My Dyke Dick
This story is written by guest author, Maggie Morton.
When I was in the beginners class, Dyke 101, my first girlfriend introduced me to the joy that is the strap-on. She only wore it a few times before I took it over completely, and she only complained once. These days, I’m always the one wearing the dick in the family, and tonight was no different. I tucked my semi-firm silicone cock into my pants, buckled my belt, and straightened my tie. Tonight I was going out, going out on a hunt for some hot young thing to fuck.
I felt it resting against my leg as I walked into my favorite gay bar- heavy, smooth, comforting. It never failed to make me feel powerful. Fuck your patriarchal assumptions, a dick makes me feel tough, but I’m still very much a woman when I’m wearing one, still very much a woman as it’s plunged deep inside a woman’s cunt or ass. I am no man when I am fucking a woman, I am just the one who always comes out on top, the one who decides when and where and how the other woman will be fucked.
I knew when I saw her that she would be the one this night. She stood at the bar, sipping her drink-eyes with an abundance of thick, lovely lashes, a short, short dress, long, luscious ruby-colored hair. The better to control you with, my dear. I was picturing my fingers flowing through it part-way, then gripping on tight and becomming the one in command, “No, I’m the one who decides where your head will go, and what your mouth will touch, and what it will do.”
I approached her, and knew instantly that I had her. She was obviously a little shy, the submissive type I so adore. We made the requisite small talk, and then she said maybe I was right, maybe it was a little hot in there and we should get some fresh air. She followed me out of the club, out into a side-street, empty but for one car, no one in sight.
“Get on your knees,” I said, and she was on them in an instant. I unzipped my pants, and she widened her lovely eyes as I pulled out my thick, stiff six inches. “Suck it,” I ordered, and she took it in her hand, and wrapped her lips around it. I reached down and turned on the vibrator I had attached to it, feeling the lovely buzz it caused. I would be coming in no time at all. She slid her lips up and down its length, and then I took hold of her head, took control, wrapped my fingers in that lovely hair and started to fuck her pretty little lips.
My dick was soon slick with her spit, a little drool running down her chin, and don’t think for a second I stopped and let her tidy herself up. I felt my orgasm begin to build, and then I decided I wanted to come while I was fucking her. I pulled out of her mouth, reached down and wiped the drool off her face. I slid my hand into her shirt and smeared it all over her right tit, then pinched her nipple, hard, and the brave little thing only let out a small gasp. I hoped that she wouldn’t stay that quiet once my dick was in her.
I walked her over to the car and she climbed up onto the hood, facing me, then slid up her skirt. She had obviously come prepared for this. She wasn’t wearing any panties, her pussy just staring me right in the face as soon as her skirt came up, no annoying cloth in between me and her very juicy cunt. It was slick with arousal, and I was glad that her blowjob hadn’t just been doing it for me. She was so wet that I knew I could just shove it in and she wouldn’t make a peep, so that’s what I did, but first, first I teased her a little, sliding it up and down her slit, almost putting it in, then pulling back and slapping it against the lovely, soaking wet flesh. Then, finally, I gave in to temptation and shoved it home, and I knew from the sound she made that she wasn’t going to complain with my roughness. Instead, I got an “Oh, God” out of her, followed by a delicious, girly moan. Women truly do make the loveliest sounds when you’re fucking them.
I was very close by then, and though it would’ve been nice if she came too, I didn’t want to concentrate too much on her pleasure-that was not what this was about. This was about me being in control, on top, the one calling each and every shot. But I knew she was enjoying herself from all those delicious little moans and gasps and grunts, coming with each and every rough thrust into her hole. I was very close by then, and then it wasn’t a question of how close I was but of how hard I was going to come, and how long, and I burst through that lovely edge between being about to come and actually being right in the middle of a fucking intense orgasm. Because that’s what this one was, and I registered, barely, that she was coming too. I would have known anyway, from the splash of ejaculate that was still shooting out of her when my orgasm ended. She thrashed about, hot as hell, and I knew that I’d have to wash my pants when I got home. But first I might hold them to my face and inhale the lovely scent of her cunt, of her juices, and maybe, probably, I would get myself off while picturing all that we had done that night in the alley.
Maggie Morton lives with her lovely partner and their eccentric Japanese Bobtail in Northern California. Her story “Unexpected Gifts” is published by Dreamspinner Press, and her writing appears in D.L. King’s Spank! anthology.