Teach Me Tonight

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The classroom smelled of old books and chalk dust, the kind of scent that clung to your clothes and reminded you of deadlines and teenage angst. I was seventeen, a senior, and like half the girls in my year, I had a crush on Mr. Carson, our English teacher. He was the kind of man who made you forget about the dull drone of Shakespearean sonnets and the endless essays on symbolism. Tall, with broad shoulders and a jawline that could cut glass, he was freshly divorced, and the whispers in the hallways painted him as a tragic hero—a man wronged by love, ripe for the picking. I wasn’t one to believe in tragedy, though. I saw opportunity.

That morning, I’d woken up with a plan. It was bold, reckless, maybe even stupid, but I was tired of pining from afar. I wanted him to notice me, really notice me. So, I’d slipped into a skirt so short it barely covered my ass, paired with a tight white blouse that hinted at the curves beneath. The pièce de résistance? No panties. Not a thread. I’d shaved my pussy smooth the night before, the pink flesh glistening under the bathroom light, and I’d practiced my moves in the mirror—crossing and uncrossing my legs, letting my skirt ride up just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of skin.

Class started, and I took my usual seat in the second row, directly in Mr. Carson’s line of sight. He was lecturing about Pride and Prejudice, his deep voice filling the room, but I wasn’t listening. I was focused on my mission. I waited for the perfect moment, when his eyes were on me, and then I struck. Slowly, deliberately, I crossed my legs, letting the hem of my skirt creep higher. His gaze flickered down, and I held my breath. He looked back up, his expression unreadable, but I knew I’d caught his attention. A few minutes later, I uncrossed my legs, giving him another flash of bare skin. This time, his eyes lingered, and I saw it—the slightest flush in his cheeks, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

The bulge in his pants was the real prize, though. It was subtle, but I noticed it, and it sent a thrill through me. Mr. Carson was affected. He was human, just like the rest of us, and he wanted me. Or at least, he wanted what I was offering.

When the bell rang, everyone packed up and left, but I stayed behind, pretending to gather my things. Mr. Carson approached my desk, his steps measured, his expression stern. “Brooke,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “we need to talk.”

I looked up at him, batting my eyelashes innocently. “Yes, Mr. Carson?”

He leaned against my desk, his tall frame looming over me. “What you’re doing… it’s not appropriate. You’re a student, and I’m your teacher. This kind of behavior—”

“I’m just sitting here, Mr. Carson,” I interrupted, smiling sweetly. “It’s not my fault if you’re looking.”

His jaw tightened, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. He was fighting himself, torn between his duty and his desire. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Brooke. You’re a smart girl. You know this isn’t right.”

I stood up, sliding my chair back with a scrape against the floor. “I know what I want, Mr. Carson. And I want you.”

His eyes widened, and he took a step back, as if my words had physically struck him. “You can’t just say things like that. I could lose my job. My reputation—”

“Your reputation?” I laughed, a low, husky sound that seemed to unsettle him further. “Or your control? You’re afraid of what might happen if you let go, aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer, but the way his chest rose and fell told me everything I needed to know. I took a step closer, my skirt riding up even higher as I did. “I’m not afraid, Mr. Carson. Are you?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he reached out, his hand hovering in the air between us as if he wanted to touch me but couldn’t bring himself to do it. I closed the distance, pressing my body against his, feeling the heat of him through his dress shirt. His hands found my waist, his fingers digging into my skin as he pulled me tighter against him.

“You’re playing with fire,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear.

“And you’re the one who’s going to get burned,” I murmured back, my lips brushing his neck.

He didn’t respond, but his hands spoke for him. They moved up my back, under my blouse, tracing the curve of my spine. I shivered at his touch, my nipples hardening against the fabric of my bra. I could feel his erection pressing into my stomach, and I ground myself against him, savoring the way his breath hitched.

But then he pulled away, his hands dropping to his sides as if he’d burned himself. “This can’t happen, Brooke. It’s wrong.”

I smirked, stepping back and smoothing my skirt down. “If it’s so wrong, why does it feel so right?”

He didn’t answer, just turned and walked to the front of the classroom, his shoulders tense. I watched him go, knowing I hadn’t won yet, but I was closer than ever.

That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way his hands had felt on my skin, the way his breath had quickened when I pressed against him—it was all I could think about. I knew I had to push harder, to make him see that what we wanted wasn’t wrong. It was inevitable.

So, I devised a plan.

The next evening, I drove to his house, my heart pounding in my chest. I’d dressed for the occasion, wearing nothing but a trench coat, my bare skin tingling in the cool night air. I’d practiced my speech in the mirror, but as I stood on his doorstep, I realized words weren’t necessary. Actions would speak louder.

I rang the doorbell, my hand trembling slightly. When he opened the door, his eyes widened in shock. “Brooke?”

I didn’t say anything. Instead, I let the trench coat slide off my shoulders, pooling at my feet. I stood there, naked and unashamed, my breasts rising and falling with my rapid breaths, my shaved pussy on full display.

His gaze raked over me, hungry and desperate. “What are you doing here?”

I stepped closer, placing a hand on his chest. “I’m here for you, Mr. Carson. For us.”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing again. “You’re out of your mind. This is insane.”

“Or it’s exactly what we both want,” I countered, my voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in my stomach.

He hesitated, his hand reaching out as if to touch me but stopping short. “I can’t do this. I won’t.”

I leaned in, pressing my lips to his, soft and insistent. He resisted for a moment, but then his lips parted, and his tongue met mine, hungry and demanding. I moaned into his mouth, my hands tangling in his hair as I pulled him closer.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against mine as he gasped for breath. “You’re going to ruin me.”

“Or I’m going to set you free,” I whispered, my lips brushing his.

He didn’t respond, but he stepped back, opening the door wider. “Get inside before someone sees you.”

I smiled, a triumphant smirk that I knew would drive him wild. I stepped into his house, the trench coat forgotten on the doorstep, and let the door close behind me.

What followed was a blur of heat and hunger. He pushed me against the wall, his hands roaming over my body as if he couldn’t believe I was real. His lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as he kissed and sucked, leaving marks that would bruise by morning. I arched into him, my hands gripping his hair, my moans echoing through the empty house.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled, his mouth finding my breast, his tongue swirling around my nipple.

“Take me, Mr. Carson,” I panted, my head falling back against the wall. “Show me what you’ve been dreaming of.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He lifted me, his hands under my ass, and carried me to the couch, laying me down gently before shedding his own clothes. I watched as he undressed, my eyes drinking in the sight of his muscular body, his thick, hard cock standing proud.

“God, you’re perfect,” I murmured, reaching out to stroke him.

He hissed at my touch, his head falling back as he savored the sensation. “Tease,” he muttered, but there was no heat behind the words.

I laughed, a low, sultry sound that seemed to drive him wilder. “You love it,” I said, my hand moving slower, torturing him.

He groaned, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand away. “Enough. I need you now.”

He didn’t waste time. He pushed my legs apart, kneeling between them as he gazed at my pussy, his eyes dark with desire. “So wet,” he murmured, his finger tracing my folds, gathering my juices before bringing it to his mouth.

I moaned, my hips bucking slightly as he tasted me. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

He smirked, leaning down to kiss me deeply before positioning himself at my entrance. “Ready?”

“More than you know,” I breathed.

He thrust into me, slow and deliberate, his eyes locked on mine as he filled me completely. I gasped at the sensation, my nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his hips snapping against mine in a steady rhythm.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his forehead resting against mine. “So tight, so hot.”

“Fuck me, Mr. Carson,” I demanded, my voice thick with need. “Show me why I’ve been dreaming of this.”

He didn’t hold back. He pounded into me, his cock reaming my pussy, his balls slapping against my ass with each thrust. I met him stroke for stroke, my hips rising to meet his, my moans growing louder as the pleasure built.

“Harder,” I begged, my hands gripping the cushions. “Give it to me harder.”

He growled, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming more urgent. “You like it rough, don’t you? You like being fucked like the dirty little slut you are.”

His words sent a jolt of arousal through me, and I screamed his name as my orgasm hit, my pussy clenching around his cock as I came apart. He followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he filled me with his cum, his groans of pleasure filling the room.

We lay there for a moment, our bodies still joined, our breaths slowly returning to normal. “That was…” I started, but I couldn’t find the words.

“Incredible,” he finished for me, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I smiled, running my hands over his back. “And that’s just the beginning.”

He chuckled, pulling out of me and helping me sit up. “You’re insatiable, Brooke.”

“And you’re just getting started,” I replied, my eyes sparkling with mischief.

Little did I know, that night was just the first chapter in our scorching affair. Over the next six months, Mr. Carson taught me everything there was to know about sex—and I showed him just how much a student could teach her teacher. But that’s a story for another time. For now, I’ll savor the memory of that first night, when I crossed the line from fantasy to reality, and Mr. Carson became mine.

The Leap of Faith

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I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the leather creaking beneath me as I gathered the courage to speak. Dr. Ava Collins, my psychologist, sat across from me, her hazel eyes warm and inviting behind her glasses. Her shoulder-length brown hair framed her face, and her intelligent gaze seemed to see right through me. At 54, she had a presence that was both calming and commanding, her great body and C cup breasts hinting at a confidence that made me feel safe yet intimidated. The office was cozy, with soft lighting and the faint scent of lavender, but my mind was anything but at ease.

“Carter,” she began, her voice steady and kind, “you’ve been quiet today. Is there something on your mind?”

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it. I had to say it. “Yeah, there is,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s… it’s about my girlfriend. And me. There’s something I’ve been wanting to try, but I’m scared to bring it up.”

Dr. Collins leaned forward, her elbows resting on her desk, her fingers intertwined. “I’m here to listen, Carter. You know that. What is it?”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “It’s about… pegging. I’ve been fantasizing about my girlfriend using a strap-on on me. But I’m terrified of how she’ll react. I mean, it’s not exactly a typical thing, right?”

She nodded slowly, her expression neutral but understanding. “Sexual exploration is a deeply personal journey, Carter. It’s natural to feel hesitant about sharing your desires, especially when they’re outside societal norms. But communication is key in any relationship. Have you considered just… asking her?”

I laughed nervously, running a hand through my hair. “Easier said than done, Doc. I mean, what if she thinks I’m weird? Or worse, what if she laughs at me? I’ve been using prostate massage toys on my own sometimes, and it feels amazing, but sharing that with her? It’s a whole different ballgame.”

Dr. Collins smiled gently, her hazel eyes softening. “Carter, the only way to know how she’ll react is to ask. It might feel scary, but think about the potential for growth—both for you and for your relationship. And remember, if she’s the right person for you, she’ll be open to exploring your desires with you.”

Her words resonated with me, but the fear still lingered. “I guess you’re right,” I mumbled, more to myself than to her. “But what if she says no? What if I ruin everything by even bringing it up?”

“Carter,” she said, her voice firm yet compassionate, “a relationship built on honesty and trust can withstand these conversations. If she’s not open to it, that’s her choice, but at least you’ll know. And if she is… well, think of the pleasure you could share.”

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “I know you’re right. It’s just… it’s hard to put myself out there like that.”

Dr. Collins stood and walked around her desk, sitting on the edge of it, closer to me. Her presence was grounding, her scent—a mix of lavender and something uniquely her—filling my senses. “Carter, I’ve been a psychologist for decades, and I’ve seen countless people struggle with this exact fear. But I’ve also seen the incredible things that happen when they take that leap. You’re not alone in this.”

Her words gave me a sliver of courage. “Okay,” I said, nodding slowly. “I’ll think about it. Maybe… maybe I’ll bring it up with her.”

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s all I’m asking. Take your time, but don’t let fear hold you back from something that could bring you both closer.”

The days that followed were a blur of anxiety and anticipation. Dr. Collins’ words echoed in my mind, urging me to take the leap. Finally, one evening, as my girlfriend and I lounged on the couch, I decided it was time. My heart raced as I cleared my throat, my palms sweating.

“Hey,” I began, my voice unsteady, “can we talk about something?”

She turned to me, her brow furrowed slightly. “Of course. What’s up?”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to try, sexually. It’s… it’s a bit out there, and I’m scared to even bring it up, but I trust you, and I want to be honest with you.”

Her expression softened, and she took my hand in hers. “You can tell me anything, babe. What is it?”

I paused, my throat tight. “I’ve been fantasizing about… about you using a strap-on on me. I know it’s not typical, and I’ve been using prostate massage toys on my own, but I’d really like to experience it with you. If you’re willing, of course.”

The room fell silent, the weight of my words hanging in the air. I held my breath, my heart pounding in my chest, terrified of her reaction.

Then, to my astonishment, she smiled—a slow, knowing smile that sent a jolt of excitement through me. “You’ve been holding onto that, huh?” she teased, her voice gentle. “I had no idea, but… I’m flattered you trust me enough to share it.”

Relief washed over me, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of hope. “Really? You’re not… weirded out?”

She laughed, a warm, infectious sound. “Not at all. In fact, I’ve always had a bit of a dominant side, and the idea of taking control like that… it’s kind of hot.”

My breath caught in my throat. “You’re serious?”

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Dead serious. I’ve never done it before, but I’m more than willing to explore it with you. It’s about pleasure, right? And if it brings you joy, I’m all for it.”

I felt a rush of gratitude and desire, my fear melting away. “Thank you,” I whispered, pulling her into a tight hug. “I was so scared to bring it up, but I’m glad I did.”

She kissed my forehead, her lips soft against my skin. “Communication is everything, babe. And now that we’re on the same page, let’s make this happen.”

The following weekend, we set aside time to explore this new territory. I had purchased a strap-on harness and a realistic dildo, my heart racing as I laid them out on the bed. My girlfriend entered the room, her eyes widening at the sight.

“You really went all out, huh?” she teased, her voice laced with amusement.

I shrugged, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. “I wanted it to be perfect for us.”

She smiled, walking over to me and taking my hands in hers. “It already is perfect, because we’re doing this together. But before we start, I want you to know that I’m in control tonight. You’re going to submit to me, and I’m going to give you the pleasure you’ve been craving.”

Her words sent a shiver down my spine, my body already responding to her dominance. “Yes, ma’am,” I murmured, my voice submissive.

She guided me to the bed, pushing me gently onto my back. “Stay there,” she commanded, her tone firm yet playful.

I watched as she undressed, her body confident and alluring. She slipped into the harness, adjusting the straps until the dildo sat snugly against her hips. The sight of her standing there, her hazel eyes smoldering with desire, made my breath catch in my throat.

“You like what you see?” she asked, her voice low and husky.

I nodded, unable to speak, my cock already hardening at the sight of her.

She climbed onto the bed, straddling my chest, her weight pressing me into the mattress. “Good,” she purred, leaning down to kiss me deeply. Her lips were soft, her tongue teasing mine as she ground her hips against me, the dildo pressing firmly against my stomach.

“Turn over,” she whispered against my lips, her breath warm. “It’s time for your lesson in submission.”

I did as she commanded, flipping onto my stomach, my heart racing with anticipation. She positioned herself behind me, her hands roaming over my body, her touch both gentle and commanding.

“Relax,” she murmured, her lips brushing against my ear. “This is for your pleasure, and I’m going to make sure you enjoy every second of it.”

I felt her fingers trace the curve of my hips, her touch sending sparks of desire through me. She spread my cheeks, exposing my hole, and I shivered as her breath ghosted over my sensitive skin.

“You’re already wet,” she observed, her voice laced with satisfaction. “Eager, aren’t we?”

I moaned softly, my body trembling with anticipation. “Please,” I whispered, my voice desperate.

She chuckled, her fingers teasing my entrance, circling it slowly before pressing a single digit inside. I gasped at the intrusion, my body tightening around her.

“So tight,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire. “But we’re not rushing this. I want you to feel every inch of me.”

She withdrew her finger, replacing it with the tip of the dildo. I felt it press against me, the girth stretching me open, and I whimpered, my body arching slightly.

“Shh,” she soothed, her hand resting on my lower back. “Relax for me, baby. Let me in.”

I took a deep breath, focusing on her words, and slowly, she pushed the dildo inside me. The sensation was overwhelming—a mix of fullness and pleasure that made my toes curl.

“How does that feel?” she asked, her voice gentle but commanding.

“So good,” I moaned, my voice hoarse. “More, please.”

She smiled, her lips brushing against my shoulder as she began to move, thrusting slowly at first, giving me time to adjust to the size of the dildo. With each stroke, she went deeper, her hips snapping against my ass, the harness creaking with the force of her movements.

“You’re taking it so well,” she praised, her voice laced with pride. “Such a good boy for me.”

Her words sent a rush of pleasure through me, my body responding to her dominance. I felt the dildo hit my prostate, and I cried out, my cock leaking pre-cum onto the bed.

“That’s it,” she encouraged, her pace quickening. “Let go for me, baby. Feel every sensation.”

I moaned, my body tense with pleasure, my muscles quivering as she reamed my ass with the strap-on. The sensation was indescribable—a mix of fullness, pressure, and release that had me teetering on the edge of orgasm.

“Please,” I begged, my voice broken. “I’m close.”

She chuckled, her breath hot against my ear. “Not yet, baby. I’m not done with you.”

She reached around, her hand wrapping around my cock, stroking me in time with her thrusts. The combination of sensations was too much, my body overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Ava,” I gasped, my voice a plea. “I can’t hold on much longer.”

“Then don’t,” she commanded, her voice firm. “Let go for me, Carter. Give me your orgasm.”

Her words were my undoing. With a cry of release, I came, my body shaking as waves of pleasure washed over me. My cum shot onto the bed, my cock throbbing in her hand as she milked every last drop from me.

She continued to thrust, the dildo filling me completely, her dominance absolute. “That’s it,” she murmured, her voice satisfied. “Feel how good it is to surrender to me.”

I moaned, my body boneless, my mind reeling from the intensity of the experience. She slowed her movements, eventually withdrawing the dildo, leaving me feeling empty and satisfied.

She collapsed beside me, pulling me into her arms, her lips pressing against my sweat-dampened hair. “You did so well, baby,” she whispered, her voice filled with affection. “I’m proud of you for sharing this with me.”

I smiled, my heart full, my body still buzzing with pleasure. “Thank you for being so open to it. It meant the world to me.”

She kissed me softly, her hazel eyes meeting mine. “This is just the beginning, Carter. We’ve only scratched the surface of what we can explore together.”

I nodded, my excitement building at the thought of what the future held. “I can’t wait to see where this takes us.”

As we lay there, entwined in each other’s arms, I felt a sense of peace and fulfillment I hadn’t known was possible. Taking that leap of faith had been terrifying, but the reward—the pleasure, the connection, the trust—was worth every moment of fear. And as I drifted off to sleep, with Ava’s steady heartbeat lulling me into dreams, I knew that this was just the first chapter of our journey into the depths of desire and dominance.

The Purse Pet

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I stood in front of the mirror, my long dark blonde hair cascading over my shoulders as I adjusted the strap of my elegant black purse. The soft leather felt smooth against my fingertips, and I couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of what—or rather, who—was inside. My caller, a man with a peculiar obsession, had begged me to bring his fantasy to life. He wanted to be my purse pet, a tiny speck in the presence of his amazonian goddess. The idea of him being so small, so completely at my mercy, had intrigued me from the start. After all, I was Renata, a woman who thrived on adventure and the thrill of power. And today, I was about to give him the experience of a lifetime.

I slipped on my favorite pair of stiletto heels, the click-clack of the heels against the hardwood floor echoing through my apartment. My brown eyes sparkled with mischief as I imagined his tiny frame trembling inside the purse, his heart racing with anticipation. He had told me how much he adored The Incredible Shrinking Man, but it wasn’t invisibility he craved—it was the power dynamic, the sheer dominance of a woman who could control his every move. And I was more than happy to oblige.

“Ready, little one?” I whispered, my voice low and sultry, as I lifted the purse and slung it over my shoulder. I could almost feel his minuscule presence, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. “Today, you’re mine. My purse pet. My tiny, obedient worshipper.”

The purse was spacious, lined with soft velvet, and I had prepared it especially for him. A tiny cushion, a miniature water dish, and even a small mirror so he could watch me as I went about my day. I had thought of everything, ensuring his comfort—though not too much. After all, he was here to serve, to worship, and to feel the full weight of my dominance.

I stepped out of my apartment, the morning sun casting a golden glow over the city. The streets were bustling, but I moved with confidence, my heels clicking against the pavement. I could feel his eyes on me, even though he was hidden away. He was probably pressed against the side of the purse, his tiny body trembling as he took in the sight of his towering goddess. I smiled to myself, imagining his awe as he realized just how small he was in comparison to me.

My first stop was a café, a quaint little place with outdoor seating. I sat down at a table, the purse resting on my lap as I ordered a latte. The barista, a young man with a nervous smile, couldn’t help but glance at me as he took my order. I knew I looked good—my fitted dress hugged my curves, and my hair fell in loose waves down my back. But it wasn’t just my appearance that commanded attention; it was the aura of power I exuded, the knowledge that I held a tiny, adoring man in my purse.

As I waited for my drink, I opened the purse slightly, just enough to let in a sliver of light. “Thirsty, little one?” I murmured, tilting the miniature water dish toward him. I could hear his faint gasp, his tiny hands grasping the edge of the dish as he drank greedily. “That’s it,” I cooed. “Drink up. You’ll need your strength for later.”

The barista returned with my latte, his eyes widening as he noticed the purse. “Cute bag,” he commented, his voice shaky. I smirked, taking the cup from him. “Thanks,” I replied, my tone dismissive. “It’s one of a kind.”

I took a sip of my latte, savoring the warmth as I stirred the purse gently with my fingertips. “How’s my little pet doing in there?” I asked, my voice dripping with amusement. “Are you enjoying the view? Watching your goddess from your tiny little world?”

I could feel his presence, his adoration radiating through the purse. He was completely at my mercy, and the power I held over him was intoxicating. I closed the purse, resting it on the table as I sipped my coffee. The morning was just beginning, and I had so many plans for my tiny worshipper.

After finishing my latte, I stood up, the purse swinging gently at my side. I could feel his tiny body shifting inside, his breath coming in quick, excited puffs. “Next stop,” I announced, my voice laced with anticipation. “A little shopping. I think my purse pet needs a new toy.”

The department store was bustling, but I moved through the crowds with ease, my heels clicking against the polished floors. I made my way to the lingerie section, my eyes scanning the racks of silk and lace. I picked up a delicate black bra, holding it up to my chest as I imagined how it would look on me. “What do you think, little one?” I asked, my voice teasing. “Would you like to see your goddess in something like this?”

I could feel his excitement, his tiny body pressing against the side of the purse as he strained to see. I smirked, placing the bra back on the rack. “Not yet,” I whispered. “But soon. Very soon.”

I continued browsing, my fingers trailing over the fabrics, my mind racing with ideas. I wanted to tease him, to push the boundaries of his fantasy. I wanted him to feel small, insignificant, yet utterly adored. I was his giantess, his amazonian goddess, and he was my purse pet, completely under my control.

As I made my way to the checkout, I paused in front of a mirror, adjusting my purse on my shoulder. I caught a glimpse of myself—my long hair, my confident smile, the way my dress accentuated my curves. And then I imagined him, tiny and trembling, hidden away in the purse. The contrast was exhilarating, the power dynamic so raw and intense.

“Ready for the next part of our adventure, little one?” I asked, my voice low and seductive. “Because things are about to get a lot more interesting.”

I paid for my purchases and left the store, the purse still slung over my shoulder. The sun was high in the sky now, casting a warm glow over the city. I walked with purpose, my heels clicking against the pavement, my mind racing with the possibilities.

My next stop was a park, a quiet little oasis in the middle of the city. I found a bench beneath a shady tree and sat down, the purse resting on my lap. I opened it slightly, letting in a breeze that rustled the velvet lining. “Come out, little one,” I whispered, my voice gentle yet commanding. “It’s time for some fresh air.”

He emerged slowly, his tiny body trembling as he crawled out of the purse. He was even smaller than I had imagined, his skin pale and delicate, his eyes wide with awe as he looked up at me. “Goddess,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “You’re so beautiful. So powerful.”

I smirked, reaching down to stroke his tiny head with my fingertip. “That’s right, little one,” I purred. “I’m your giantess. Your amazonian goddess. And you’re my purse pet, completely at my mercy.”

He shivered at my touch, his adoration palpable. “Yes, Goddess,” he murmured. “I’m yours. Completely yours.”

I leaned back on the bench, the purse resting on my lap as I watched him explore his tiny world. He was so small, so fragile, yet so completely devoted to me. The power I held over him was intoxicating, the knowledge that I could crush him with a single touch, yet I chose to cherish him, to make him feel worshipped.

“Kneel before me, little one,” I commanded, my voice firm yet laced with affection. “Show your goddess the respect she deserves.”

He obeyed instantly, his tiny body folding into a kneeling position as he gazed up at me with adoration. “I worship you, Goddess,” he whispered. “You’re my everything. My giantess. My queen.”

I reached down, my fingers brushing his tiny shoulders as I leaned in close. “And you’re my purse pet,” I murmured, my breath warm against his skin. “My tiny, obedient worshipper. My plaything.”

He shivered again, his eyes closing as he savored my touch. “Yes, Goddess,” he breathed. “Use me. Control me. I’m yours to command.”

I smirked, my fingers trailing down his tiny body, teasing him, tantalizing him. “Oh, I will,” I promised, my voice dripping with anticipation. “But first, I think it’s time for a little lesson in worship.”

I lifted him gently, cradling him in my palm as I brought him closer to my face. His eyes widened as he realized my intent, his tiny body trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. “Goddess,” he whispered, his voice shaky. “What are you going to do?”

I smirked, my lips brushing his tiny form as I spoke. “I’m going to show you just how powerful your goddess is, little one. And I’m going to make you worship me in ways you’ve only dreamed of.”

With that, I brought him to my lips, my tongue darting out to trace the outline of his tiny body. He gasped, his hands grasping at my lips as I teased him, my tongue flicking against his skin. “Mmm,” I purred, my voice vibrating against him. “You taste so good, little one. So sweet. So obedient.”

He moaned, his tiny body arching in my palm as he surrendered to my touch. “Goddess,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. “Please. I need you. I need to worship you.”

I smirked, my fingers tightening around him as I leaned back, my purse still resting on my lap. “Patience, little one,” I teased. “The best is yet to come.”

I placed him back in the purse, the velvet lining soft against his skin as I closed it gently. “Rest now,” I whispered, my voice soothing. “But don’t get too comfortable. Because when I open this purse again, you’re going to worship me like you’ve never worshipped anyone before.”

He nodded, his tiny body trembling with anticipation as I stood up, the purse swinging gently at my side. The park was quiet, the sun warm on my skin as I walked away, my heels clicking against the pavement. I could feel his presence, his adoration radiating through the purse, and I smiled to myself, knowing that this was just the beginning.

My next stop was a private studio, a place I had rented for the afternoon. It was a spacious room with mirrors on one wall and a large bed in the center. The air was thick with anticipation as I entered, the purse still slung over my shoulder.

I placed the purse on the bed, opening it slowly to reveal my tiny worshipper. He was trembling, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement as he took in his surroundings. “Welcome to my playground, little one,” I purred, my voice low and seductive. “This is where the real fun begins.”

He nodded, his tiny body shaking as he crawled out of the purse. “Yes, Goddess,” he whispered. “I’m ready. Use me. Worship me. I’m yours.”

I smirked, stepping closer to the bed as I began to undress. My dress fell to the floor, revealing my lingerie—the delicate black bra and matching panties I had chosen earlier. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of me, his tiny body trembling with awe.

“On your knees, little one,” I commanded, my voice firm yet laced with affection. “It’s time to worship your goddess.”

He obeyed instantly, his tiny body folding into a kneeling position as he gazed up at me with adoration. “I worship you, Goddess,” he whispered. “You’re my everything. My giantess. My queen.”

I stepped closer, my heels clicking against the floor as I loomed over him. “That’s right, little one,” I purred. “Worship me. Adore me. Because I’m about to show you just how powerful your goddess can be.”

With that, I reached down, my fingers brushing his tiny body as I leaned in close. His eyes closed, his tiny hands grasping at my fingers as he surrendered to my touch. “Mmm,” I murmured, my voice vibrating against him. “You’re so small. So fragile. Yet so completely devoted to me.”

I brought him to my lips, my tongue darting out to trace the outline of his tiny body. He gasped, his hands grasping at my lips as I teased him, my tongue flicking against his skin. “Goddess,” he moaned, his voice hoarse with desire. “Please. I need you. I need to worship you.”

I smirked, my fingers tightening around him as I leaned back, my purse still resting on the bed. “Then worship me, little one,” I commanded, my voice firm yet laced with affection. “Show your goddess the respect she deserves.”

He nodded, his tiny body trembling as he reached up, his hands brushing against my lingerie. “I worship you, Goddess,” he whispered, his voice filled with adoration. “You’re my everything. My giantess. My queen.”

I smirked, my fingers trailing down his tiny body, teasing him, tantalizing him. “Oh, I will,” I promised, my voice dripping with anticipation. “But first, I think it’s time for a little lesson in worship.”

What followed was a blur of pleasure and power, of dominance and submission. I used him, controlled him, made him worship me in ways he had only dreamed of. He was my purse pet, my tiny, obedient worshipper, and I was his giantess, his amazonian goddess. Together, we pushed the boundaries of his fantasy, exploring the depths of his desire as I showed him just how powerful I could be.

By the end of the afternoon, he was exhausted, his tiny body trembling with satisfaction as he lay in the purse, his eyes closed in bliss. I smirked, stroking his tiny head with my fingertip as I leaned in close. “You’ve been a very good purse pet, little one,” I whispered, my voice gentle yet commanding. “And I’m so proud of you.”

He smiled, his tiny body relaxing as he savored my words. “Thank you, Goddess,” he murmured. “You’re my everything. My giantess. My queen.”

I closed the purse, resting it on the bed as I stood up, my heels clicking against the floor. The studio was quiet, the air thick with the scent of sweat and desire. I had given him the experience of a lifetime, and in return, he had worshipped me like no other.

As I left the studio, the purse still slung over my shoulder, I couldn’t help but smile. The day had been perfect, a testament to the power of fantasy and the thrill of dominance. And as for my tiny purse pet? He was exactly where he belonged—hidden away in my elegant bag, completely at my mercy, and utterly, hopelessly in love with his amazonian goddess.

Uninhibited Pleasures

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I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in anticipation as I found myself in the center of a heated threesome with my boyfriend Mark and his friend Leo. The air was thick with desire, and I could feel the weight of their gazes on my body. At 53, I still felt like a woman in her prime, my short blonde hair framing my pretty face, and my blue eyes sparkling with mischief. I had always been playful, especially when it came to younger men, and tonight was no exception.

Mark, a tall, muscular man with dark hair and piercing green eyes, stood behind me, his hands roaming over my curves. He was my partner, my lover, and the one who had introduced me to the world of uninhibited pleasure. His friend Leo, on the other hand, was a lean, athletic man with chiseled features and a mischievous grin. He had always been attracted to me, and tonight, Mark had decided to make his fantasies come true.

As I knelt on the soft sheets, my B-cup breasts pressed against the mattress, I felt Mark’s strong hands grip my hips, pulling me back against him. His thick cock was already hard, pressing against my ass, and I moaned softly, my body aching with anticipation. Leo, meanwhile, had positioned himself beneath me, his dark eyes locked onto my pussy. I could feel his hot breath on my clit, and my thighs trembled as he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to tease me.

“Oh fuck,” I gasped, my head falling back as Mark thrust deeply into me from behind. His cock stretched my walls, filling me completely, and I felt my pussy clench around him, milking him for more. Leo’s tongue, meanwhile, was working magic on my clit, flicking and circling, sending waves of pleasure crashing through my body. The combination of being fucked hard and having my clit licked was overwhelming, and I moaned loudly, my nails digging into the sheets.

“That’s it, baby,” Mark growled, his voice rough with desire. “Take my cock, take it all.”

I felt him slam into me, his hips snapping forward as he pounded my pussy with relentless force. My breasts bounced with each thrust, my nipples hard and aching for attention. Leo, sensing my need, reached up, his fingers brushing against my sensitive peaks, teasing and tormenting me.

“Oh god, yes,” I cried, my body on fire. “Fuck me, Mark, fuck me hard.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, his cock pistoning in and out of my cunt with brutal force. I could feel my pussy juices flowing freely, coating his shaft as he reamed me. Leo’s tongue, meanwhile, was still working its magic, his mouth sucking and licking, driving me wild.

As the pleasure built, I felt my body begin to tremble, my muscles tightening around Mark’s cock. I was close, so close, and I could sense that Mark was too. His thrusts became more urgent, more desperate, as he chased his own release.

“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his voice thick with lust. “I’m gonna fill your cunt with my hot cum.”

The thought of his cum flooding my pussy sent me over the edge, my body convulsing as I screamed out in ecstasy. My pussy clenched around Mark’s cock, milking him for every last drop, and I felt his cum explode deep within me, hot and thick.

As my orgasm subsided, I felt Mark’s cock twitch and spasm, his cum continuing to pulse into my cunt. Leo, sensing our release, leaned up, his mouth capturing one of my breasts, his tongue swirling around my nipple.

“Mmm, that was amazing,” I sighed, my body still trembling with aftershocks.

Mark withdrew his cock, his cum leaking from my pussy as he moved away. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but also incredibly aroused. Leo, meanwhile, had moved to kneel beside me, his eyes locked onto my glistening cunt.

“Your turn,” Mark said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Show us what you can do, Meredith.”

I smirked, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of returning the favor. Slowly, I pushed myself up, my knees creaking as I dropped to the floor, my eyes locked onto Mark’s and Leo’s cocks. They were both hard, throbbing with anticipation, and I felt my mouth water at the sight.

“Which one do you want first?” I purred, reaching out to stroke Mark’s shaft.

“Surprise me,” he said, leaning back on the bed, his eyes half-lidded with desire.

I didn’t need to be told twice, my mouth opening wide as I took Mark’s cock into my mouth. He was thick, his shaft filling my mouth completely, and I moaned around him, my tongue swirling around his head. Leo, meanwhile, had moved to stand beside me, his cock bobbing in front of my face.

I reached out, grasping his shaft, stroking him gently as I bobbed my head on Mark’s cock. I could feel Mark’s hands tangling in my short blonde hair, guiding my mouth up and down his shaft. Leo, sensing my attention, leaned in, his mouth capturing mine in a deep kiss.

Our tongues dueled, tasting each other as I sucked Mark’s cock. I could feel Leo’s breath on my neck, his hands roaming over my body, and I moaned into Mark’s mouth, my pussy aching for attention.

“Fuck, you’re good,” Mark groaned, his hips bucking as I deep-throated him.

I smiled around his cock, my eyes locked onto Leo’s. He was watching me, his eyes dark with desire, and I felt a surge of power, knowing that I was pleasing them both.

I released Mark’s cock with a pop, turning my attention to Leo. His shaft was leaking pre-cum, his head glistening with anticipation, and I licked my lips, savoring the taste of him. Slowly, I took him into my mouth, my tongue swirling around his head as I bobbed up and down.

Leo groaned, his hands gripping the sheets as I sucked him. Mark, meanwhile, had moved to kneel behind me, his hands roaming over my body, his mouth nuzzling my neck.

“Mmm, you taste so good,” I murmured, my mouth full of Leo’s cock.

He moaned, his hips bucking as I sucked him, his hands tangling in my hair. Mark, sensing my need, reached around, his fingers slipping into my pussy, teasing my clit.

“Oh fuck,” I gasped, my mouth still full of Leo’s cock. “That feels amazing.”

Mark smiled, his fingers circling my clit as I bobbed my head on Leo’s shaft. I could feel my pussy juices flowing freely, coating Mark’s fingers as he played with me. Leo, meanwhile, was thrusting into my mouth, his cock pistoning in and out with urgent force.

“I’m close,” he groaned, his voice thick with lust. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”

I moaned around his cock, my eyes locked onto Mark’s. He was watching me, his eyes dark with desire, and I felt a surge of excitement, knowing that I was about to taste Leo’s cum.

Leo’s body tensed, his cock throbbing in my mouth as he came. His cum exploded onto my tongue, hot and thick, and I moaned, savoring the taste of him. Mark, sensing Leo’s release, leaned in, his mouth capturing mine in a deep kiss.

Our tongues dueled, tasting Leo’s cum as I swallowed him down. Mark’s fingers, meanwhile, were still playing with my clit, sending waves of pleasure crashing through my body.

As Leo’s orgasm subsided, I released his cock with a pop, turning my attention to Mark. His shaft was hard, throbbing with anticipation, and I licked my lips, savoring the taste of Leo’s cum.

“Your turn,” I purred, reaching out to grasp Mark’s cock.

He smirked, leaning back on the bed, his eyes half-lidded with desire. “Show me what you can do, baby.”

I didn’t need to be told twice, my mouth opening wide as I took him into my mouth. He was thick, his shaft filling my mouth completely, and I moaned around him, my tongue swirling around his head.

Mark groaned, his hands tangling in my hair as I sucked him. Leo, meanwhile, had moved to kneel beside me, his hands roaming over my body, his mouth nuzzling my neck.

The night was raw, sweaty, and unapologetically filthy, exactly how I loved it. I felt like a goddess, worshipped by two handsome men, and I reveled in the attention. My mouth worked its magic on Mark’s cock, my tongue swirling and stroking, driving him wild.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” he groaned, his hips bucking as I deep-throated him.

I smiled around his cock, my eyes locked onto Leo’s. He was watching me, his eyes dark with desire, and I felt a surge of power, knowing that I was pleasing them both.

As the night wore on, we explored every fantasy, every desire. I was fucked in every position, my pussy and ass stretched to their limits. I sucked cock, tasted cum, and screamed out in ecstasy as I came time and time again.

Mark and Leo were insatiable, their cocks hard and ready for more. They took turns fucking me, their shafts pistoning in and out of my cunt with relentless force. I was a mess, my body glistening with sweat, my hair tangled and wild.

At one point, Mark held me down, his cock thrusting into my pussy as Leo knelt behind me, his cock pressing against my asshole. I gasped, my eyes widening as he pushed inside, stretching me to my limits.

“Oh fuck,” I cried, my body trembling as Leo reamed my ass. “That feels amazing.”

Mark groaned, his cock pistoning in and out of my cunt as Leo fucked my ass. I was being double penetrated, my body filled to the brim with cock, and I screamed out in ecstasy, my pussy juices flowing freely.

The sensation was overwhelming, my body convulsing as I came. My pussy clenched around Mark’s cock, milking him for every last drop, as Leo’s cock thrust deep into my ass, filling me completely.

As our orgasms subsided, we collapsed onto the bed, our bodies glistening with sweat, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. Mark and Leo were spent, their cocks soft and leaking cum, as I lay between them, my body still trembling with aftershocks.

“That was fucking amazing,” Mark sighed, his hand roaming over my body.

Leo nodded, his eyes locked onto mine. “You’re a goddess, Meredith. A fucking sex goddess.”

I smirked, feeling a surge of satisfaction at their words. “I aim to please.”

As we lay there, our bodies entwined, I felt a sense of contentment wash over me. The night had been raw, sweaty, and unapologetically filthy, exactly how I loved it. I had been fucked, sucked, and reamed, my body pushed to its limits, and I had loved every minute of it.

Mark and Leo were still recovering, their breaths slowly returning to normal, as I pushed myself up, my eyes locked onto their cocks. They were soft, but still leaking cum, and I licked my lips, savoring the taste of them.

“One more round?” I purred, reaching out to stroke Mark’s shaft.

They both groaned, their eyes half-lidded with desire. “We’re not done with you yet, baby,” Mark said, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

I smirked, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of more. “Bring it on.”

And with that, we launched into another round of passionate, uninhibited sex. The night was young, and we had only just begun to explore the depths of our desires. As I screamed out in ecstasy, my body convulsing with pleasure, I knew that this was a night I would never forget.

Nostalgic Pleasure

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I lay on my bed, my mind drifting back to a time when life was simpler, and my pleasures were raw and unfiltered. I was Melissa, a woman of 44 years, with brown hair that cascaded in loose waves down my back and brown eyes that had witnessed both joy and sorrow. My body, though marked by time, remained fantastic—a testament to years of care and a playful spirit that refused to age. My face, pretty and expressive, could shift from kindness to cruelty in an instant, a true switch capable of dominating or submitting, depending on the whim of the moment. Today, however, I was neither dominatrix nor submissive. I was a woman lost in nostalgia, yearning for a taste of the past.

It started with a memory—a vivid, almost tangible recollection of my teenage years. Back then, my sexual exploration was a secret world, a realm of discovery hidden from prying eyes. My go-to method of pleasure was simple yet profoundly satisfying: humping a pillow. Not just any pillow, mind you, but a special one. It was soft yet firm, perfectly shaped to cradle my body as I ground against it. I’d straddle it, my hips moving in a rhythmic dance, the friction building until I climaxed in a rush of youthful ecstasy. That pillow had been my silent companion, a witness to my early sexual awakenings, tucked away after each session like a cherished secret.

Years had passed since I’d last indulged in that hands-free pleasure. Life had intervened—relationships, careers, other methods of satisfaction. But today, as I lounged on my bed, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. I felt an irresistible urge to revisit that old ritual, to reconnect with the girl I once was. I rose from the bed, my bare feet padding softly against the wooden floor, and made my way to the closet. There, tucked away in a corner, was the pillow. It was a bit worn now, the fabric faded and the stuffing slightly lumpy, but it was still familiar. I pulled it out, holding it close to my chest, and smiled. It felt like reuniting with an old friend.

Back in my bedroom, I positioned the pillow on the bed, its soft surface inviting. I stripped off my clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a careless heap. My body, though older, still felt alive—my skin smooth, my curves inviting. I climbed onto the bed, straddling the pillow as I had done so many times before. The sensation was immediate. The softness of the fabric against my skin, the way it molded to my body as I settled atop it, sent a shiver of anticipation through me. I closed my eyes, letting the memories flood in, and began to move.

My hips swayed slowly at first, my movements tentative as I reacquainted myself with the rhythm. The pillow seemed to remember me, too, providing the perfect resistance as I ground against it. My breath quickened, my nipples hardening as the friction built between my thighs. I moaned softly, the sound filling the quiet room, and increased the pace. My hands gripped the bedsheets, my fingers digging into the fabric as I lost myself in the moment. The pillow was firm enough to support me, yet soft enough to yield to my movements, creating a sensation that was both familiar and exhilarating.

I tilted my pelvis, angling my body to maximize the contact. My clit, swollen and sensitive, rubbed against the pillow with each thrust, sending sparks of pleasure through my core. I bit my lip, my eyes fluttering open as I gazed down at the pillow, now a blur beneath me. My hair fell around my face, framing my flushed cheeks and parted lips. I was no longer a 44-year-old woman; I was a teenager again, discovering the joys of her body for the first time.

The rhythm of my movements became frantic, my hips pistoning up and down as I chased the orgasm building within me. My moans grew louder, more desperate, each sound a testament to the intensity of my pleasure. Sweat began to form on my skin, glistening in the soft light of the room, as my body worked in perfect harmony with the pillow. I was drowning in sensation, my senses overwhelmed by the nostalgia and the raw, unfiltered pleasure of the moment.

Then, it happened. The orgasm crashed over me like a wave, powerful and unrestrained. My body stiffened, my back arching as I cried out, my voice echoing in the stillness of the room. My cunt clenched around the pillow, my juices flowing freely as I rode out the climax. It was a hands-free orgasm, pure and unadulterated, a reminder of the simplicity and intensity of my younger days. I collapsed onto the pillow, my chest heaving as I gasped for breath, a satisfied smile spreading across my face.

For a moment, I lay there, my body still buzzing with the aftermath of my release. The pillow felt warm beneath me, almost alive, as if it, too, had shared in my pleasure. I ran my hands over its surface, tracing the familiar contours, and felt a surge of affection for this inanimate object that had brought me so much joy. It was more than just a pillow; it was a symbol of my sexual awakening, a silent witness to my journey of self-discovery.

As I lay there, my mind wandered to the years that had passed since I’d last used this method of pleasure. I thought about the relationships I’d had, the lovers I’d shared my body with, and the ways my sexuality had evolved. But in that moment, I realized that there was something uniquely satisfying about this hands-free, pillow-humping pleasure. It was a solo act, a celebration of my own body and desires, untainted by the expectations or needs of another. It was raw, it was real, and it was mine.

I rolled off the pillow, my body relaxed and sated, and lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling. A sense of peace washed over me, mingled with a renewed sense of self. I felt nostalgic, yes, but also rejuvenated. It had been a lovely reunion with a method I’d once cherished, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last time I revisited that old, familiar pleasure.

With a contented sigh, I reached out and pulled the pillow close, hugging it to my chest. It was more than just a tool for pleasure; it was a piece of my history, a reminder of the girl I once was and the woman I had become. I closed my eyes, letting the memories and sensations linger, and smiled. It had been a beautiful journey, and I was grateful to have taken this trip down memory lane.

As I drifted off to sleep, the pillow cradled in my arms, I knew that this wouldn’t be the last time I indulged in this nostalgic pleasure. It was a part of me, a piece of my sexual identity, and I wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. The pillow humping, the hands-free orgasms, the raw, unfiltered pleasure—it was all a part of who I was, and I intended to savor it for as long as I could.

And so, I slept, the pillow by my side, dreaming of the past and the pleasures yet to come. It had been a lovely reunion, a reminder of the simplicity and intensity of my younger days, and I knew that this wouldn’t be the end of my journey with this old, familiar pleasure. It was just the beginning.