Your deeds tonight have elicited a response I have long craved. I have always wanted a man to control the situation, to control me. Until now no man has ever been successful.

I was taken aback by your requests to remove my panties at the table during dinner, as we sat across from our companions who knew nothing of the devilish demeanor that lay within that mind of yours. Once I finally removed them, you slipped my beautiful midnight blue v-cut panties into your pocket; you made me keep my skirt hiked, my bare ass sticking to the vinyl, your hands grasping at my thighs throughout the remainder of dinner. By then my mind was already searing with your tantalizing wickedness. I felt odium and delight in one, a mix of sheer pleasure and humiliation in your fiendishness. I knew when I rose from the seat my mark will have remained, with the sensation I was already consumed with, I was sure to leave behind a small puddle.

When we reached your apartment, I thought you were done, or that was it, and yes while that was fine, I secretly wanted more. More of your control, your power, I wanted you to tell me… no I wanted you to make me yours.

That’s why– I was secretly, beyond, elated when you seized my wrist and twisted my arms behind me. I immediately felt myself fill with pleasure in what you may have in store for this bad kitty. You instruct “over here pet” and proceed to have me kneel before you. I crave to follow your direction; my cunt lifts and clinches when you call me pet. I love this; I love being considered a play thing, an animal, a toy, a pet.

I watch with widened eyes as you remove your clothing and then unhook the belt. Ooh….My mind reels–what are you going to do once you have pulled it from the loops? Are you going to fold it in half and spank me with it, are you going to massage my now very wet lips with it, tease, maybe slip it in a little, get the leather wet and then smack my ass with it? I begin to speak, you instantly stop me. I am so turned on as your finger bumps against my lips, silently telling me the time for talking is done.

Then you seem to yank it from your waist and command me “put your hands together.” I blaze with an excitement I have never felt, I feel searing liquid already dripping down my thigh. You constrain my wrist with the belt then pull me up like it is a handle and drape me over your lap, where I am sure to leave, yet another wet spot. I am already throbbing in anticipation of what is about to take place. You snatch my skirt up past my ass, and then I feel it–a swift, firm spank to my cheek. I melt; it feels so fucking luscious, I think it made me slightly cum. Then from out of nowhere you pull my panties from your pocket and shove them into my mouth, restraining not only my mouth, but my tongue. I am dazed, agitated and utterly turned on all at once. My mind does not even get time to register the fact you have stuffed my own panties between my lips–before you do it again–only better, faster, harder, the sting administered by your hand brings forth an animal squeal from me. I would flash embarrassment if I was not so aroused by the move. I can now feel your cock swell under me; it too causes me to let out a breathy moan of craving.

I am longing for more, and then you grab the belt and nudge me off your lap, while holding onto the makeshift belt handle, directing me to my knees. You stand, I do not turn but I hear you undress, I can almost smell you. You bid me further to the floor by grabbing the back of my hair and impelling my face downward, which causes my ass to be raised further into the air, an improved view for you. The compelling tug on my hair has me anticipating your next move with a longing that starts in my mind and runs the length of my body. My wait is not long–there is no time to even react to you raising my ass before you swiftly, forcefully strike the untouched side of my ass. There was an instant throb; I knew instantly my bottom was a beautiful shade of painful pink. This throb was not only on my ass, but my cunt was now resonating uncontrollably as well. I felt my eyes water, but did not know if it was tears from the pain or the pleasure.

My favorite, especially now, panties still stuffed in my mouth has heightened my sense of smell. I smell your space, I smell you so close to me, I smell your body, I smell my own sweet musk radiating from between my thighs, and, I swear, I can smell the scent of your cock, from behind me as my ass remains ascended toward your gaze. I feel your breath along my neck as you lean over and tug on the v-cuts, they seem to cascade out of my mouth. You lean in close and whisper; asking me, not wanting an answer, already knowing my answer, “Do you want something else in there? Do we need something else for my kitty’s mouth?” The sound of your voice sends a chill down my spine that emanates deep into me; I can feel the pulsating from inside me. I know that if I were able to slide my hands onto my stripped junction that they would easily glide across my flesh like silk. The thought begins to make me throb even more and I want to beg, I want to beg for you to caress my growing fruit. I want to beg for you to slide your fingers along my slit; I want to beg for so much more. However, I suppress my wishes and continue to take pleasure in the restraint and in your control, knowing in the end the beg will be unnecessary.

Instead, I obediently nod. You sit–your cock pointing at me–tantalizing me with that beautiful streamline that runs your curve. I want to pounce, wanting to devour it and you whole. You say “Wet this for me pet” and my cunt liquefies even more and my mouth drips with saliva as I sink my lips around your head. It taste so damn good I cannot control myself and I begin to rise and fall on your shaft. You stop me so quickly, again by taking hold of my hair and saying “There– that’s enough.” I want to cry out for more, but your authority has me absolutely captivated. I am yours. I will abide.

I watch eagerly as your full round head and curve bounce in front of me as you stroke up past the tip and then back down the length, making me so ravenous. You tug on your balls causing your cock again to bounce so close to my face, to my mouth. My pussy clinches and pulsates. You taunt me again with your words “Is that what you want? Promise you will be a good kitty?”
I nod eagerly. My mind racing–What I want?

What I want– is you to grab my hips by my ass from behind and pound that stunning curve deep into my cunt, relentlessly with no delay, with no more tease, I want you to plow me, I want you to push my body into the floor with your hands tangled in my hair, while my ass stays raised in place, as your dick cuts through my soaking wet pussy, pummel me until I feel it in my brain. I want you to spread me open, I want to feel your throbbing inside me until you are about to cum. Then I want you to lift me back up by my belt handle and dictate me to rise to my knees and finish your cock with my mouth, my lips– until I surrender my entire mouth to you and I feel and taste your cum slip down my throat. That is what I want. I promise I will be a very good kitty.

This is an oldie from the Library Vixen Archive– orginally posted January 4, 2009.

Most days at the library are busy enough to keep my pussy on the job, but Saturday’s are a different story.

Friday’s are my day off, usually spend lingering on porn and my pussy, so that by the time I have to work on Saturday I am mellow (from all the cumming) and still horny (Ms. get a little need a lot), wanting to continue the pussy fun I was having the day before. Saturday is also Ass Appreciation day on the tumblr, so a good portion of the morning is spent looking at hot ass. Well a few hours of tumbling ass, with my fingers often finding their way to the junction between my thighs, checking on that sweet slick I have forming is enough to set the stage for a frisky horny Saturday.

Work has a different atmosphere on the weekend, less supervisors and more actual workers. There is actual down time, unlike the week days. Therefore, Saturday is my favorite day to bring the toys to work and spend some quality time in bathroom number three. I can take my time to cum, not like a mid-week rushed bathroom three cum, but a linger day tripping cum. I usually set myself up with a frisky email friend or another to keep me in mood, to play with, to ploy their mind for my cunts sake, to tap into their virtual cock–so I have more of a reason to tease my own pussy.  Sometimes it is more than one cock I like to play with, sometimes two, three and sometimes it is a cock and his pussy. But, this Saturday there was only the one.

He has been inspiring my kitty for quite some time now. He knows how to push my buttons from afar, knows the words to type to make me want more, to make me want to give more, to make me wet.

I started by sharing a shot of my work toys charging on their base (a simple tease), followed by an image of my ass in a pair of soft brown and blue ride between my round ass cheeks lace panties. His response, of course, instantly drove me mad in the best possible of ways. He can get me with just the mere thought of his cock beginning to grow heavy. He makes me beg for it, even only in words, I still beg.  He likes it when a woman begs for his cock.

He asked me to promise (words he doesn’t use to often), so of course I oblige, to think of him while I stoked and cooed the kitty. More precisely he asked that I think about him making me crazy with cock tease, till he bends me over and makes my kitty his. I have on a few, maybe more, occasions fucked myself while thinking about him, but this is the first time I can recall him asking me to think about him while I do so.

It was quite easy, and absolutely a pleasure to keep you in my mind while I took pictures as I brought myself to the edge and then over.

I only use bathroom three to cum in, I have yet to find another suitable location. It is off the path enough to not be noticed, but may heard if I got too loud by a random passerby. I try to keep it as quite as I can, which can actually lead to stronger orgasm, I guess the restraining of my voice and surrounding is released mainly through my pussy rather than my whole being.

I like to wear skirts on Saturday’s so I can easily stroke the kitty throughout the day, by hiking it up each time I make a trip to the bathroom, or to the copy room, or the closed stacks, or the sorting room, or wherever the mood should strike.  When the time comes to actually get in my pussy, I take my skirt off and lay it across the ugly orange vinyl chair provided in each bathroom.

Skirt off, I begin taking a few phone cam shots in the mirror of my body, my ass, my pussy, my hand on my pussy inside my panties. I move to the chair and prop my feet wide on the wall and begin to make my lips pump full of blood. I imagine you watching me, watching how I pet my pussy on top of the lace as I watch you grow heavy in the jeans as you shift around attempting to accommodate the growth of your cock.

I keep the phone cam snapping as I move from fingers to toy and some combination of the two. I am easily aroused and wet already. Drifting–I think about you rubbing your heavy cock. It think about unbuttoning your fly, feeling that curve fill my hands, run my fingers across your root, my tongue licking the fabric of your boxers feeling you twitch, as your lean against the wall watching me work your cock.

Further I sink into the vinyl chair my head tipping and eyes begin that slit. I lift my ass off the chair a bit to pull my wet patch of lace fabric to the side and slide my fingers in. Creamy and smooth–lately I have been more of a soft cream consistency that builds to that slick state. Bringing the soft pink end of my Gigi to my mouth I get it nice and wet, then slip it between my ripe pussy lips–and I my mind ambles into your cock again, rub it on me, on my lips, my cheeks, my tits, my tongue–yes my tongue please-please give me some.

I have stopped taking pictures and am deep in my pussy, my finger fucking deep inside, and the Lelo is vibing my clit out. The friction of your cock against the lace, press into my junction is too much, I need now.  I need to fuck to now. I snap a few more action shots of me fucking and coming close, then let the phone slide away and concentrate on your cock and my cunt and bringing myself to the brink. Soft moans and heavy breath fill the air of bathroom three. I whimper jolt and cum nice solid and hard. That orgasm smile comes to my face, my head spinning and crazy. I love that rush. I take two last pictures–the smile on my face and the cum covering my fingers.

When I have pulled myself together I walk out onto the floor, that post cum smile still  flooding my face, that floating  on a cloud feel, that smell still on my finger and between my legs, my pussy wet being absorbed into the already wet lace panties– then I begin to wonder which one will be able to tell what I just did in bathroom three.

It is after the morning rush and prior to the lunch rush, the time I usually find myself at my favotite downtown coffee house. They make a perfectly strong Americano. I am a regular here, as are many others. For the last month or so I have been seeing this man, he is dark brooding, perhaps five plus years older than me. We have an acknowledged glance as two downtown coffee lovers nothing more.

Until today, today I was waiting in line as he was receiving his coffee and leaving the counter to find a seat, where he normally buries his head into The Times, but today, and I do not know what it was; perhaps it was my new skirt, which has extreme darts sewn into the back that accentuates my already curved ass, maybe it was black shoe with wood heels that make my calves look vigorous and strong, maybe it was the bare smooth legs, maybe it was the smoky lip gloss, but when he glanced at me I knew exactly what this fleeting look proposed. Usually I would either miss such momentary glimpses or become overwhelmed with coyness and dismiss the gaze and focus my eyes to the floor. However; today I was flooded with a wave of unabashed sexuality. I, without delay, forwardly returned his gaze, with a raise of my eyebrow and a small parting and lick of my lips. Our eyes locked and we knowingly understood something enticing was about to ensue.

I sugared and creamed my coffee, took a deep breath and found a seat across the room from him, but in clear view. He is wearing a dark suit that matches his olive skin and dark peppered hair, not perfectly pressed, but not wrinkled either. I look over at him–seeing him look directly at me, watching him shift in his chair to obviously alter what was beginning to swell. The move mesmerized me and I held my gaze, so much so that for a moment he dropped his, but only for a moment. When he looked back at me I moistened my lips with my tongue and gave a slight bite to my bottom lip. Taking one more sip on my coffee and without taking my eyes off him rise from my chair.

I feel his eyes following my back side as I walk toward the women’s room. When I reach the door, I pause and look back at him unashamed at my lust that is beginning to make me wet. I disappear behind the door, I enter, straighten myself in the mirror and anticipate his entrance. He does not leave me waiting long. The door and he locks it behind him. I turn to meet him and he grabs me and forces me back toward the mirror my ass into him. Grabbing my head from behind, pulling it to one side and he begins to kiss my neck from behind. I feel myself melt under the grasp of his forceful pull. His hand slides under my blouse and beneath my flimsy bra, as he grasps at my flesh I feel the warmth radiating from his strong hand. His lips move from my neck toward my ear and he whispers “lift that skirt and spread your legs.” I comply. Sustaining his grip on my breast while his other hand travels up the back of my hiked skirt. I begin to pant the closer he gets to my now dripping pussy. His fingers graze my lips through the fabric of my panties, causing me to let out a slight low moan. This moan causes him to pull his hand away. I am confused with a hint of torment. He grabs his handkerchief from his breast pocket and assertively stuffs it into my mouth. I am shocked and turned on beyond belief. He then tells me “You need to be silent,” as his hand then moves up the back of my skirt again, I am more wet than before, if that is possible.

Exploring the mountains of ass and assertively pawing at the foothill of the junction between my thighs, he grabs my panties from the fabric trinagle between my legs and yanks them down as far as the brown lace will stretch past splayed legs. As he yanks my skirt further up around waist his hand never leaving my body seeks out the heat between my legs. His touch is vehement, unruly and makes me soak as he parts my slick slit with this stroke, if my mouth was not stuffed I would have surely let out a deep moan.

Plunging deeply into my cunt as he pulls me back into his body his other hand still around my breast, he begins to kiss the side of my neck with more force until it feels like I am about to melt upon his fingers and fist. He speaks softly in my ear “you are a fucking wet irresistible bitch.” I respond by pulling his fingers into me further with firmest clinch this pussy can pull. He continues to work it. I am rocking harder and grinding myself atop his whole hand. Removing his other from my blouse and down to my clit, which he also begins working feverishly on. In a matter of moments I feel myself seize around his hand as he lifts me off the ground by my cunt and I cum hard, I feel myself grabbing tightly around his fingers clinching, twitching, then a spill of sweet release, the inside of thighs dripping and his fist and fingers are covered in me. He slides them out from deep and rubs my entire pussy. Pulling them out, he slides two of the fingers in his mouth and in my ear tells me just how “fucking delicious” I am. Pulling at me one last time and passing his lips across my neck, he removes his handkerchief and slides his slick fingers in its place, so I can taste for myself. He then turns a walks out, leaving me week in the knees with my panties stuck somewhere between knees and floor, skirt hiked, panting in a whimpering mess.

I love coffee.

I have a handful of online male companions, whom I speak with, flirt with, cyber sex with, and pass my time at the reference desk with. It’s fun, relatively harmless sexy virtual activity. There are some I share pictures of my ass and other parts with, some I cum with via IM, and some who I have deep fulfilling conversations with–about, love, poetry, art, music, film and of course fucking. Well we all want to talk about fucking. It always comes back to the loins.

My newest cohort has been naughty fun and not all just sexual, but we talk about life and the dailies of life. But, well– you know me, I always return to my wet kitty. Today I was waiting for an appointment, emailing via my blackberry, telling my invisible cyber man what I was wearing for the day. This always sets his mind to spin.

Not long after receiving my email he responds back with an “assignment” for me.

“Your assignment for the day is to get to work safely and on-time, but at 4:30, when I am leaving for the bus to go home and paint my office, you are to find a quiet place in the stacks, remove the undoubtedly cute panties, and slip them in to a book that is big enough to hide them, but one that will be checked out eventually, maybe not today, or this week, or even this month, but you will know that someday, someone will open up that book and a little bit of you will spill out….”

Wednesday at the library is always mild, I don’t get there until late, work until closing and it is my supervisor’s day off, so the setting is relaxed. I email him back asking if there is any particular book he thinks I should put them in. Should it be science, art, automotive, or the obvious sex? He responds with the Dewey decimal call number of 391.42, now I know my Dewey’s and know this is sexual in nature just not exactly of what naturere. I decide not to look it up and be surprised, well actually at this time I was not even sure I would be going to go through with his antics, but I was excited by the idea. It runs through my mind that I could just tell him I did it, describe enough to get him excited and turned on. The thoughts linger on my way to work.

Once there and I see just how mellow and slow the day was, I decide to go through with it. Once the decision was made, I began to get wet and excited; I could feel my freshly waxed pussy lips slick together with each step of friction the closer it got to 4:30. I am scheduled on the reference desk from 4-5, so around 4:20 I ask a co-worker to cover the desk for me, claiming I had to make an important phone call. Leaving the desk I stop into our small sorting room, door open to all who work there, yet still somewhat private, but anyone could walk in at any moment. I move away from the door and slip down my pale orange decorated sheer panties, slip them over one boot then the other. Once off, I see the small wet spot I have left in my excitement, bringing them to my nose I sniff. Nice sweet musk, mild and clean. Folding them neatly I slide them into my pocket, fix my skirt and head out the door with purpose.

Choosing the public elevator, so that none of my co-workers will see me, I head to the third floor. Once the doors open I take the long way around avoiding the reference desks, checking out the cute library pages on the way, winding around to the 300 section—320, 350, 370, 380, 390, where sign is placed “the 390 are shelved on the 4^th floor.”

D’oh! how ridiculous, back to the elevators. The fourth floor is far trickier, Art and Music, I am up here all the time, plus my department was relocated here for a short time. I know everybody, I am almost sure to run into someone who knows me. Performing the same maneuver as on the third floor, around the back, I avoid the reference desk, winding my way to the appropriate section, my pussy wet with eagerness and freedom. I get to the section having only run into a few new staff member who do not know me, but I would sure like to get to know them.

390’s, 391.40, 391.42, found it! All the way at the bottom, I squat, my thighs spread apart, my lips open, unbound—the scent of excitement is easily detected. There are only two books though, the rest, undoubtedly, kept in the reference section as theft prevention, I choose 391.4209 A Brief History of Unmentionable. Rising, I turn and place the book on the shelf behind me out of view of passerby’s, as I flip through the history of panties. Choosing an appropriate page, holding it open I pull my panties from my pocket, dropping them between the pages, refolding them so they are contained within the boundaries of the book, and then I close the unmentionables. Once, it is hardly detectable that there is a sheer lace obstruction between the pages. It’s perfect. Squatting back down I re-shelf the book in it’s appropriate place, admire my completed assignment, spread my thighs a little, bounce back up, and head to the elevators, wetter than before. Back to my department, back to the shelving, back to the patrons, and back to the reference desk with my naughty little secret and my bare ass under my skirt.