Pinked

Dirt

It was an odd thing to think about, Kady thought. She turned her rapt attention back to the thick, veinous cock pumping between her lips. It was probably like that thing her therapist was talking about: sexual satisfaction. Her tongue waggled sinuously across the purple knob of him and drew out a crystal drop of precum. She'd deal with those voices in her head later. Who were they to call her a bimbo.

She had heard other women, of course, drop that name. Often on sultry blondes, rapacious redheads, bold brunettes. Even browny mice or squirrelhair like Kady sported. She felt his hand pushing down on the back of her neck, not forcing, but feeding her his cock. She'd always been dirty like that. Teasing, pretending, surrendering to his hungers. She loved to suck him; worship her private phallus until his head spun. Mmmmm. She smiled around his shaft. Wickedly.

That kind of sexual compatibility is rare. A counterpart, yielding, succulent, inspiring. Letting him be A Man, you know. Falling for that kind of guy. Getting right down on your knees and fumbling his pants open and take out that beautiful instrument. And get down to play.

Kady liked it with a little dirt. Some conversations. Some dirty phrases. A little kink now and then. Was it that she liked and enjoyed sex? Was that why they called her bimbo? How fucking rude!

“Tell me that you want some.”

His body shifted heavily against her. “I want some.”

Kady scooted her body closer; the heat of skin on skin. She reached for him.

“Tell me!”

“I want to fuck you. I am going to fuck you.”

“This is where I want it,” she said, raising her face.

“You are one special cocksucker.”

“Oh, I know!”

She nuzzled his pulsing shaft against her face and snaked little licks on the head, tasting the precum oozing from his cockhole.

“Give me every fucking drop...Daddy...Oh, I mean...Oh? You like when I call you Daddy?”

Jizzelle

She realized it had become an obsession, but so what? She thought about it constantly, fantasized what it would finally feel like, had to have it. She wanted Daddy, her Daddy, to watch her cum for him.

A photograph wasn't enough, though that would have been so hot. Dressed in her sexiest outfit, makeup perfect, wig slightly unkempt to show how enthralled she'd become. Captured just at that instant when a spurt of cum shot out of her dick for him. Not the first one or second, but that third one, dripping over the other two coating her dick and balls. See, Daddy, she'd be saying silently to him. See, what you make me do.

No, a single pic wouldn't be enough. It had to be a vid. Showing the whole build up, showing her squirming and wanting. Showing her fingers pumping and squeezing and her eyes as she imagined Daddy's cock in her mouth as she came so hard for him. Everything just right to make him...stroke himself as he watched her. Everything urging him to cum, too. To handle that beautiful cock of his and shoot a load while watching her cum. That was her obsession. It took such a strong hold on her that she could think of, imagine nothing more exciting. She had to make it happen.

But how bold could she dare to be? How to invite him to accept and watch her? “Watch me cum for you, Daddy”? “This is what you made me do for you, Daddy”? “Please watch me cum, Daddy”? It had be seductive. Had to be that select mix of pure “whore for Daddy” and “I'm a lady, too”. She wanted connection with it, not just some nasty vid from anyone. Or to anyone. It had to be a message to draw his interest. Sexy, enticing, lascivious, but with a strand of feminine dignity, too. “Respect me, but I want to suck your brains out.” She laughed at the incongruity. She knew it was the old cliché of whore and madonna, but she couldn't help herself.

“Dear Daddy,” she began. “Will you, please, watch me? You make me so hot, I had to cum. For you, Daddy. Love, Jizzelle.” Okay. That was good. Now all she had to do was make the video and click Send.

Young Sugar

They made a curious couple. The little rich gurl and the old mature, sophisticated Daddy. At first people assumed the older man was a typical sugar Daddy who favored a sweet, seductive young crossdresser. But it was really the other way around.

The accidental death of both his parents and wife of three years had left Terry a wealthy man of 27, quite wealthy. He could afford a lifestyle far and away beyond his peers. He still had a slim, fit swimmer's physique and now he could indulge his long-held fetish of being feminine, but he knew he wasn't cultured and knowledgeable. So he bought himself a Daddy who was both.

Nolway Snappe could have been a retired professor. He had the look. He might have been an aging movie star, in fact. Handsome, suave, and perfectly mannered, at 67 he still had a full head of hair to match his grizzled trim beard. Terry bought him tailored suits and designer casual wear as his arm candy. Sexually, Nolway kept Terry with a semi-hardon practically all the time. And Terry did his best to keep his Daddy perpetually aroused.

In the captain's suite of his modest yacht, Terry lay across the bed slowly licking and savoring his Daddy's thick cock, lingering with tongue-swirling circles on the purple knob.

“Oh, Daddy,” he said in a whisper. “I love your cock so much.”

Nolway smiled quietly and ruffled his fingers through Terry's wig. “You make it feel so good in your mouth, baby.”

Terry closed his eyes and engulfed the whole shaft between his lips. He tilted his head this way and that, licking and gently sucking, making moaning noises that sent vibrations through his lover's balls. With his mouth full of Daddy's cock, Terry let his tongue slip out and lick the ball sack noisily. Up and down, down and up, Terry's mouth made wet slurping sounds, bobbing his head on his Daddy's cock. His fingers stroked up and down his Daddy's muscular bare thighs. When he finally pulled his mouth away, he sighed. “You treat me so good, Daddy. I love your Daddy cock in my mouth.”

Nolway grinned widely. “If you keep this up, I am going to cum in your mouth, you naughty girl.”

“Just what I want, Daddy.”

“No, no,” Nolway replied. “I want to wait until tonight. After the party.”

“Mmm. I'd rather suck you off AT the party, Daddy. Let everyone see how much cum my Daddy shoots for me. All over my face, so I can wear it and make everyone jealous before I clean every drop off my Daddy's cock.”

“Mmm, that is a tempting offer, baby.”

Chet woke up and stretched his lithe body under the moist sheet. He'd had the dream again and his body still tingled from it. With only slight variations, for the third night in a row, he'd had the same vivid dream about his new boss, Mr. Westerly.

He let his hand slip under the sheet and cupped his dick and balls. “Mmmmmm,” he murmured. In the dream, when it started he was at work at his desk and he'd just received a call to go to Mr. Westerly's private office. As he stood up from his desk, he suddenly noticed he was dressed. But not in his usual suit and tie. He was dressed instead in a loose, buttoned up white blouse, a tight green pencil skirt, stockings and high heels. His hair was in a bob cut and in the computer monitor's reflections he saw his face wore makeup: smokey eye shadow and pink lipstick. In his dream, he smiled and patted his hair, then walked down the small hallway to Mr. Westerly's office.

He opened and then closed and locked the door behind him. Mr. Westerly sat on the edge of his desk. Chet said “Good morning, Sir,” in a soft voice, then immediately dropped to his knees and crawled across the carpet until he was directly in front of his boss. Mr. Westerly smiled back and spread his legs. Chet then asked “May I, Sir?” and his boss nodded.

Chet's fingers quickly unzipped Mr. Westerly's trousers and gently took out the long, thick cock. It was already dripping a large amount of precum which Chet licked up with a slurp. Mr. Westerly grunted quietly. Chet swallowed loudly and kissed the purple knob of his boss's beautiful cock before licking it slowly. In the dream, Chet always woke up just as his lips encircled his boss's cockhead and started sucking it.

Once awake, Chet always had raging morning wood and his balls tingled and ached. “Oh, Mr. Westerly!,” he sighed and then had to stroke his dick until he came, hot spurts shooting up across his chest and belly. Fuck, he whispered, wishing the dream would come true.

Of course. He kept himself closely shaved, his skin well moisturized, and slim-bodied. He liked keeping himself well-groomed after all, but with a subtle feminine twist. Going out, there was the barest hint of mascara and lipstick and the clothing he favored was not as butch as his peers seem to like. Nothing blatant. After all, those that picked up on his scant signals would know right away, he was trolling for a hard cock in his mouth, wouldn't they?

On the other hand, there hadn't been any seducers lately and it made him frustrated and anxious. He had lately taken to strolling the mostly empty museum rooms and the few remaining open art galleries downtown, amusing himself with fantasies and daydreams. His mind drifted as he slowly and thoughtfully walked from painting to painting and was actually startled when he heard the quiet voice.

“What do you think it is?” asked the low hushed voice, almost a whisper.

He cleared his throat as he turned to see who was talking.

“Well, it might be...” he froze in place. The older man stood actually very close, close enough to feel his body heat in fact. His smile was electric, not hidden but rather framed between the greying moustache and the trim beard.

“Might be...?”

“I'm...I'm still learning about Art,” he said softly.

“In the eye of the beholder they say,” the older man offered.

“Right, right.”

As he watched, the older man looked around the empty room and then let his hand smooth the front of his trousers. “Like so many things, don't you agree?”

He watched the man's fingers intently. Forefinger and middle finger separated and seemed to outline a longish, thick shape. It made him inhale deeply as if he could smell the older man's musky sex.

“Yes...umm, yes, you're right.”

The older man again looked around the room and stepped a little closer. He took a deep breath and reached out his hand. “You could be a model yourself,” he said. Without hesitation his fingers brushed lightly over the younger man's upper thigh, as if feeling the material of his pants eliciting a shiver.

“Please...”

The fingers dropped away, but the man's face leaned closer. “Nice cock,” he whispered.

The younger man trembled at such a public grope. On the other hand, he immediately felt some precum ooze out the make a wet spot on his pants. “His breath came out in a hoarse whoosh, “Wow.”

Shea knew it was dirty. Sneaky, tricky, and dirty; he didn't care. He did it anyway. Once he had seen Michael's father, he just had to seduce him and the way to get that done was to first hookup with Michael and let his father catch them together. Or at least see Shea sucking Michael's dick. Then his father would just HAVE to feel Shea's mouth on his cock; his big thick Daddy cock.

Hypolite --”Hope” blinked. When her eyelids lifted, it was still the same. If it was a dream, it was a perfectly lucid one. She let her sensations glide downward. Her boots were gone; her toes and ankles naked. Some tension at her ankles, ropes or straps. As she twisted her lithe neck, she felt the constraint of a thick leather collar. The cool kiss of metal chain hung from it, between her nipples – harder than she'd ever felt.

She moaned as a trickle of ribbon coiled against her naked belly and played serpent games across her pale torso. She took a deep breath realizing her dress had vanished – most of her clothing had. Only the veil-like drape of her sheer black panties remained; framing his hips, groin, and ass.

Hope couldn't help brushing his tongue along his dry lips. Like a lizard, part of his brain tasted: salt, heat, he could taste the aurora of man scent. The older man hovered over his naked body; ran fingers down Hope's bare body; electrifying. As electric as an hour ago, his presence had shocked her at the bar. She wasn't naked then; not for awhile. A clinging femme fatale dress had covered her then; little else: sheer black panties, stockings to match; heels. Smoky-eyed, Hope had immediately felt him against her. One of those men who command a roomfull of fans and picks out one of them to be his. Tonight. Right now. For just one night. Probably. He had electrified Hope just by appearing, Beside her, he made her soul crawl. In a good way. Now she lay, open to him, bound by him. She'd never felt her body, mind, and spirit so attuned to one man: him.

Focused as fuck, Hope sighed as he rubbed his stiff cock across her face. She murmured unintelligible whispers, hisses, kitten growls and pretended to struggle against him as more of his body raked across hers. When his fleshy cock and tight ball sack caressed against her skin, sliding across the silky veil over her hips and ass sent shivers along Hope's spine and shocked spasms through her pelvis.

She knew he hadn't drugged her or even made her over drink. His presence was intoxicating. Like a long wolf of a man who'd been fucking a lifetime; hunted even by his prey. The sexual thrill of it; wild, passionate, kingly. Everyone knew he fucked like a king; had heard it said. Mythic, yet human as it gets; Alpha man; Daddy and Commander. Hot Daddy. And now Hope lay stretched for his pleasure; “Anything you want, Daddy,” Hope managed to whisper.

“Louder,” said the older man. Fingtertips teasing Hope's aching nipples.

Hope pretended to writhe and struggle; grazing upward along his body.

“No.” Her voice was a hummingbird's squeal.

She felt his thick cock throb violently, lava precum oozing down to burn against her. He grazed her gaping mouth with the knobby head of his purpled cock. Precum dribbled down to her chin. She suddenly felt her lips stretched, filled. He was in her mouth. And then gone.

“More,” Hope groaned.

His deep voice swept over her in a mocking tone. “No.”

Hope imagined it was a mini-orgasm. They both shuddered, touching only at the groin; cock and balls grinding on balls and cock. Both precumming to lube the friction; frotting man on man. Hope had never felt it before. Her world was rocked.

Of course, Hope came. So did the older man; she felt it hot and liquid on her. Marking her, in her naked bondage, as his.

At twenty-five, everyone Brad knew said he looked a lot younger, more like nineteen. He'd still get carded at bars which both intrigued and annoyed him. He had a good if boring office job and had his own apartment. Like most guys, he also watched a lot of porn at home and would jack off. At first it was just the usual stuff, large breasted women sucking and fucking big stiff cocks, drinking their cum or getting facials. After awhile though, he'd ventured into more what he considered bisexual or kinky stuff and even the occasional crossdressing video which – surprising himself – got him very hard and horny. One video he started to watch over and over.

It was a young gay crossdresser who he nicknamed Pink. A bobbed pink wig with matching nail polish and pink panties. He or she really got into cocksucking with style. He'd kiss and lick the cocks before alternating sucking the huge knobs and then swooping his pink lips up and down the thick shafts, sometimes on the downstroke sticking her tongue out and licking balls quickly. Every time he watched the video, he seemed to cum harder after edging himself for as long as he could stand.

After a few months of nightly watching, Brad teased himself with becoming Pink. Online, he bought a pink wig, pink lipstick and nail polish. He eventually bought some hot pink see through panties, stockings, and a – very expensive really – pair of pink high heels that fit his smallish feet. He would dress up in his new outfit, put on makeup and his wig and watch the video over and over. It wasn't long before Brad started imagining he was the one in his pinks, on his knees, sucking and worshipping that big hard cock with his hands and mouth.

Outwardly, in the real world, he was still hetrosexual Brad, but more and more his inner self reverted to being Pink. Sometimes, during the day, at work or in his leisure time, Brad would catch himself checking out older men, eyeing the front of their pants and trying to imagine what their cocks looked like, and even what they might taste like if he put them in his mouth. He'd be embarrassed, but he couldn't help himself, especially if the men noticed him noticing them.

One day, his local Starbuck's was closed for repairs and he found himself hunting out a new place for his usual Saturday morning coffee and pastry. The place was almost full, but he found a two person table outside and sat down. With a few minutes a tall older man approached the table and asked if he could sit down. Brad glanced up and nodded.

The man was handsome and fit with just a touch of gray, wide shoulders, and trim beard.

“Thanks. It's a little crowded this morning.”

“No problem,” Brad replied with a smile.

As they sat sipping their coffees, the man's knees brushed against Brad's.

“Sorry. These tables are pretty small.” The man smiled.

Brad's legs felt electrified at the slight touch. He stammered. “It's okay. Yeah, not much room.”

The man reached down and massaged his knee, the back of his hand still brushing against Brad's kneecap. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You don't mind, do you?”

Brad's jaw dropped. The man's hand stayed where it was. Brad seemed to day dream for a moment. He was feeling Pink rise up in him. “Uh, no. It's okay,” he blurted.

The man started brushing his hand back and forth, seeming to caress Brad's knee under the table. “You like it?”

Brad felt like he'd lost his voice. “What?”

The man turned his hand so that his palm was now lightly rubbing Brad's knee. “You like it?” he asked again.

Brad mumbled. “I don't...I don't know about this.” He looked around nervously.

“You do like it, don't you? I wish I could touch you more. Higher. Much higher. Like between your legs.”

Oh, fuck, Brad almost said. He swallowed hard. Before he even realized it, he whispered. “Yes.

“Do you live alone? Close by?” The man asked, leaning back in his chair and drinking his coffee.

Brad murmured. “Yes.”

“Well, are you going to invite me over?”

Brad's mind went into his Pink mode. He licked his lips, imagining the man watching him put on lipstick. “Yes,” he said softly.

Unlocking his apartment door, Brad looked over his shoulder. “You're very handsome,” he said.

“And I bet you can look very pretty. If you want to.”

Brad shivered. “I'll try,” he said quietly.

Entering, Brad pointed to the couch. “Please get comfy. I won't be long.” He went into his bedroom and pushed the door mostly closed.

The older man sat and looked around. “The Girl from Ipanema” song came from the bedroom as he waited.

When Brad re-emerged, his transformation was total. He was Pink. He smiled broadly as he watched the older man's eyes move upward from his pink high heels, up his stockinged legs, across his very short pink skirt, over his mostly unbuttoned light pink shirt, to his perfectly coiffed pink wig and his pink lips, eye shadow.

“Hi, Daddy,” he murmured quietly. “Do you like it?”

The man nodded.

“Can I sit on your lap, Daddy?”

Again, the man silently nodded.

Brad walked over and nestled on the inviting lap. He could feel how strong the man's thighs and legs were. For a moment he imagined the power of this man as he would thrust his hips, his thick hardness pressing against Brad's softness. Fucking him.

Brad sat on the man's lap, squirming a little as he put his arms around the man's neck. “Do you like me, Daddy?” he whispered next to the man's ear. He was answered when the man leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips as if tasting and then mashed his mouth harder, taking Brad's breath away.

Mouths open on each other, their tongues danced and wrestled with each other. Brad even gasped loudly as he felt the man's firm hand sliding down his stockinged thigh and began rubbing up under his skirt until he reached his panties. This man knew what he was doing for sure as he cupped and caressed Brad between his thighs. Brad felt his panties get even more wet.

When their kiss broke, Brad took a deep breath. “Oh, Daddy,” he whispered. “I've waited so long for this.”

Long moments passed between them, kissing, caressing, making out with overwhelming desire. But every time, Brad as Pink, tried to slip down to his knees between his new Daddy's thighs and suck his cock, the older man forcefully held him back, keeping him on his lap and fingering him beneath his skirt. Finally, Daddy pushed Brad to the floor and made him stand.

“Take off your blouse and skirt,” he growled. Brad's body trembled as he obeyed.

Clad in only his heels, stockings and pink panties, Brad was again taken onto his new Daddy's lap on the couch. The more Daddy caressed and kissed him, the wider Brad spread his legs. Now the older man became more aggressive, sliding his hand inside Brad's panties and stroking his hardened clit/dick. Brad squirmed and writhed under the rough touch and pumping. His words spewed forth.

“Oh, god, Daddy! Oh, please.” The man's strong fingers circled the head of Brad's clit and rubbed his thumb over and over on the sensitive spot beneath his cum hole. “Oh, Daddy, Daddy!”

“Cum for me, cum for Daddy,” the man whispered hoarsely until at last, Brad couldn't hold back any longer. A spurt of cum erupted on Daddy's hand, then another and again until Brad felt emptied and exhausted with the straining of his body. At last, Daddy relaxed his grip and Brad slid to the carpet.

Shaken, his body electrified with desire, Brad slowly climbed up the man's body and kissed him deeply on the mouth until slipping back down to his knees. “I want to see you, Daddy,” he managed to say quietly. “Please!”

With a smile, the man unbuckled his belt and zipped down his fly. Pushing his pants to the carpet, Brad gasped as his Dadsdy's erect cock came into view. He thought it was beautiful; the knobby head purple and taut, the shaft thickly veined and long; balls sack tight beneath. A single clear droplet of precum oozed from the slit.

“Oh, god, Daddy!” Brad murmured admiring it. “If I don't kiss I'll just die. Can I kiss it, Daddy? Tell me you me to kiss your cock, Daddy.”

“Kiss my cock.”

“Oh. Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy.” He lowered his lips until they barely touched and he licked the precum drop. “You taste like honey, Daddy.”

Without a word, Brad's slack lips were stretched open as Daddy thrust the entire length of himself into Brad's mouth, the head reaching the back of his throat almost choking him. “Unnnn! Daddy!” he groaned, his mouth full. The words were barely intelligible. “Unnn, Daddy! Your cock!”

He felt the older man's hands lifting his head until the tip of his cock remained. Brad licked and sucked it, feeling his own drool filling his mouth and dribbling down his chin.

“Good girl,” Daddy said. “Just work the head now.”

The sight of her own pink lipstick smeared on Daddy's cock thrilled Brad more than she could have imagined. Her lips eagerly and hungrily applied themselves.

After only a few moments, with Daddy's cockhead in his mouth and Brad in heaven, the older man pushed him away and stood up, pulling up his pants, zipping the fly, buckling his belt. “That's all for now,” he said quietly.

Brad was shocked, his emotions awry. “But...”

“For now. I'll be back tonight. At ten. Be dressed as you are now.” He lightly caressed Pinks' face and left.

Brad was aghast. His mind raced and kept replaying what had just happened. He had no doubt the man would be back that night. At ten. But what would he do in the meantime?!

The rest of the Saturday was a hot mess. Brad kept watching porn, trying to imagine what his new Daddy would want to do. Would he let Pink suck him off? Would he want to fuck him? Brad's virgin ass clinched tightly. Would it hurt a lot? Daddy's cock was pretty big. The hours dragged on and on, Pink getting excited and nervous as hell.

At nine-thirty, he refreshed his makeup, straightened his wig, smoothed his stockings. His dick was already poking out of his tiny pink panties. A steady stream of precum oozed.

At ten exactly, there was Daddy's knock at the door and Brad almost jumped out of his tingling skin. He opened the door.

Immediately the older man entered, closed the door, and pushed Pink roughly against the wall. His breath was hot on the back of Brad's neck and he pressed closer. Brad felt Daddy's strong hands on his ass and trembled. He could feel Daddy's hard cock in his pants and reached behind him to unzip and take that cock out.

“Daddy, you are so hard,” he moaned.

“I've been thinking about you all day.”

“I've been thinking about you all day, too, Daddy.”

Brad could feel the knob of Daddy's cock between his ass cheeks, probing.

“Daddy,” he said softly. “I'm a virgin. I've never...I mean I want to, want you to, but...”

The older man grunted in pleasure. “All right,” he sighed. He turned Brad around swiftly and pushed him to his knees. “Make it wet. Just the head now.”

Pink licked and licked the head until the knob glistened and dripped his saliva. Abruptly, Daddy pulled him up to his feet and turned him around. Again Brad felt the thick knob of Daddy's cockhead probing between his ass cheeks. He almost shouted when he felt the wet knob push hard into his hole.

“Oh, fuck..sorry, I mean, Daddy!”

A few thrusts of the head and Brad felt a hot spurt in his ass. His knees weakened and he slumped. Daddy ground their bodies together. He grunted in Brad's ear as spurt after spurt of hot cum flooded Pink's ass. “Unnhhh! Take your Daddy's big load,” he growled. He nuzzled Brad's neck and nipped at his earlobe, then stepped back.

Pink slid along the wall to the carpet. It felt like his hole was burning, full of Daddy's hot lave cum. His feeling roiled and made him spasm as he lay on the floor. “Oh, god, Daddy,” said hoarsely. “That was incredible.”

The older man said nothing, just walked to the couch and sat down as he had that morning, leaving his pants open at the crotch. Brad turned his head, eyes focused on the still hard cock.

“Come here,” Daddy said quietly.

Brad crawled on his hands and knees until he was between Daddy's wide spread legs. His eyes stayed on Daddy's cock. A few droplets of pearly cum remained on the head. “Please, Daddy,” he managed to say in a whisper.

“Lick them off,” the man told him and Brad's tongue hungrily lapped the remaining cum.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

The man rubbed his thumb over Brad's lips. “Are you your Daddy's cocksucker?”

Brad smiled and nodded. “I am Daddy. I will suck your cock anytime you let me.”

“Mmmm.”

“You like Daddy's cum in your ass, too?”

“God, yes, Daddy. I am sorry I couldn't take it deeper.”

“You will. In time.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” Pink lay her face on Daddy's thigh. “You are so hot, Daddy,” he sighed. “Keep me. Please.”