A few nights ago, I went running. It was a beautiful evening and being outside to do something physical was exhilarating. While I was running, I started to imagine going running with a play partner of mine – and, of course, sucking their dick mid-run. This smut is inspired by those thoughts, but also plays around a little with the idea of using BDSM-y sex to build self-confidence so you can feel like you’ve really feel like you’ve earned a thing, even when your mind is lying to you.
There are times when I regret the little offhand comments I make to my dominant. Like when I admitted that I wanted to explore piss play and they found a way to work it into a bondage scene. Or the time when I teased them about not beating the eggs for a cake they were backing strongly enough, and I quickly found myself strapped down and being shown exactly how hard they could beat me.
They have a way of twisting what I say to create deliciously devious scenarios that make me squirm. I love it and hate it in equal measure.
Because I know this, I shouldn’t have been surprised that after mentioning to them that I wanted to get back into running they would find a way to make me love-hate every minute of it. They took delight in working me up to a desperate, whimpering mess who was begging them to fuck me, and then sending me out for a run. They made me go running to earn the privilege of sucking their dick, which turned me on in unexpected ways. Running with a butt plug in my arse was something else I’d never expected to try – and was honestly more of a slow jog – but their enthusiasm to go down on me afterwards, when I was sweaty and wet and between their fingers and their tongue and the butt plug filling me I would have explosive orgasms.
Without their encouragement, I’d have struggled to build up the habit of running again – which is something I love in itself but became even more fun with a good dicking afterwards. I like all of the ways they playfully wove it into our D/s relationship, but I like it best when they come running with me.
Their air of nonchalance, where they’ll run beside me as though not touching me was the easiest thing in the world even though their hands had been gripping my tits before we left the flat? It’s ridiculously hot. I love that kind of delightful mind fuck, and my cunt goes wet as we run side by side and don’t talk, wondering if they’re really focussed on the exercise or if – like me – they’re thinking about how they’ll use me when we get home. By the time we’re behind a door which can be locked, I’m willing to beg and promise all manner of depraved things just so they’ll touch me.
I love how my dominant pushes me – in the bedroom, when they help me take more pain; in my professional life, when they support me to work on the goals; and while running, when they send me off to do sprints and hill reps ahead of them while they jog along slowly. I feel like I’ve really earned the satisfaction I feel when I’ve they’ve pushed me like that, and it feels good to not have to feel guilty about feeling good about myself. But their evil imagination is good at coming up with new ways to push me.
As usual, while running alongside them I am sneaking covert looks at their crotch. I am very into their dick – especially when I haven’t been allowed to play with it for a few days and did not expect the first thing they’d want to do when they got home was go for a run – so it’s possible that I’m being a little less subtle than I should. They catch my eye and grin.
“I can see you drooling over my cock, slut.”
I shake my head in protest, but I’m not surprised when they don’t believe me.
“Lies, little one. You know what happens to girls who tell lies?” They don’t give me a chance to reply before continuing. “Race you to the jasmine bush.”
I beat them to the jasmine bush – a notable landmark on our runs together – but I’m out of breath and am bent over when they catch up with me.
“I like watching you all out of breath, slut.”
“You did that just so you could perv on my arse, didn’t you?” They nod, grinning.
“Get on your knees.”
I straighten up quickly.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“No. Knees, now. Watching you choke and gasp because you’re pushing yourself to run fast makes me want to watch you choke while you’re sucking my dick.”
I stare at them in shock, but their focused look is unrelenting. I get on my knees, the ground hard and muddy beneath me and the air suddenly too warm all around me. Watching them take their dick out here is slightly surreal. There’s little to no fear of discovery, but there is still a thrill from doing something we shouldn’t be. Their dick is already half hard, and I open my mouth eagerly.
Sucking their dick is intoxicating. They twist a hand through my hair, in a way that they could use as leverage to fuck my throat, but don’t – it’s just so I know who is in control. Not that there is any doubt, when I’m kneeling before her like this. There is something intimate about having their cock in my mouth, especially when they’re using me entirely for their own pleasure. Even more so if –
“Stop touching yourself, slut. I want to use you right now but you’re going to pay for that later.”
I whine pleadingly but do as I’m told and pull my hand out of my running leggings.
– if they notice I’m being a bad girl and punish me for it. Nothing is hotter than sucking their dick while they tell me how they’ll beat me afterwards. They keep up the stream of filthy words until their grip in my hair tightens and they thrust harder into my mouth, my tongue attempting to find their frenulum as their dick pulses.
They come in my mouth, and I hold their come their until they give me permission to swallow it. When I stand up, my knees are muddy but it feels like I am glowing. I can smell the jasmine scent in the evening air as they pull me close to them, and somehow the aromatic smell goes perfectly with the smell of their dick, which feels like it is lingering on my face.
“Dirty, dirty girl.”
Even though I’ve just been sucking their dick, they kiss me deeply.
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If you liked this dirty story, you might also like this one about face-fucking, which you can hear read aloud as audio porn. If you want to help me keep creating aural filth, please consider supporting me on Ko-fi.
Quinn Rhodes (he/him) is a freelance journalist, sex writer, and professional transsexual. His work focuses on dismantling shame and queering sex.
Golly. I love it. Gonna read it again (not sneakily at work this time!)
If not for my knees, I’d bat my eyelashes at JB and ask him to “encourage” a running habit.
This is so hot. It definitely makes clear the juxtaposition between being subjagated and built up. It’s something non-BDSM types will never quite understand, and it’s very hard to explain. If I didn’t have someone pushing me and punishing me and rewarding me, I’m not sure I’d ever get anything done.
I really liked this!