The first kinky sex I ever had was all words.
Before any slapping, spanking, scratching, or biting, all my boundaries were verbal. Before I ever tied anyone up, choked them, or held them down while while fucking them up the ass, I whispered honest things in her ear as she did the same. Some of them blend together into memories that are only half formed, but there’s a string of words that planted the seeds.
First there was Kaity on my bed with her uniform skirt around her waist as she refused to be quiet. The window was open, my mother was gardening, and she begged me to fuck her with no volume control at all.
“She’s going to hear you,” I whispered.
“Good,” she moaned, “let her know you’re fucking me. I don’t care, just don’t stop.”
And then a year later, I knelt on the floor while Stephanie talked to her ex on the phone. I ate her pussy and she stopped trying to pretend otherwise in the middle of the call. She came with him on the other end of the line, my tongue against her clit and my fingers inside her cunt.
It was Melissa who whispered, “I want to fuck your roommate” into my ear one morning when I was inside her, and I made her tell me about it in detail. When we came she was practically screaming his name, but we hadn’t once raised a finger. Without words we were simply two sweaty teenagers, fucking on a tiny dorm bed.
The fighting and bruising all came later. The belts, the cuffs, and the wax followed along, but it was always the words that hit me the hardest. Even years later, when Alison lay over my lap, her ass red from my hand, it was her words that made me hard.
“I promise I’ll do better,” she moaned, my fingers finally pushing into her wet cunt as I struggled not to come beneath her.