” she whispered,” shaking, she wrapped her arms around herself.

Rusting from behind one of the oldest graves in the place sent Gypsy in a tailspin as she took no chances, running into an ancient mausoleum on a small hill. Stopping at the door, her heels digging into the earth, the last thing she wanted was to make that first step inside. Phantom, heavy breathing behind her, opened the door and forced her inside the small brick building.

Pushing her body back into a small alcove, the shadow of whoever called to her filled the entire opening to the room.

“Gypsy, come out and play with me,” called the voice.

That was the first time she realized who it was. Her boss and CEO had followed her through the cemetery to scare her. No wonder he was the one at the gate.

Sliding out of the hole she was tucked away in, Gypsy couldn’t help but laugh the moment she saw a man standing in a wolf mask, his hands reached out for her.

“Oh, has the giant nasty wolf monster chased the little girl into the darkroom? Are those teeth going to eat me?” she taunted.

Pulling her forward, that man in the mask groped at her clothing, ripping her pants down in a rushed manner. He took her red silk panties along for the ride.

“Oh fuck, are you going to devour me now, Mr. Wolfie?” Gypsy asked.

As he pushed her to the ground, the monster looked down with a sinister growl. Pulling his zipper down, pulling out the biggest cock she had ever seen, he took no time to crawl between her legs. He was not only going to fuck her, but he was soiling hallowed ground. One thrust, and he forced that monster dick inside of her dripping pussy, slamming balls deep inside the young woman. His grunts animalistic, he pounded through her slippery wet pussy walls with a force that inched her towards one to the crypts, bracing her body so she couldn’t escape. Not that she was trying to go anywhere. Fucking her boss was something she always wanted.

“Oh fuck, god damn, fuck me harder, wolfman,” she cried.

As he pulled back to the head each time, the monster slammed deeper into her puffy lips, stretching them open to mold to his dick. He was insane with lust, and she wanted nothing more than to cum all over his cock before someone found them.

Deep grunts, the monster forced his way in, both of them crying out in a painful cry of lust. Anyone walking by would think it was sound effects for the scary event.

Both of them shaking, the monster in the wolf mask pulled back, pulling his pants up before standing over the cum soaked woman. With an evil cackle of laughter, he pulled the mask off, tossing it onto the well-used woman on the ground.

“You wouldn’t fuck me in the office, but now I know your kink. Scare the shit out of you, and your panties come off,” Bob said, walking out with a new story to tell the office on Monday morning.

The post Monsters Exist In The Filthy Mind appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Reading erotica stories can offer a range of benefits beyond mere titillation. Here are some reasons why engaging with this genre can be beneficial:

1. Exploration of Fantasies: Erotic stories provide a safe space for readers to explore their fantasies and desires without judgment. They offer a way to delve into different scenarios and kinks that one may not feel comfortable exploring in real life. By experiencing these fantasies vicariously through literature, individuals can gain insight into their own sexual preferences and identities.
2. Enhanced Imagination: Erotic stories often stimulate the imagination with vivid descriptions of sensual encounters. Readers are transported to different worlds and situations, allowing them to engage their creativity and imagination in ways that may not be possible with other forms of literature.
3. Increased Sexual Knowledge: Reading erotic stories can be educational, providing insights into various aspects of sexuality, intimacy, and relationships. Through the depiction of different sexual experiences and dynamics, readers can learn about new techniques, perspectives, and even sexual health practices.
4. Stress Relief and Relaxation: Like any form of literature, reading erotica can be a form of escapism. Engaging with erotic stories can provide a temporary reprieve from the stresses of everyday life, allowing readers to relax and unwind as they immerse themselves in a world of sensuality and pleasure.
5. Improved Intimacy: For couples, reading erotic stories together can be a way to enhance intimacy and communication in their relationship. Sharing fantasies and discussing the themes and scenarios depicted in the stories can lead to deeper connections and a better understanding of each other’s desires.
6. Empowerment and Liberation: Erotic literature, especially when written from diverse perspectives, can empower readers by validating their desires and identities. It can help individuals feel more comfortable with their sexuality and encourage them to embrace their desires without shame or stigma.
7. Cultural and Literary Appreciation: Erotica has a rich literary history, with works ranging from ancient texts to contemporary literature. Engaging with erotic stories allows readers to appreciate the cultural and artistic significance of the genre, exploring themes of desire, passion, and human nature through a literary lens.

In conclusion, reading erotic stories can offer a range of benefits, from exploration and education to relaxation and empowerment. As with any form of literature, the enjoyment and benefits derived from erotica are subjective and vary from person to person.

READING EROTICA VS WATCHING PORN

Watching erotic movies can provide a range of potential benefits, although these should be approached with caution and balanced against any potential drawbacks. Here are some potential advantages:

1. Exploration of Sexual Fantasies: Erotic movies can serve as a safe and private space for individuals to explore their sexual fantasies. This exploration can enhance self-awareness and contribute to a healthier understanding of one’s desires and preferences.
2. Increased Sexual Arousal: Erotic films are designed to stimulate arousal, which can be beneficial for individuals seeking to enhance their libido or reignite sexual passion within a relationship. This heightened arousal can lead to improved sexual satisfaction and intimacy.
3. Education and Learning: Some erotic movies depict various sexual techniques, positions, and practices. Watching these films can serve as a form of sexual education, providing individuals with new ideas and techniques to incorporate into their own sex lives.
4. Stress Relief and Relaxation: Like any form of entertainment, watching erotic movies can provide temporary escapism and relaxation. Engaging in pleasurable activities, including watching erotic content, can help reduce stress and promote overall well-being.
5. Couples Bonding and Communication: For couples, watching erotic movies together can be a way to explore mutual desires and fantasies in a shared space. This can foster open communication about sex and intimacy, leading to a deeper emotional connection.
6. Normalization of Sexual Expression: In societies where discussions about sex are often taboo, erotic movies can help normalize and destigmatize various aspects of sexuality. By portraying diverse sexual experiences and identities, these films can promote acceptance and understanding.
7. Enhanced Body Positivity: Erotic movies often feature a diverse range of body types and appearances, which can help individuals develop a more positive body image. Seeing realistic depictions of sexuality can reduce feelings of shame or inadequacy related to one’s own body.
8. Entertainment and Pleasure: Ultimately, watching erotic movies can simply be a form of entertainment and pleasure. Like any other genre of film, they provide an opportunity for individuals to indulge in fantasies, enjoy visual stimulation, and escape from the mundane aspects of daily life.

However, it’s essential to recognize that not all individuals may experience these benefits, and consuming erotic content can also have potential drawbacks, such as unrealistic expectations, objectification, or addiction. Therefore, it’s crucial for individuals to approach the consumption of erotic media with self-awareness, critical thinking, and moderation.

The post READING EROTICA VS WATCHING PORN appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

||This story is pure fiction. There is nothing truthful here||

“Gypsy, you have an appointment with Mr. Red shoes. Information is on the fax machine.”

He was his usual Monday self. Cheerful and full of life. Who am I kidding? The Man has the personality of dry toast. He did run a tight office, though. He knew how to get the girl’s appointments and make sure the client was always happy. I will give him that much credit. I grabbed the paper on my way to the lounge. There was nothing that stood out in the requirements he had for today. Red shoes, red dress, hair in a bun, and arrive at 8 pm—nothing to curl my toes or make me jump for joy. My crush was long over for this Man.

Following the instructions, I arrived at the hotel around 7:55 pm. His room was always the same. Room 419. A creature of habit that Man was. Checking the mirror as I walked to the elevator. The shimmer from those red heels danced in the ultraviolet lights of the lobby. A fitted red dress clung to my small frame. The most significant thing that caught my eyes was the crimson smear on my lips. Not one for expensive lipsticks, I had this one gifted to me for Christmas. It has actual flakes of diamond dust in it. Eat your heart out, Kylie Jenner. My lips are stunning.

A few knocks on the door, and he called for me to enter. I never use his name because, he is the red shoe Man.

I tossed my bag on the entry table. The first thing I noticed was the room was dark. Usually, the tv would be on to some political show or be on the phone with his wife. I often thought he did that to piss me off. It was how he was with all the girls he fucked. Since getting married, he has not been the same. Always angry and frustrated when I get there. I must admit that pleases me more than it should. His misery is my happiness.

“Get undressed, except for the shoes. Everything, and leave your hair up, or I will chop it off.”

I started to undress out of habit, not fear. He didn’t scare me. I knew underneath the facade; he was a small boy with commitment issues. Standing at the end of the bed, my normal 5ft 7 frame was four inches taller from the heel’s spike. I must have stood for about 10 minutes before he spoke again to me. It was impossible to endure this. I knew I was being paid, but I was going insane with not knowing what happened for the love of God.

“My wife left. She took the baby with her. She won’t be back. I should never have married a good woman when all I think about is a whore.”

My hands behind my back, fingers linked with each other, how could I look away from him? He was saying that he wanted me. I knew he was lying. Men do that when they want something. He tried to cause me the pain he felt from his loss. I guess that’s when I broke. One last tear ran down my face, but I wouldn’t leave. I was that whore. A good whore, to be exact.

“How can I help you?”

He rose to his feet without speaking, yanked the cord on the lamp to come out of both the wall and the light. He would bind my hands with this. Wrap the line tight around my joined fists, and make sure that it was tight. Palming my head, he pushed me down hard. My head rested at my knees.

“Look up at me whore! I want to see the pretty face I am going to destroy.”

Eyes up, my mouth opened wide to take his cock in the warmth of my oral cavity. He didn’t even wait for me to lick over the mushroom head. Nope, that cock pushed down my throat till his balls kissed my chin. I dug my nails into my palms, choking, the saliva poured from my mouth. His cock was angry tonight, and my throat would take the abuse. Unable to breathe for a moment, I couldn’t even form screams. My body lurched to take a breath. He was withholding my air from me. The moment I thought I would pass out; did he allow me a breath.

“Why are you doing this to me? I am not your wife.”

Slapping his cock against my cheek, he ordered me to open my mouth. I did, of course, but when he spit on my tongue, I thought I would vomit. I have licked assholes, but this was vile. Growling, I wrapped my lips around the head, the tip of my tongue now fucking his piss hole. In and out of the tiny slit, this Man oozed a thick stream of pre-cum. Sweet, the fluid poured into my mouth like a river of lust. My teeth on the rim made sure he couldn’t move, even though I would never hurt him. I was a nasty bitch.

A firm slap to the side of my head released my teeth from what they grasped, though I knew he liked it. I knew he wanted my throat more than he had ever wanted anything. All that fluid doesn’t lie. He can call me a liar, but the proof gathered at the tip of my tongue. A puddle of shame rested in my mouth, well, until I looked up and spat in his face. Spat that shit right in the middle of his forehead. I was certain that I would get fired for this, but it didn’t matter to me. He should respect women as more than someone to get his dick off.

“You fucking slut! How dare you do that to me. I will own you.”

Grabbing my bun, dragging me to the bed, I bent over the corner of the mattress. Ass up in the air, I bit the mattress when I realized what was going to happen. Pressing the head to the anal entrance, he shoved full length inside of me. I tried not to scream but couldn’t stop. Even the fabric of the comforter couldn’t hold all the noise back. I knew I would bleed on him, but he didn’t care. His brutal assault on my asshole was payback for spitting on him. Thrusting the shaft into my core, I could even feel the veins pushing against my anal cavity. Each time he forced himself into me, it felt as though his cock was being strangled.

“You dirty fucking bitch. I will ruin you.”

I felt the grip of his fingers on my hips as he rammed this cock into my asshole, breaking down the walls. It was a few minutes before the tears stopped, but he didn’t. I watched the clock on the wall. Twenty-five minutes passed before he pulled out of me. He hadn’t come through. Once again, using my hair as a handle, he would finish in my mouth. Finish that blood covered cock in my mouth. Raping my throat with his cock, he pushed in one last time and emptied his balls into the back of my throat. A thick splash of cum filled my mouth with the salty contents of his nut sack. Choking me with the intense amount he had to spill.

Releasing me, he dressed and left. He told me to keep the room for the night. Make myself at home there, and then he tossed a few hundred on the bed as a tip. No matter the amount of money he paid me, he would always be someone I use to know.

The post Red Is The Color Of Seduction appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Thank you to one of my great callers. He was the muse behind this story.

Notorious. Yes, that’s the rumors that she heard about the parties at the manor. Each person made to sign an NDA; Gypsy knew nothing other than they would change their lives after one night. Rumor had it that a live sex act was center stage during the event. That alone had her tingling so deep that she swore she was having secret little orgasms to prepare for it all.

Re-reading the invitation, she glanced through her closet for something to wear. Since it’s a formal event, she had to find a stunning gown that would make heads turn. The little Devil inside of her loved being the center of attention. A floor length red sequined dress, a pair of matching 5-inch stilettos, and diamonds. Lots of diamonds accentuated the outfit. She saved the best stuff for things like this.

An hour later in the back of a limo, Gypsy twitched in anticipation. She couldn’t talk about what was waiting for her beyond the doors of that expensive house. Keeping secrets was not her best trait, but she would for a chance to peek into another world. As the car came to a stop, the door opened and a hand held out for her to take. It was male, but other than that she was in a sudden haze. A stranger held Gypsy’s fingers. She felt like she was walking on clouds as he led her to the door. That wasn’t the host, but on a night like this, who knows what fate holds.

“Good evening,” the voice called out the moment the sky-high solid oak door opened. A tall man gray haired man stood in the entryway with a smile creasing his lips. He was handsome in a way that made a girl want to giggle out the /daddy/ name the moment you met him. Whoever he was there should be no doubt in his mind that Gypsy was awestruck by his appearance. She always did enjoy the company of older men over one her own age.

“Welcome to the party, dear. Won’t you join us?” the stunning man asked.

As she walked across the threshold, Gypsy let out a soft internal moan. A woman alone shouldn’t put herself in situations like this, but she couldn’t stop her feet. The house, or maybe the man pulled her in like a moth to a flame. Even if she tried, there was no way to stop the intense need for this man. As she passed him at the door, Gypsy inhaled the scent of the woods. He smelled like moss after a long sensual rainstorm. His presence was unlike anything she had ever felt. It nestled under her skin, attempting to surface.

Shivering when the door closed behind her, Gypsy sauntered her way into the main room of the manor. People to the left and right of her, she grabbed the first glass of wine that passed her way. Her slender fingers wrapped around the crystal goblet before bringing it to her lips. Sweet bursts of grapes caused her tongue to curl. She didn’t usually drink, but the night made her feel like she would need to later.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the show is about to start. Please be quiet and respectful of the participants,” a voice directed.

Dumbfounded for a moment, Gypsy followed the rest of the guests to what seemed to be an observation room. It was like the ones you would see in movies that showed students observing a surgical procedure. There were no seats in this one, but the viewers hurried to the big windows. The windows looked out onto a dark room. She was going to ask the woman next to her what was happening. Suddenly, the lights from below turned on and she gasped for air. The scene below felt as though it had to be unreal, but it was at that moment that she knew what the NDA was for.

On a table that looked like the one women have feared, a young blond whimpered in anticipation. She couldn’t be over twenty-one, and her body enhanced in all the right places. Long legs held apart by stirrups; her lower half blocked by a blue hospital covering. Was this a medical procedure, or something more sinister? Though she wanted to run, Gypsy stood as though she couldn’t move her legs.

“Are you ready?” a voice whispered from behind Gypsy.

Fingers pressed to the glass, she nodded her head that she was, and the events began to unfold below.

A male about fifty entered the room, standing at the girl’s head. Soft music now numbing the room, a door at the end of the lit room opened and a very slight female entered. As she walked across the floor, a very noticeable strap on rested at her waist. 9 inches in length, the flesh covered toy bounced with each step the woman took.

Shaking, Gypsy watched and listened to the events going on below. The conversations made her feel both excited and scared for the woman on the table.

“Do you hear that?” asked the male.

Whimpering, the girl on that table nodded, whispering, “Who is it?”

A loud boisterous laugh erupted from the man as he leaned in, whispering, “Does it matter? It could be a man.”

The second female smirked as she leaned down, taking the first lick of the other woman’s slit. A subtle moan erupted from the crowd, all wishing that they could taste the enchantress on the table below. One mentioned that she could smell it, but that was impossible. The viewing room was as sterile as a hospital setting. Checking to see if she was still breathing, Gypsy placed her fingers to her wrist, feeling for a pulse. She had held her breath so long that she feared passing out.

“Please don’t stop,” the young girl cried out.

“Shhh, all in due time. Patience,” the male laughed.

The female collected the nectar dripping from her pussy. She inserted three fingers into the wet opening. The slurping sounds echoed through the walls. Crying out in pain, the female on the table arched her back to see, but nothing. Her view was completely blocked. The second female pulled her fingers out, holding them up for others to view. Her nails were dripping with crimson, which she sucked off her fingers, taking her innocence. What they had seen was the deflowering of the young female. Suckling each digit as a reward, the scent of blood permeated the room.

“Are you ready?” the male whispered.

“I’m scared,” the young girl replied.

Behind the curtain the female stroked the strap on as though it was a real dick. Her slender fingers wrapped tight around the shaft; she had a look of hunger that would make most scared. She pushed the simulated cock into the other woman while everyone watched. She held her legs down even though they were already bound. Thrust after thrust, the female drove that cock deeper into the woman’s core. A violent series of thrusts took away innocence without any mercy or remorse. The aggressor used her long red nails to massage the victim’s clit. She wanted the victim to release built-up pressure in her body. The nerves swelled, causing pleasure. The victim spiraled into a pool of pleasure.

Gypsy touched herself while wearing the expensive evening gown. She was too focused to notice others having sexual enjoyment below.

From the room below the male whispered to the invited victim, “Was that a man or woman?”

Her eyes resembling those of a deer in headlights, she glanced over, “I don’t know.”

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Defeated, the young girl whispered back, “No!”

Moral of this story is does it really matter? The body craves touch and whether male or female, allow yourself the pleasure of indulgence and never regret the outcome. Lust knows no boundaries. 

The post Fantasy Or Reality; Does It Really Matter? appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

An erotic story with a twist.

“Gypsy, you’re wanted for the weekend in Vegas. Your ticket is at the airport, but this one, well this is something special. You need to sign this non-disclosure before leaving.”

It wasn’t the first time I signed one, but I almost died when I read the name. I can’t mention who this was, but he is enormous right now. I won’t ever let it slip, or tell you if you guess, but wow, I was in for a shock.

Arriving late Friday evening, a limo waited for me at the airport. Not unusual. Some of my clients are very well connected, and they do this quite frequently for me. Slipping into the sleek black car, a bottle of champagne was chilled and ready for me to enjoy my relaxing ride to the Venetian. I love that place, to be honest. Staying there is just a little pricey when you do it on your own dime.

I checked in and escorted to my room. There was a bathtub where the bubbles that looked like champagne fizzed when filled. I was in mid soak when the door opened, and there he stood. My god! I was starstruck for a moment, but he sure wasn’t. Dropping the robe, without a word, he joined me in the tub. From the view I had, he didn’t need an escort to please that beast between his legs.

“Did you have a good flight?” he asked.

That voice was smooth as silk. As we relaxed in hot water, a bellhop entered the room and left a bottle of Dom Perigon and two chilled glasses. My host popped the cork the moment he was gone. Pouring the drink, he leaned in for a seductive brush against my lips before handing it over. I think that was the first of many moments that I lost my breath. Many times in the past I had fantasized about this man, and here I was with him. I needed to remember he was human, just like anyone else. Only much better looking than most.

“It wasn’t bad at all. No screaming kids in first class,” I laughed.

We both had a good laugh at that one. I hate flying and listening to marital issues, kids crying, and how much someone doesn’t want to visit the bitch mother in law. Usually, that’s when my headphones become my best friend.

Reaching a hand out for me to join him on the other side, I slid my tiny frame over and nestled into his side. It was the kind of moment that most girls dreamed about experiencing. This man didn’t need to pay a whore for services. Any girl in her right mind would have taken my place for free, but he wanted to be able to enjoy himself without any repercussions. An escort is a perfect woman for that!

I had heard things about this man. He has a bit of a fetish for the feet. I can’t say I blame him. A foot carries the weight of the world upon them. His hand brushing down my silken locks, I admit now that I felt special for that one moment in life. We know that is not true. I am a whore who knows how to shut up. A woman who sells her pussy to the highest bidder, but not once did he make me feel that way. I felt like I mattered to at least one person in this heartless world. Pity that feeling was brought forth by the exchange of currency.

“I want you to move back to the other side, lift your foot, and show me, no, entice me to worship that perfect sole!” he said, his voice husky.

I have done many sessions with Men who love feet, but to know this particular man wanted to stroke, lick, and envelope my foot made something deep inside of me twinge with power. I have stated many times that I am not at all a Dominate, but I love twisting and tugging a man around my finger, or in this case, around my little toe.

I slipped back to my spot, lifting that size seven from the warm water. His eyes watched as a twist and turn of the ankle beckoned him to touch. In all honesty, I wanted to feel his mouth on my flesh. Inching closer to the edge, pressing my soft heel against his cheek, I lovingly stroked across the day’s growth of stubble. It felt like an electrical charge rushing through my body. Brushing my digits over his lips, I wanted, No! I needed to feel his tongue bathe my foot. Cleanse me from sole to soul.

I knew he was stroking, but I ignored it. I didn’t care about his hand massaging over that cock. All I needed was this bliss that was enveloping me with each lap of the skilled oral manipulator over my flesh. I would have sold my soul at that point. He was the only man to ever make me cum without either of us touching my genitals. Crying out, I came with a force that I had never experienced before. Rapture rushing through my veins. I would have been sedated with just this, but there was so much more to the weekend. Yes, I fucked him. Yes, he was terrific. Too bad I can’t tell you who he is, but a secret is a secret.

The post The Rockstar: An erotic story with sole appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

This is the first chapter of a book I wrote a few years ago. I am not giving you the title, I just wanted to share because it was a very exciting time in my life. The name is the same as mine, but the story is all fiction. I am about 1/2 way done with a new book right now, but time has been limited for me to write. If anyone wants to see some of my non-sexual work, ask. I would love to share.

Have you ever met one person that you can’t forget? Whether good or bad, their presence left a stain on your blue silk dress. At the age of 17 3/4, Gypsy was on the cusp of womanhood, and the first night of being an Escort. She was still a virgin then. Is it even possible for someone that age to have retained their virginity for that long? She once dreamed of saving that perfectly packaged little cherry for the man she loved. The need for money changed that. It’s funny how that happens. Starvation can change a person.

Frank Paloma was his name, and he was the underboss for a very affluent family. She had been introduced to him one night at a party, and the way his eyes drank her in, she knew he would be the one. Too many to count had offered her money for her innocence. They craved to wear it as a badge of honor. That bloodstain meant more to her than anything in the world, but it was a challenge for a man. They feel nothing for the woman as long as their nut sack is drained, and they have that cherry busting on their resume. 

New York – Waldorf Hotel :

“Get yourself some food from room service. I got a call to make,” Frank said. 

If one closed their eyes and listened, they would assume The Soprano’s was playing on the television when this man spoke. A thick Brooklyn accent, he made three calls while she waited for that room service meal. All of them business-related, she learned more that night than she had ever known. She knew that some guy named Tony was in the River as arranged, the price of a kilo of cocaine and that his wife was in labor with their first child. That was the night she learned that women in this business are only eye candy, but if she opened her mouth, she would end up like Tony. When the hotel door closes, so does the mouth.

When the knock at the door sounded, she was halfway to opening it, but a firm yank to the back of her hair caught her off guard. He knew she ordered food, so why stop her? It wasn’t till she saw the silver revolver in his hand did she realize what was happening. 

“You fucking stupid or something. Did your Mama drop you on yer fuckin head? Don’t you know who the fuck I am?”

All she could do was shake her head. Cat took her tongue along with her words. He checked the peephole before opening the door. The gun tucked down the back of his waistband. Tossing the money at the man, his large hand grabbed the dinner tray, slamming the door closed behind him. Frank placed the dish on the table. He pushed her against the wall with a loud thud. 

“If you ever pull that shit again, I’ll make sure that you don’t. Now fucking eat. I need my dick sucked, whore,” Frank grunted.

Her entire body shook with fear when he released her. Even her father didn’t scare her like that. Scrambling to the table, what the fuck was she going to do with all this food? She didn’t want it anymore and not sure she could even swallow it if she tried. The silver lid lifted, the food repulsed her. A burger and fries were usually her favorite, but not today. Would she insult him if she didn’t eat though. After all, he paid for this food. She didn’t want to offend the man on top of everything else that had happened. 

A bite. Just take a fucking bite. Gypsy dipped her head low, blond locks sheltering her face. She pushed one of the hot fries in her mouth, trying hard not to vomit it back up. Thankful, the salt is a natural repellent for vomiting and somewhat helped to settle her need to puke. She tried hard to take a bite of the burger, but her lips wouldn’t accept the offering. Covering the tray back, she waited for a moment before speaking. 

“I will eat this after. You don’t want me choking and puking, right?” Gypsy said.

His smile let me know that it would be fine. He was a man, after all. They think of nothing but getting off when it comes to a woman. 

“Take all the shit off except the shoes? Leave on those cocksucker heels. Then crawl over here with that ass up in the air so Daddy can see it!” Frank demanded. 

It was the moment he was lucky that she didn’t eat that food. She would’ve vomited the moment he said that endearing name. Daddy was and will always be the one person that she hates. Being a good girl, she did as told—first, the white silk blouse, then the pencil-thin black skirt with a slit to her ass. She dressed professionally but slutty enough to turn heads when she walks in a room. Underneath it all, she wore only a pair of white silk panties with a small red rose on the band.  There was never a bra needed.  She has a firm 32 B, so covering them at times seemed like a waste. 

A drop to her knees, she crawled across the carpet like a cat stalking a mouse. Her ass was high as she can put it. Frank’s expression told her immediately what she forgot. The panties. A hand up to halt her advancements. She saw the disappointment in his face. She could only imagine how displeased he was with her. Hindsight being twenty-twenty, maybe she did that on purpose. If he couldn’t see it, then he couldn’t have it, right?

“This is what’s wrong with you, young ones. Yer fuckin stupid. You don’t use your fucking brain at all,” said frank.

He rose from the bed, walking around. Frank used a switchblade to cut the barrier from her body. He didn’t toss them to the ground. Instead, he put them on the bed. Why? She will soon find that out. 

“Now get the fuck over here and suck my fucking dick, you stupid bitch!” he demanded. 

Scrambling across the room, her hand trembled when she pulled the teeth apart on his zipper. She reached in as though it would bite her. With her dominant hand, she removed the thick shaft of his massive headed cock. Whatever they say about Italian men was true. He was excessive in circumference, and the prominent veins on his dick pulsated with lust. Slender fingers caressed up and down that meat stick, each time her index finger massaged the veins to push pre-cum to the head. He was leaking in a stream down the sides of his prick. For a moment, this reminded her of a melting push pop on the hottest day of the summer. Sticky, sweet, and ready to explode. 

“Open yer mouth and lick that shit up,” Frank said.  

She closed the drapes on her blue orbs, her mouth slowly inched forward, tongue out to slither over the pulsating head. Like a snake, her tongue danced circles over his massive dick. She was using the very tip of her tongue to fuck the bubbling slit. She could push the very end of her oral muscle into the piss hole, causing him to grip the bed.  Hoping it gets her out of fucking. Stretching her lips wide, just as he used the back of her head as a handle for his needs, her throat became victim to his abuse. He thrust his hips against her face, his balls echoing a wet smack each time they hit her chin. The fuck was brutal on her throat. At one point, she could taste blood. That was the moment she learned to deep throat even the biggest dicks. 

“Stop yer fucking whimpers,” warned Frank.

Tears rushed down her face, staining her cheeks with a trail of tears. It hurt to take it all, but she could do it. She could take all of him. Gypsy might be 17, but she was earning her ranks in the escort business. As quickly as it started, it stopped. She heard the text come through his phone. Was he going to play on the phone during this?

“Get the fuck up and lay on the bed. Open yer legs wide enough that a heel touches each side of the bed. Then take those panties and stuff them in that cock hole. I can’t have you screaming and the heat busting down the door,” Frank ordered.

She did as told. It was her nature to please, and she’s good at it. What happened next put scars of fear all over her body. He muted her so she couldn’t refuse him anything. Between her legs, his phone sat, ready for whatever he had planned. The revolver he carried in his hand used his fingers to part her pussy lips, pushing the barrel of the loaded weapon inside of her sealed entrance. It was not enough to pop that cherry, but far enough that she had to stop the screams from coming. Was he going to fuck her with the weapon? That cold steel was stretching her little hole open to fit snug around it. In my wildest dreams, she could never imagine this happening to her.

“Now, here’s the deal. You rub that clit and masturbate for me. You make one sound while I’m on the phone, and I blow that fucking cunt away. Got it?” Frank said.

She nodded fast, her slender fingers pressing against the tiny package of nerves. Frank’s phone rang, but she never stopped. She massaged her pussy. The walls were slickened with juices. What the hell was wrong with her? 

“Babe, what is it? A fucking boy? About goddamn time I got a boy. Sorry, I had to go out of town, you know work though. Always needing me somewhere.” Frank said.

Did she hear this? Was he on facetime with his wife while she masturbated? He had a loaded gun inside of her, threatening to kill her, and he wants her to orgasm? This man had the voice of a Saint, and the self-control of the Pope. Not many could watch a girl massage her sweet young pussy and not even cause a rise in his pulse. She did note one thing, though. He seemed to push his fingers’ tips into the mattress, the longer he spoke on the phone. She could tell he was trying to get both of them off—his wife from the phone, and Gypsy in general. The silver revolver shined with a slick glaze of honey. 

“I’ll be at the hospital in a few hours. Give my boy a kiss from his daddy,” Frank said. 

With his phone off, Frank’s attention was back on Gypsy. She wished he would have stayed on the phone all night. At least when his wife was on the phone, she was safe. Her little bit of innocence that was left still intact. She wished to be a child again—one who only worried about skinned knees and the ice cream truck’s sound in the distance. Innocence doesn’t come with an expiration date, but she felt as though there is one on hers. She sold her virginity for forty grand. No person should ever have to do something like that. She never thought it was real until today. 

He pushed his hand across the white sheet, his fingers now gripping the cold metal. His hand wrapped around the handle as he placed his finger on the trigger. If Gypsy slipped, he could quickly end it, but if she didn’t, would ever recover? Did she want to? The sight scraping the wall, she screamed out in pain as the first hint of copper hit her nose. He scratched her innermost flesh, causing it to trickle a thin line of blood. He hadn’t taken her virginity, but he was close. She feared this act more than anything, but why? It was as natural as walking. People fucked every day of the week. Why should she hold onto something that never belonged to her anyway? 

Her finger moved over the swollen nerve center. Pinching and twisting the tiny nub, she pushed the image of the gun from her head. Oddly enough, it kept creeping back inside of her mind, littering her with sexual needs. What if he rammed the full barrel inside and fucked her cunt while she bled. Stop, that’s not how it happened. She lived with that fantasy for the longest time, but the real truth was so intense. 

He pulled the gun back, watching it drip pussy nectar, shaking his head. She had drenched the weapon without even trying. Was she as sick as he was? Who gets off on almost dying? 

“Open that fucking cock sucker and clean this. I can’t leave here with my gun smelling like cunt,” Frank demanded. 

She pushed herself up, nails dragging along the Egyptian cotton sheets, crawling like a stalking cat. If he had told her to purr, she would have. It was too hot, and though she hated him, she craved him. Dominance, power, and fear all ran through her head as she drowns in a sea of emotions.

Tonight was the beginning of her love for sucking cock. Her throat still ached from his dick, but her tongue pushed down that barrel, cleaning all of the juices. When done, it would sparkle as though it was newly purchased and never fired. A small taste of gunpowder in the back of her throat let her know he had used it before. 

He pushed her back on the bed with a firm hand, yanking her legs apart, and smirking as he looked down. He reached to the side of the bed, grabbed a little foil package, and slid the contents down the shaft of his cock. Spitting on the foundation of her innocence, a warm glob of saliva hit her clit, the head of his cock smearing it in. Then, at that moment, he lined himself up, forcing every inch of that massive dick inside her without warning – her pussy screamed for help along with her mouth. 

“Oh my god, fucking stop; just fucking stop!” Gypsy screamed. The only sort of reaction she got was a hand covering her mouth and his hips thrusting hard enough to shake the bed. Every inch of her body hurt, and the scent of blood filled the room. She was bleeding all over his cock. Her virginity was gone, and her thighs warm with a gush of blood. She sold herself for 40 grand. Was it worth it?  Yes. That was more than some made in a year. 

His hand moved when her mouth stopped, but only to be placed around her throat. Subtle choking, she thought he would kill her first, but then she realized how the lack of oxygen constricted her body to increase his pleasure. Her walls strangled his cock like a boa constrictor killing its first meal. He was going to hurt later, but right now, she prayed for a fast finish. Two minutes later, he pulled from the inside of her, ripped the bloody condom off, and shot all over her face. A steady stream of cum covering her face, the warmth felt like fire against her skin. 

No sooner had he finished was he gone. The sheets covered in blood, her face covered in cum, and forty thousand dollars thrown around the room for Gypsy to pick up. Looking down at the slaughter on the sheets, she knew that she would never be the same again. All she was is a bloodstain on a mattress and a memory of the day his son was born. Welcome to the Mafia. A place where the women are whores and the men love them.

The post Erotic Story With A Dangerous Twist appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Disclaimer: This is just a story. It is not about me. It is actually an inspiration for a book in the works. I am sharing it because the story is actually progressing very well.

I always knew that I wanted to save myself for marriage, but fate took the lead when it came to my virginity. My parents were very active members of the social circuit in our town. What most didn’t know was that they were very deep into the fetish community. Late parties at my home were something I grew up with but was never allowed to view. At 9pm on Friday nights, I needed to disappear. Whether staying with a friend, or in my room, I was not allowed to come into the family room. If I am being honest, I was curious, but too scared to find out. For a while I assumed they were witches and sacrificing souls in the backyard. Yes, a childish thought, but it was better than the truth.

I remember that Friday night vividly. Fall was upon us, and the night chilly, so I didn’t go out as often. Bonfires with friends were too cold to attend. At 9 pm on the dot, my mother reminded me that my bedroom was waiting and there already was snacks waiting for me. I had a private bathroom, so really, there was no need to come out of my room. Plus, the privilege of owning a cell phone, computer, and cable TV meant that I had everything an 18 year old could possibly want or need. Well, almost everything. I still was curious when I watched from the window and seen each car park and the couples come into the house. Most of them were my friend’s parents, but sometimes a new one attended. That always had my full attention.

Daddy shocked me.

Curiosity killed the cat, or something like that. Around midnight I did it. I snuck out of my bedroom and sat at the top of the stairs watching. Oh, my GOD! Those people, the ones that call themselves the pillars of society were in the middle of my living room having sex, being spanked, and wearing collars around their necks. My own father walked around with a leash and collar around his neck. I thought he was a real man because he was a CEO of a very large company. Little did I know, he was acting like a bitch in heat and wiggling his ass at every cock in the room. My love for him didn’t die that day, but my respect sure did. I knew at that moment that I could have anything I wanted with the knowledge that I obtained. Sadly, that high was short lived.

“What are you doing out of your room?” she asked.

My mother stood behind me on the stairs with a look of disgust on her face. I knew the second I looked up that she was disappointed in me. There is a huge difference between mad and disappointed. I would rather she grounded me for life than look at me like I was disobedient.

Stammering for words, my eyes filled with tears as I looked up at her. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep and I heard noises down here,” I lied.

“Am I supposed to believe that? You have everything you need, and yet you come out and bother us?” she sighed.

I shook my head, stood, and proceeded to head back to my bedroom when a hand stopped me. My mother grabbed the back of my sleep shirt, tugging it hard, “Oh no. You want to be a grown up, so come join the party.”

As curious as I was, I didn’t want to know anything about what they did in the darkness of the night. Seeing my father was enough to scar me for life.

“I’m sorry, please. I’m tired.”

Without another word my mother twisted her fist in the back of my pink flowered shirt and forced me down the stairs into the middle of Sodom and Gomorrah. People, no, friends parents all stopped as I stood there with my mouth wide open.

“Friends, we have a spy among us. You see, my lovely daughter has decided that she wants to join the party. I had hoped she would wait a while, but tonight will be her coming out party. Everyone, welcome her,” she announced.

The room erupted in a wave of cheers, claps, and smiles, but some of the couples held back their fear with fake faith.

“I have decided to allow Daddy to have my precious angel. He will choose her punishment or pleasure,” she added.

My father rested on his knees in a submissive pose, his face hiding the shock of what was to come for me. I am sure he knew already, but he also knew his place in this world. He was a submissive and my mother’s word was law.

Out of the corner of my eyes I saw him. The man they all referred to as Daddy. Standing at least 6 ft 4, he was a large man covered in tattoos. Right away he gave the biker vibe. Someone rough and dangerous, but as much as he was feared, he was loved.

“Bring her to me,” he said, his voice as though he scared his throat with a shot of whiskey.

“Mom,” I whined, not wanting to go to this stranger.

Smiling, she looked over with a wicked glance, “Go see Daddy. He will show you how to be a good girl.”

Reluctantly I moved to the man, noticing that he was at least a foot taller and a 100 pounds heavier that me. I’m sure the fear in my eyes fed his carnal needs.

“Kneel!” he said, his voice demanding.

I don’t know what happened at that moment, but I was on my knees with my baby blue eyes on the man. Almost as though I was trained to show him respect.

“Good girl,” he said, his hand reaching out to lightly stroke her hair.

My entire body shaking, I folded my hands in my lap, never once looking away at the man. I counted the tattoos on his arms and hand, all of them hinting at danger. Whoever this man is, the entire room respected him and feared him at the same time. I didn’t realize that tears rolled down my cheek until he laughed.

“Scared little kitten? Are you scared of what Daddy has planned for you?” he asked.

All I could do was nod my head. I was terrified of what they all had planned, not just him. My parents are there to protect me, not feed me to the lion. Unable to move, my mother placed herself behind me, her hands reaching out and pulling the zipper of his tattered jeans down. I couldn’t look away when she reached in his pants with the hand that held her wedding ring and pulled out his cock. When I say I died at that moment I don’t mean in the physical sense, but in the soulful one. His cock, that beast, was at least 10 inches in length, 6 inches around and filled with pulsating veins. If that wasn’t enough, the head was pierced. God, who does that? Who would allow a needle to rip around the flesh of their most sensitive body part? The devil, that’s who.

“Kiss it,” he said.

I wanted to resist, but my mother stood behind me forcing my head forward. No, I didn’t open my mouth, but I placed my first kiss on the head. It was my first kiss experience. Never in my wildest of dreams did I assume that I would kiss a cock and not a boy my own age.

“Dismissed,” he said, looking at my mother.

As the woman who gave birth to me moved away, Daddy placed his rough and calloused hands on my cheeks. One on each side, smearing in the tears that soaked my face. Holding my head in his strong grip, the head of his cock pressed against my sealed lips, pushing just enough to force the head of his cock against my teeth. Should I have bitten him? Not if I wanted to see the light of another day. I was fully confident that my mother would have allowed him to destroy me right there in front of everyone.

“Open your mouth, kitten,” he said.

This was the moment that I knew my parents transferred ownership over to this man. Sure, I was old enough to make my own choices, but I didn’t. My mouth opened and inch by inch that beast of a cock pushed across my tongue, stopping the second he reached my throat opening.

“You are not allowed to gag, bite, or choke. You will swallow my cock and hold it until I say stop. If you do any of the above you will not enjoy the end results,” he warned.

I knew by his tone and the way his eyes bore into my soul to not test this theory. My mouth opened wider, and when he pushed into my throat, I cried as every inch buried into my throat. I did not gag, choke, or bite, but there were a few seconds there that I thought I would suffocate. Sucking cock is a learning curve. You either do it, or you fail. I didn’t fail.

Never once did his hips move. His hands still on the cheeks, he used my mouth like a cock sleeve, pulling back and pounding back into my throat. His balls hit my chin with a round of applause each time he hit the homerun and stretched my throat open. I heard the grunting from above, but when he held my head down, his cock not pulling back, my stomach claimed the first prize. A pipe busted and my mouth overflowed with the sweetest cream. My first taste of cum intoxicated me with a burst of amazing flavor. If that wasn’t enough, the clapping that pulsated in my ears let me know that I was now his kitten, and he would take possession of me that night. I moved out of my house that night, but my training was just beginning. Daddy is showing his kitten how to purr.

The post Daddy and Kitten – Breaking her in appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.