You can’t tell lies with a cock in your mouth

To me, the idea of saying “you cannot tell lies with a cock in your mouth, little girl” was incredibly hot when I first thought of it. Trying to write a story to use that line in, though, proved a challenge. The end result is a consensual non-consent-y story, featuring a struggle-fuck blow-job in a dirty alley way.

My boyfriend texts me before I head into dinner with my friends. He’s been away for a few days, which means the last few days have been filled with me edging myself for him. I am horny from the teasing and thought I could be waiting at home when he got back. Ready to be fucked: naked and presenting my arse to him, cunt slick with arousal so he could take me roughly and quickly from behind while he made me look at myself in the hall’s mirror.

Of course, once I told him this plan he had quite other ideas. He said I couldn’t cancel my previously arranged plans, no matter how badly I wanted to be fucked, and told me he’d pick me up after dinner. I groaned at those words: I knew he’d have arranged something to draw out my torment. My cunt betrayed me, though, twitching with excitement.

It does so again now, as I read his text. Go to the bathroom during the meal and take off your knickers. I won’t open the door to you if you don’t give them to me: I want to see how wet my girl is for me.

The dinner passes in a blur, and while there is wine and giggling and celebrating the friend who has just been promoted, I can’t quite forget the task I have been set as I wiggle a little in my seat. Luckily, none of my friends seem to notice. After we’ve hugged goodbye, I go to the ladies’ bathroom. I slide my knickers off my hips, but quickly rub my clit a few times before I step out of them. I check that my fingers smell strongly of my cunt, roll up the waistband of my skirt – just once, so he will get a glimpse of me as I get into the car – and check my phone again. There’s another text, giving me instructions on where to meet him.

It’s a chilly evening, and I feel my nipples hardening under my thin top. I wait on the corner he specified, but he doesn’t appear. I wait shivering, while a gentle wind tries to lift my skirt up. I’m so busy peering into the orange-street-lit darkness for my boyfriend’s car that I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me.

In fact, I don’t realise that I’m not alone until there’s a hand over my mouth and an arm around my waist.

I fight, but whoever’s holding me is strong, and they half-drag, half-carry me a few feet back into the alley. I wiggle and kick, but I can’t escape, and my cries are muffled. He bundles me against the brick wall, using his weight to hold me firmly in place. He chuckles as I struggle, trying to get free, and I can feel the bulge of an erection pressing against my arse.

“Such a bad little girl. Are you going to be a good girl now and let me use you?”

I shake my head, still struggling against him as hard as I can.

“Really, little slut? You don’t want to be fucked like the dirty girl you are?”

I protest, and I push back against him. He is strong.

“No, no, no, no.”

“You can’t lie to me, whore, I can see how wet you are for me.”

“No…”

“Get on your knees. You can’t tell lies with your mouth full, little slut.”

I struggle, but his hands are firm on my shoulders and around my neck. As much of a fight as I put up, it’s not one I will win. Even when I’m on my knees, I look up at him defiantly, refusing to open my mouth.

“The more you resist, the more I know you want it.”

I wait, I’m not going to give in. He punishes me – or rewards me? Maybe more likely he does it without giving a single moment of thought to my wellbeing only to using me– with a strong hand wrenching my jaw open. Suddenly I’m choking on his cock.

“Don’t you dare use your teeth, slut, or I will give you a thrashing you will not forget.”

His hands hold my head in place, so all I can do is hold my mouth open as wide as I can. He face-fucks me roughly, his ruthless strokes reducing me to nothing more than a fuck-toy. I’m rewarded with a few satisfied grunts as he uses me. I choke again, and he pulls back just for a second, so I can gasp in a breath. As I splutter a little, I become aware of the drool running down my face and the thick trails of spit leading to his cock.

I can’t help licking my lips my lips and strain to look up at him with wet, pleading eyes. I can’t pretend that I don’t want him in my mouth again. And I get what I want, and more. He holds little back, forcing himself deep in my throat. Now he talks as he uses me, muttering dirty girls and messy sluts in a tone that feels like praise.

A whine escapes my lips as he takes his cock away again. He comes on my face, and I put my tongue out to lick away some of the spunk that runs down my cheek. He grunts, as though satisfied with the mess he has made of me, and then tucks his cock away. His thick fingers fastening his belt buckle make me wonder what they’d be like inside me… and make me imagine what it would feel like if he’d delivered the beating he promised if I continued to misbehave.

Caught up in that thought, it takes me a second to realise that he’s already walking away. I stay on my knees for a few moments more, catching my breath, and then slowly get to my feet. I don’t wipe the come off my face: partly because I know my boyfriend will want to see it, and partly because the mark of the dirty alley way blow job makes my cunt wet.

His car pulls up a minute later, and I hand him my knickers – the knickers that I kept a tight hold on to all through the struggle and the face-fucking. He unlocks the passenger side door, and I climb in.

“I didn’t mean to get come in your hair,” he says after he kisses me.

“Don’t worry, that was wonderful, and I can shower when we get back, right? Unless you have more planned for tonight, that is.”

“If you look, you will find a new dildo in the glove box…”

Image sourced through Pixabay.

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