Disclaimer: If you are under 18 or otherwise legally restricted from viewing material of an erotic nature GO AWAY! If you are offended by sexually explicit material why are you here in the first place?

(c) 2003 Cenobyte
(Fm, femdom, oral)

Shooting my Ex 

As usual, she hadn't called until she needed something, and as usual I complied.  There's a twisted kind of dance between a couple who have been together and are trying to maintain civil a relationship afterwards.  There's never really a breakup that is entirely mutual, deep down there's always one person who feels a sense of loss and regret not shared by the other.  It's a fact of life and is just something that has to be accepted, but when you're the one still harbouring those feelings it can become very easy to fall into a situation you're better off not in.

If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm the "harbouring feelings" half of this particular failed relationship.  Despite a girlfriend I love and everything else, whenever she calls I come running, and I still fantasize about her sometimes.  I know she has some inkling of this, but its not in her nature to do anything but take advantage of an opportunity.  She doesn't really even do it cruelly, just selfishly, which brings us to her call.

She was bright and bouncy sounding, a nice change since her extended single period was beginning to wear on her, and she hadn't been overjoyed during the holidays, a time when many of us feel the greatest sense of loneliness.  She was calling to find out if I owned a digital camera (I had received one as a Christmas present not four days earlier).

"I actually just received one as a gift," I acknowledged, waiting to hear what came next.  "Good," she said, "I thought you might get one.  I was wondering if you could come over and take some photos for me, I want to upload them onto DateMe.com and see if I can find myself a boyfriend."

This was the perfect example, the casual assumption that just because I was involved meant that I would happily assist her in finding someone else was typical.  It wasn't that she didn't know how I felt, it was just I was convenient, and at some level I think she enjoyed knowing she could get me to do things for her even when I didn't want to.  A little power trip she exercised when opportunity arose.

We made arrangements to get together the next evening, have a couple of drinks at her place and then take some pictures.  Obviously for a dating service she wasn't planning any X rated shots, though I'd be lying to say the idea hadn't crossed my mind, along with all kinds of other lewd thoughts.

I knocked on her door, a muffled voice answering that I should come in and get comfortable.  Opening the door I pulled off my shoes, strolled into the kitchen and found a pitcher of martinis already mixed sitting on the counter with a couple of cold glasses.  Pouring myself one I heard the shower start, along with the associated noises of someone clambering into the shower.  I seemed to have a bit of time on my hands, time I used to finish my first martini and start in on a second.

When the shower finally stopped the bathroom door opened a crack and she called out to me to "Work on that pitcher", saying she needed to get herself together for the photos.  I am not a lightweight when it comes to drinking, but four martinis on an empty stomach was enough for me to have a nice glow going by the time she finally finished.

Maybe it was "beer goggles" (or martini goggles in my case), but I'd never seen her looking as good, a tight cardigan over a pushup bra showing off her breasts to their best advantage, a short skirt over sheer nylons and strapped open-toed black heels.

She smiled as I let out a low whistle, moving to the other side of the counter and picking up the martini pitcher.  "Well, I see we'll need a couple more of these mixed up," she laughed, getting the Sapphire bottle off the bar.  Staring dumbfounded at her I wasn't about to argue.

Two martinis apiece later she was relaxing, playing with her hair while I moved into the realm of heavily buzzing.  "Shall we shoot a couple of pics now" she asked, standing and languidly moving over to the couch where she sprawled like a Roman at a feast.  I moved up, first taking full shots, then moving in on her face.

Suddenly, in the middle of a set of closeup shots I felt something touch my leg, moving up from my ankle to my knee.  I looked down to see her foot, shoe dangling, slowing tracing up and down my leg.  I stood frozen as she stared at me, eyes half lidded.  "Do you know why I want these pictures?" she asked, her toes continuing to glide along the side of my leg.  "Do you?" she asked again, a little more aggressively.

I nodded, "You want to find a boyfriend, someone to date." I mumbled as she sat up, her skirt riding up her thighs a bit, revealing that she was wearing stockings as opposed to nylons.  "Wrong," she snapped, holding my eyes with hers "Its because I'm horny.  You know I have no intention of getting into a relationship, I like my freedom, but I do want someone to go out with, and I want someone to help with my needs."

"You miss me don't you?" she asked, knowing the answer, making me say it.  I nodded, eyes straying unconsciously to the hint of skin showing above the top of her stockings.  Looking back up quickly I caught her smirk as she followed my eyes.

"Mmmm," she murmured, slowly sliding her hands up the sides of her skirt, lifting it another couple of inches, gradually revealing a hint of dark hair at the juncture of her thighs, "I actually anticipated that answer when I dressed for this.  You know, took the liberty of removing hindrances."

I moved forward, hands reaching for her when she stopped me abruptly with a straight arm.  "You can't do that, you have a girlfriend."  At this point I was ready to go regardless, but her statement caught me up short.  "I don't think I'm comfortable having sex with you, with being the other woman."

I nodded, stepping back, desire roaring even higher at this denial.  Abruptly she raised her hand, stopping me short, "That doesn't mean there isn't something you can do for me though," she was smiling, obviously enjoying the look on my face as she continued, "It occurs to me that if you don't get off, it really isn't cheating.  What do you think?"

I had no idea what she meant, but would've agreed to the grass being blue if it kept some hope open.  "I think you're right," I agreed not even wondering where she was going with this.  "Good," she purred as though I had just handed her something precious "In that case, why don't you come over here by the couch and get started."

I would've still not been sure of her meaning, had her hands not firmly guided me down onto my knees between her now spread legs, the skirt moving its final couple of inches up to bunch around her waist, fully exposing her neatly trimmed mound and the pouting lips peeking through.

A hand on the back of my head began its gradual push, moving my face slowly towards her waiting wetness, as I leaned in though, that same hand gripped my hair pulling back.  "Uh, uh, uh" she admonished as though I were a young child, "We do this my way, at my speed, how and where I want it.  Do you understand?"

I nodded, not easy with her gripping a handful of my hair, a grip that loosened and once more resumed its gentle push.  Just short of her pussy she stopped, leaving my face inches from her.  "Look up," she ordered, "Look up and ask permission to kiss my pussy."

From my position on my knees between her legs, I looked into her eyes, saw her smiling at me, and then the flash as she took a shot with my camera.  Startled I started to rise, but her hand on my head pushed me back down.  "I haven't heard your request yet," she reminded me, steadying my head between her hands, "Don't you have something you want to ask me?"

Nodding slightly I began to answer, a suddenly dry mouth making my voice sound deep and quavery "May I please, kiss you pussy?" I asked, a jolt flashing through me as the words slipped from my tongue and across my consciousness, "Please," I continued, "I'll do it anyway you want, for as long as you want."

She didn't speak, just pushed my face back down between her legs, my lips finally brushing against her dampness.  I began slowly kissing her, not using my tongue at all, just the pressure and sucking of my lips across her wet hairs and swelling labia.  Even as I kissed I could feel her wetness increase, her thighs moving rhythmically against both sides of my head as she began to move under my ministrations.

"Now start licking," she snapped, already sounding breathless, "Do it slowly and thoroughly, I'm not ready to cum just yet."  I moved closer, licking her deeply, my tongue gliding up and down the silky wetness, gathering it into my waiting mouth.  I reveled in the taste, the scent, as she moved her legs around me, one shoeless heel pressing my shoulder, while the other foot, still in the high heel, stabbed into my back.  Her pelvis humping she ground my face harder into her, smearing her juices all over me as I frantically worked to keep my tongue in place to catch her fluids as her orgasm shook through her.

"Look up again," she ordered as her orgasm subsided, "I want to see your face."  I looked up, again directly into the flash of my camera.  She turned it backwards so I could see the small LCD panel, my own face, framed by her thighs, coated with pussy juice looked back at me.

"A little keepsake for when you don't feel as co-operative as right now," she grinned, "I'm wondering if I really need to place the ad, with you so willing to please me when I want it.  And now, with these pictures, I'm sure you'll be happy to help out whatever way I feel like."

Pulling her legs back, she pushed her shoeless foot into my face.  I didn't hesitate, raining kisses on her foot, drawing my tongue across the dryness of the stocking, taking her big toe into my mouth, sucking an licking it.

She moaned a little, mumbling about enjoying her slave and other kinky little phrases before pushing me away.  "You always gave good head when we were together," she stated as she stood, "But," she continued, turning her back tome and raising her skirt, "I don't think you ever got a taste of what's back here." She leaned forward, pushing her ass towards my face, cheeks spreading to reveal the wrinkled brown circle of her anus.

She didn't need the pictures, the raging hardon in my pants was enough, I attacked her asshole with my tongue like a man lost in the desert finding an oasis.  I massaged her asscheeks with both hands, before sliding one down between her legs to finger her as I licked.

I don't know how many orgasms she had this way, or how long it lasted, but the sound of her laughing as she came was enough to know that my life had just changed dramatically.

(c) 2003 Cenobyte - I write what I like, but hope some of you like it too.  Any feedback would be great, even suggestions of how to improve my writing. 
