Marks

We like to mark each other; sometimes as a sign of passion and sometimes ownership; sometimes literally and sometimes symbolically — we do it physically and soulfully. Some marks are temporary and others more permanent lasting a lifetime.

Lipstick on a collar; hickeys on your neck; leather collars; golden showers; strap marks on your ass; a broken heart; a love that still echoes and makes you smile; nail marks that run the length of your back — the list is only limited by your imagination.

She spread her legs for me, exposing a well shaved pussy and invited me to fuck her; it is all she really wanted from me.  She wanted me to fuck her deep and make her cum, which she told me before we were naked she rarely did. She was tight and the condom dulled my excitement enough to let me hold on until she was satisfied. I came hard and fell into her sweating. She got the fuck she was looking for

It wasn’t until later that I happen to turn and look at my back in the mirror and saw the long red lines she left as a reminder, or maybe something more symbolic.

 In the end, I believe we mark to be remembered.

She stroked my cock seducing me to get hard and then bit my nipple hard. She would release her hold, still stroking and cooed over my growing cock. She would take my nipple into her mouth once more and bite down hard. We would play this game regularly until eventually she could make me hard simply by biting my nipple, and sometimes I would cum without her ever touching my cock.

 To this day, if I pinch my nipple I think of her and will start to get hard.

 In the end, I believe we want to be marked but then again, maybe I should just speak for myself.

 W

Fucking in bathrooms

The housewarming party was a big success and was mostly standing room; as I mentioned to someone this is a great way to get your fridge and bar stocked when you are starting out. I was busy that night but I have always had a crush on the new owner so I dropped by for a while with a fine bottle of wine to impress.  Other than a quick greeting, I only caught glimpses of her as she moved through the crowd with the excitement a room full of people can bring. I also got caught up with the energy as I chatted with people I knew and some I didn’t. Looking at my phone, I started to see messages asking where I was and decided it was time for me to go. After sorting through the pile of jackets on the bed, I found mine and made my way to the bathroom before I headed out offering quick goodbyes as I went — I was past fashionably late and the people on the other end of my phone we making a point of telling me they weren’t happy. I found the washroom and was reaching for the door when it opened suddenly. 

There was a start of recognition and we both smiled — her cheeks were a little flushed with the glow of a little too much wine and her grey eyes twinkled as I explained I had to leave with apologies for not being able to catch up. With a slight pout she backed back into the bathroom and motioned me to join her. Once inside, she closed the door and in one motion pushed back her red hair, leaned in, and kissed me; softly at first but as I accepted the kiss, much harder. She pulled back and as she looked at me, placed her hand on my cock and suggested I give her a call. Smiling, she reached for the door and the sound of the party swallowed her as I was left wondering what just happened.

We arranged to have a drink and listen to a local band a week later; she suggested we meet at her place and then just catch a ride from there. I was greeted with the same smile and twinkle I saw the week before, and she causally mentioned I didn’t have to take my shoes off. Without the party goers, it turned out her apartment was even smaller than I thought but was orderly and comfortable — we sat around talking about each other’s weeks until we decided we should check out the band and ordered a ride. As we started to leave, she stopped and motioned me into the bathroom, and without closing the door, kissed me. We kissed and pressed into each other — our sounds echoing slightly in the small room. We caught our breath and after one last kiss, agreed we should go.

Our schedules became hectic after that, and for a while, contact came in the form of text messages and phone calls; we shared what we were up to, how much fun we had, and tried to co-ordinate something.  Then early one evening I received a text message that simply said, the bathroom is calling us — please join me. I replied that I would be over in an hour. Again, the same smile and twinkle greeting me when I arrived.

The setting sun filled the room and soft music was playing — something I had never heard before. After wine was poured, a toast was made to a better world and some small conversation, she looked at me with an expression of slight apprehension, asked me if I would have a shower with her. The look on my face made her smile and she headed to the bathroom. As I entered the bathroom I motioned to the light switch, and she simply said no but asked me to leave the door open. I watched her remove her sweater and the muted light exposing her breasts and full nipples. As she started to remove her pants, she motioned for me to do the same and then stepped naked into the shower before my shirt was off. I could hear her adjust the taps and turn the shower on — she gasped slightly as the water hit her body and it didn’t take long for steam to start filling the small room. As I stepped into the shower, she was looking at me, her red hair in strands clinging to her shoulders and one hand was half-hearty attempting to cover her pussy. I moved to her and took her face in my hands and kissed her; she wrapped her arms around me. We kissed and caressed each other as the water slowly tuned from hot to warm to cold. As we said our good nights, we knew we had started something. We fucked for the first time the next weekend and our sounds echoed in the small room. She was on the vanity with her legs spread, and as my cock entered her, we gasped and fell into the rhythm of fucking. She came before I did and pulled me in as I continued to build — I almost screamed as I came and remember cum dripping on the tile as I pulled out. I kissed her deeply. 

When we were at my place, we only fucked in bed, but at hers, it was more often in the bathroom; in the shower, on the floor, on the vanity — the small space would force imaginative positions. Sometimes we would simply turn on the shower, let the steam build and kiss. There was a privacy that came with the bathroom, and it was there we did private things.

We had been dating about a year when we received an invitation to a mutual friend’s wedding; a June wedding and the reception was going to be held at his father’s club. As we were discussing possible wedding gifts, I mentioned there were very nice washrooms at the club. The wedding was a beautiful event and we danced the night away. We ended up in a washroom stall figuring out how to fuck without falling — ultimately, with her panties around her ankles, I fingered her and delighted in watching her attempt to muffle her orgasms with her hand. Whenever we would go out to a restaurant or even a friends house, we couldn’t help wondering aloud about what the washrooms are like. Many times our curiosity was satisfied.

We are engaged now and we’ve both taken on demanding careers but Tuesday night is sacrosanct because it’s date night, and whenever we can, we make a point of going to our favorite little restaurant below street level. The last time we were there, and just as we were about to cum, a knock came to the bathroom door asking if we were almost finished.

 I suppose, if you really think about it, we’ve only just started.

W

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