The moment I awoke, I knew it was a Sunday. I knew it was a Sunday, because I’d woken up with a throbbing erection; another Saturday evening having passed, filled with me masturbating over my new obsession, Meadow. Having still denied myself an orgasm after waking, wanking furiously over her Instagram photos, I finally got out of bed, my dick stiff in my boxers as I shaved, showered and spritzed myself with supermarket cologne.
Meadow Sparrowhawk Forestpeak was a lanky, dutch girl born Amber Van Hassel, and, like the majority of people within the city, was an ex-pat. In the fortnight since we’d matched on Tinder (after a week of me furiously swiping), we’d met up once before— a low-key date, that started in a nondescript, neon-lit wine bar and ended back at her place, with my cock prying her arsehole open, using nothing more than beer-laced, sticky spit as lubrication. Meadow was your run-of-the-mill, do-gooder, vegan hippy type— hairy pits and hairier bits, her compact body covered in gaudy hand-poked tattoos, with a pair of small puffy breasts that would have fit perfectly into martini glasses, and a pussy with once-in-a-life-time lips and a phallic clit: elongated and built for sucking sessions that could put your tongue and jaw out of commission. In any case, the moment I awoke, I knew it was a Sunday. What I realised only moments later, however, was that I was late. Very fucking late.
By the time I reached her apartment, a lofty highrise above a kebab shop on a busy boulevard in Mitte, I was flustered. I rang the bell and she let me up, with me running five flights to get to her ornate, palace-like front door. She opened the door, leaning on the frame in the cat-like way that she seemed to do everything.
“You’re late,” she said sleepily, with a nasal, Dutch accent, itching her chest, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she invited me in.
“I know,” I replied, walking into her kitchen, pouring myself a tumbler of water, and admiring her semi-naked body in the morning light. “There was a problem with the u-Bahn.” She nodded and then shrugged.
Even there in the light, I wanted to suck on her breasts; to tease her bushy cunt, only shielded by the thin layer of black yoga pants, until she creamed over my mouth and lips. The first time that we’d hooked up, she’d been putty in my hands— a submissive ewe, destined to have her tiny, nimble body dominated by a selfish ram, and all I wanted to do was fuck her again until she either tapped out or cried herself onward with the act that her holes so deeply craved. Lighting a roll-up, she took a long drag.
“No,” she began, exhaling, “You’re late-late.”
“Late… late?”
“Yep.”
Turning her back towards me, she pulled down her yoga pants to reveal her right arse cheek. The peachy, perfectly round and succulent ball of milky flesh was covered in large red hand prints. All down her thighs, her flesh was rouge; the aftermath of someone who’d exploited her submission, and by the looks of it, had a great time. I tried to get my words out, but she cut me.
“I hooked up with a guy this morning. From Tinder. He was good. Like, really good. Y’know… I didn’t know if you were coming over, still. I kinda got bored of waiting. You know how it is, right?”
I sat there, mouth slightly ajar, my mind rushing with frustration, confusion, and jealousy. Sure, I was an hour and a half late, but she was my hookup— the best fuck that I’d had in years, maybe even ever. My cock, by her own admission, had left her so sore that she had to work from home for three days after we last fucked. My tongue, worming its way into her sweaty butthole had helped make her squirt the most she’d ever done, apparently. And here I was, having made a pilgrimage to her, yet not being good enough for her to wait for. I wanted to go home.
“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I did text you. You know— on my way.”
Meadow shrugged, immaturely.
“Well, I didn’t get it.”
An awkward silence filled the air. Getting to my feet, I made my way toward the front door. Meadow outstretched an arm in the doorward, stopping me.
“Where are you going?” she asked me, with a smile that presented two glinting gold-capped teeth.
“Home? If you’re not going to fuck me, then I’m better off going back to bed. I’m still hungover from Friday.”
Meadow shook her head.
“You’re going nowhere. There’s something that you need to do first.”
Holding my hand, she lead me into her room, a small, overcrowded, yet orderly space, surrounded by stacks of tall books and plants, trailing down from the ceiling. Laying back in her large, vermillion bed, she slipped off her yoga pants, revealing the hairy, trim pussy that I’d dreamt about so much over the past week. Even from where I was standing, I was gifted its scent and strong musk; Meadow only showered about twice a week at best, and so her natural fragrance of warm sweaty flesh, harsh urine, and the faintest note of lavender (on account of all the incense she burned), sailed through the warm air towards me. As she parted her legs wider for me, though, I could smell and see something else. Rubbing her clit in slow circles, as she played with the large tuft of bushy public hair covering her vulva, she spread her pussy lips with her fingers, revealing one of the largest, messiest creampies that I think I’d ever seen. My instant erection surprised me, as my mouth filled with saliva. I was mesmerised by the fertile mess that someone had made inside her cunt, the same cunt that had made me addicted to her entirety, craving her like a fiend scheming for his next fix. She beckoned me closer with an outstretched finger. Never in my life had I submitted, and here I was; my sexuality rearranged in a heartbeat, my mouth ready to serve and worship her.
“Come on, big boy,” she said, drawing me closer. “Come and clean me up. Come and clean my sore, sticky pussy.”
For reasons I couldn’t understand, I was the most aroused I’d been in my life. My needy cock was so erect that it was throbbing painfully against my zipper. Precum was slowly syphoning itself up my urethra, burning as it leaked out of me, in a gradual flow. Racing towards her, I grabbed her thighs, about to lick her unwashed, fucked pussy clean, when suddenly the base of her foot met with my face, with a thwack. She giggled to herself, pleased.
“Just kidding. You didn’t think I’d make it that easy for you, did you? Lick my feet first.” As I hesitated, she pushed harder against my face. Her feet, like her body, were unwashed; dust-covered and didn’t smell great.
“That’s right, baby. Do it.”
Opening my mouth, I let Meadow slip her dainty, size four feet and toes into my gob and over my tongue, watching her writhe in pleasure as I licked each of her tiny digits, sucking them keenly. The squelch of her pussy just above my nose, turned me on, even more, watching as a suction-backed, silicone dildo penetrated her, stretching her open. The stranger’s semen and her own juices glossed over it, her large, trailing pussy lips, slicked with a monsoon of primal pleasure.
“Ugh, that guy fucked me so fucking good this morning,” she moaned, working the silicone cock deeper inside her cunt. “So fucking deep. Much better than you. He had me bent over, stretching my needy hole like a virgin on prom night. ”
I lapped up her story, sucking her toes, and licking her soles and arches, while I watched her masturbate.
“He didn’t even want to cum inside me, but I begged him to, until he slid his condom off and filled me up, nice and good. You like that idea, don’t you?”
My mouth full, I nodded slowly. Embarrassment panged in my chest, but arousal flowed in my crotch.
Pulling her satisfied soles away from my mouth, she removed the plastic cock from her pussy, and trailed it over my lips. The unmistakable, fresh scent of semen was intertwined with her own layers of thick white cream and the strong taste of piss. I licked her dildo; an act that made her smile with admiration, before she abruptly removed it from my face, and getting on all fours, arched her arsehole towards my face.
“Late boys don’t get to eat or fuck pussy. Late boys are clean-up boys. Will you be late again?” Something inside me that I didn’t know existed, compelled me to respond in the way I did.
“No Mistress Meadow.”
She giggled to herself, sadistically.
“Oh good. No clean my butthole, like the pathetic, bitch baby you truly are.”
Completely submissive, I began tonguing the ribbed, puckered skin of her anus, trailing my soured tongue over her unwashed ring. Instantly, she began panting, playing with her throbbing, erect clitoris; the pink mini-cock sending her body into a gradual rise of pleasure, while I fucked her tight rear with my mouth. With a free hand, she pulled my face deep between her cheeks, my tongue firmly and deeply in her arse. For a good thirty seconds I struggled to breathe; a struggle that only seemed to make my circumcised penis shudder with happiness. The moment we detached, and I gasped for air, steadying myself, my head dizzy, she pulled apart her cheeks, and released a short gust of air.
“Sniff my butthole. I know you’re so hard for my farts, aren’t you? Bitch, baby-boy.” Again, she released fragrant gas from her hole, hitting my nose, and making me gag slightly, as I inhaled her most natural aroma. Burying my nose into the gorge of her butt, she held me there, farting indiscriminately, amused at having made her once dominant booty call a literal, submissive booty addict. I couldn’t hold it anymore. With her nauseous, yet addictive gas in my airways, I unzipped myself and started to masturbate. Feeling the vibration against the bed, she stopped instantly.
“Oh no,” she started, turning over and standing, guiding me onto her bed. “You don’t get to masturbate until I’ve said so. I’m still not finished with you”.
Laying me square in the centre of the bed, she slapped my cock, making me yelp with pain. Looking down at me, she climbed over, positioning her hairy, sticky holes over my face; cum, female and male, trailing down her leg, dangling over me in translucent goops.
“I’ve got one last surprise for you, bitch boy,” she sang sadistically, lowering herself directly over my mouth. “Then you can cum. Is that understood?”
“Yes. Mistress Meadow.”
“Erm— I can’t quite fucking hear you. Is that understood?”
I said it louder, as loud as I could with a vagina dangling over my face. Satisfied, she arched herself, as I waited. Suddenly, before I could realise what was happening, a warm stream of urine rushed from between her furry lips, dousing my open mouth with her amber nectar. Down it went, filling my mouth, drenching my lips, face, and nose, as she sighed in relief, completely letting go. Globs of the creampie that had been buried deep inside her hours earlier trailed out, with me swallowing as much as I could of it as I could, my throbbing cock begging for the release of an orgasm in the midst of perverse, yet ecstatic pleasure. Finishing, her bed and mattress soaked, she wiped her pussy on me and clambered off.
Standing, proud of herself, she instructed me to wank. Sliding my jeans off, I tugged my cock roughly, five times exactly before it erupted; three long, thick spurts shooting high into the air, landing on my t-shirt. She laughed to herself with pride and disbelief while lighting a roll-up, as I lay there in shame, doused in piss, my jaw sore and tongue knackered, layered with the bizarre, horrible aftertastes that although, in some ways made me want to drink a pint of mouthwash, in others, made me wish they’d never disappear. I had never had an orgasm as satisfying; never had an experience as liberating. I was changed forever, and as we made out on the balcony afterward, sharing each other’s kisses and juices with eager tongues, as the city chattered and beeped below us, we knew that this session was not going to be the last time that I worshipped her so deeply, so devoutly and so intimately.
Opening the front door to see me out, we kissed one last time, her bare, tiny breasts pressed against my sweaty T-shirt as she snaked a tattooed hand down her yoga pants. Fingering herself, slowly and deeply, Meadow fed me one last taste of her flooded, sticky, musky cunt, before I wandered home to sleep off my morning of perfect, perverted devotion.
