Sadomasochistic Soliloquy (I Fu#ked Her With My Pen)
She said she wanted to try something different, so I fucked her with my pen. I grabbed a ballpoint and started scribbling on her inner thigh. I believe the ink was blue, but in this dim light I couldn’t tell—and truthfully, it really didn't matter. I treated her flesh like a blank canvas and etched out hieroglyphics. This wasn't graffiti I was creating, it was something I wanted to last her a lifetime.
As my words got longer and more complex, I filled every inch of her succulent left thigh until there was nowhere left to write, so I continued on her right side, gently tracing her hip bone. I felt like a tattoo artist blessed with the skill of Picasso and the steady hand of Michael Angelo. My words were a pleasurable art, and every syllable I wrote made her spine tingle. Each verb made her vibrate. A mere noun could make her tremble. My sentences overpowered her senses, and my paragraphs made her knees buckle and collapse.
Finally, her hips and thighs were covered with my words. Powerful, Beautiful, Queen, Love, Chocolate, Sensual, Tight, Good, Bangin', Sweet, Nectar, Lust and even my own name accented with an apostrophe S layered her skin. Alas, there was nowhere left to write except for this manicured lawn above. Apparently someone had left the sprinklers on, because this fertile ground was soaking wet. This troubled me none, and I continued with my work.
First, I wrote around the lawn, careful not to disrupt the bushes. And as words like Now, Ready, Enter, Thrust, Stroke and Deeper circled her nether region, I had no choice but to leave my mark within the foliage. I wrote and wrote, working the stroke of my pen with ease. Eventually I reached this small mountain, which I later discovered was an inactive volcano ready to erupt. I climbed to its apex and scrawled my full government name in Japanese calligraphy across the rim. I had only taken a few classes, so of course I had to write my name over and over again until each curve of my stroke was perfect.
My vigorous pen strokes must have stimulated the lava beneath the surface because I began to feel a surge of energy rising up to my fingertips. As this rush of heat came rumbling towards me, I assumed it would singe my fingertips but the fluid was more soothing than I could have imagined and I basked in its beauty like a gentle summer rain. Although drenched to my elbows, I focused on my words and just kept writing. She said she wanted to try something different, so I fucked her with my pen.
Fin!
Can your pen do that? Speak your piece…
**P.S. Props to my man Gardy for the main pic.
*****UPDATE: VIDEO BONUS****
Naughty By nature - Written On Ya Kitten Remix
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