I inhaled nervously as I debated whether to send the text. “You up?” it said. I know, literally the most cliche booty call on the planet, but I couldn’t help it. It was two in the morning, I was a bit drunk, we’d been broken up for about four weeks and, quite frankly, I was horny as fuck.

Oh, it hurt at first. It hurt worse than anything I’d ever felt in my life. Getting dumped. There’s a reason they call it ‘dumped.’ He was the first boy I’d ever really had feelings for (maybe it was love, but we never got quite that far). All I know is that I was crushed. Literally, it felt like my heart was being crushed. I cycled between anger, sadness, and apathy for about two weeks. Then, something funny started to happen. Since I was no longer having sex regularly, once the sadness started to fade, I suddenly found myself extremely horny. Happiness and contentment had started to become a part of my daily emotional cycle, and now the crushing sadness made up only a quarter of my emotions, only when I was alone.

But now, I was up, I wasn’t sad, I was horny. I needed to be fucked. And who better to do that than someone who had already done it so, so well so, so many times. Plus, I had a secret desire. One which I already knew he was into. I had cajoled him into telling me he was into BDSM the night before he dumped me, but unfortunately, I didn’t have time to let him know that was my thing and to try it out with him.

I held my breath, simultaneously embarrassed and excited for his reply. Two minutes (120 eternities) later, he replied, “yes.” Relieved and already starting to get wet, I texted, “Can I come over?” while I called up an uber - of course, he would say yes. His reply came as my uber was pulling up, “yes.”
I got there and practically ran to the front of his apartment complex. I walked up the steps to see him sitting up there smoking. He raised an eyebrow, smirking, apparently having seen my tipsy jog. I ignored it - I was here for one thing. I sat across from him while he smoked, like we had done so many times before. We made small talk, Game of Thrones, television, action movies, drugs, alcohol, the meaning of life. That one stuck. Unfortunately, it stuck all the way to his second cigarette.

I sighed and said, “Let’s go inside.”

Again, he made a little smirk. A hot smirk, though.

“I’m cold,” I said by way of explanation.

He just pulled out his key and walked inside while I followed. Our discussion continued into his studio, where I sat on his bed and he sat at his desk, as per usual. He fiddled with his phone, finding music to play while we talked (that should have been my hint he knew what I was here for).

Finally, the alcohol made me brave and I sighed, “I didn’t really come here to talk about the meaning of life.”

“That’s a shame; I’m really good at it.”

He was, but we weren’t together anymore. He’d made that clear. I had just gotten out of the woods and I didn’t want to open that door in my head again.

He walked over to sit on the bed next to me and began wordlessly unlacing his boots. His stupid fucking boots I loved so much. I watched his fingers deftly untie them; I sighed, God I loved his hands. They were big and manly, but long and delicate, and he knew how to use them. He looked at me and I looked back, biting my lip (I knew he liked that), and finally we started kissing. Hard kissing. Passionate kissing. He nibbled my lips and sucked on my neck, not too much tongue, just the way I like. His hands fingered the bottom of my shirt.

“I want you naked” he murmured between nibbles on my neck. His voice was so steady and even, soothing but sexy.

I obliged and began stripping while straddling him. I undid my black lace bra, freeing my C-cups. I could feel his erection and it only served to make me wetter as it rubbed through my jeans.

Once I had gotten off my shirt and bra, before removing my pants, I kissed his neck and said, ever so softly, “I want you to dominate me.”

He gave a little laugh (maybe he thought I didn’t know what I was in for?). Then he started. His voice deeper and sexier, somehow, “From here on out, you will call me Daddy.”

“Yes, daddy.” I said meekly.

“Now, get naked” he commanded.

I obliged, unbuttoning my jeans. I moved too slow and he pushed me against the bed and began to pull them off me. I tried to pull my phone out of my pocket, but he grabbed it from my hands and threw it onto his night stand.

“No,” he said firmly and continued undressing me. He pulled off his shirt and jeans, revealing his massive erection and climbed on top of me. He kissed me roughly,

“You’re mine.” I responded by moaning and sucking his neck.

He turned me around and said, “On your knees.”

I stuck my ass out for him, but that wasn’t what he wanted.

He slapped my full, round ass and said, “No, suck my cock.”

“Yes, daddy.” I leaned in hungrily, I wanted his cock in my mouth so fucking bad.

“What do you want, slut?”

“I want your cock, daddy, please. I need your cock in my mouth.” I started sucking gently, wetting it thoroughly, swirling my tongue on the tip, gently suckling his balls, tugging them a bit when I sucked.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” and he roughly turned me over on my knees so once again my ass was in front of him.

He didn’t waste any time slamming his giant cock all the way in. I was so wet it slipped in easily.

“You’re so wet, slut. You must need cock.”

“Yes, daddy, I need your cock so fucking bad.”

He slammed into me, slow, but hard, each time filling me so completely I couldn’t help but release a loud moan.

“Ohhhhhh fuck! Yes, daddy, fuck me just like that!”

He began slapping my ass between thrusts and I moaned even louder. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and said, ‘Oh yeah, you like that slut?” and paused to deliver another solid smack. He got a rhythm going; thrust, slap, thrust, smack.

God, it felt so fucking good. It had been so long I just couldn’t hold back any longer, I needed to cum.

I moaned, “Oh daddy, I’m going to cum!”

“No slut, you don’t cum until I cum.”

“Pleasssee.” I begged.

“Your orgasms are mine. Your pussy is mine. You must ask me before you can cum.”

“Daddy, please can I cum!” I was desperately trying to hold it back, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last. My cunt was pulsating and desperate for release, dripping juice around his cock. With each smack, his cock driving hard into my sopping pussy, I was starting to feel little pre-orgasmic twitches. “Daddy please, please, please,” I begged between breaths.

“Wait,” he was panting, “slut. Wait.” I could hear his breath getting more ragged and his thrusts more erratic; he was close, too.

I was on the edge, my pussy had begun to start the orgasm in spite of all my efforts to keep it at bay, “Daddy, daddy, please, I need. I need, I need to, to, to.” I was trying to hold back my orgasm, but there was no way I could hold it back for long.

He thrusted harder and said, “Cum, slut.”

I couldn’t imagine more beautiful words at a more perfect time. He pushed his hot cum into my steamy cunt and my body responded instantly, contracting all through my cunt and pushing more juice out of my already soaking wet pussy. Sending waves of pleasure pulsating throughout my body and I moaned so loud I’m sure the entire apartment complex could hear. The orgasm never seemed to end, washing over me, wave after wave of indescribable ecstasy.

We collapsed into a breathless heap on top of each other. Panting, I said, “Thank you.”