The Erotic Archive

The Things My Pussy Can Do!

For me, sex is a part of who I am.

And I want to be clear about what I mean. I don’t mean the action of sex — I mean the energy of sex. For me, sex equates to pleasure, so I seek the energy of pleasure.

Whether I’m flirting with a stranger, demanding attention in a situation, or walking into a room full of people, a few people, or even just one person and watching the energy shift…See, that is a form of sex for me.

I adore moments when I’m amazed by myself.

There have been many moments in my sex life where my goal was to make each experience different — more exciting, more pleasurable, fuck, even more shocking than the last experience with a partner.

But there is something so fucking titillating about a moment where I amaze myself… especially when I’m not even trying to.

I’ve always known my pussy gets super wet.

But this time? My pussy was wetter than I had ever experienced.

We had been fucking for three hours, and I noticed my pussy just kept getting wetter and wetter. At one point, I stopped him to make sure he hadn’t cum and that he was still wearing a condom — because my pussy was that wet.

I wanted to ride him, so I made him lie down. I took off the condom he had on and put on a new one, because we had been using that one for a while.

I climbed on top in the frog position and started bouncing.

And then I heard that sound.

You know the sound… that mac & cheese sound.

It was so loud he noticed it too and said something about how wet my pussy was.

But I still wasn’t convinced.

So I stopped and reached down to touch my pussy, because I just knew he had cum and it was leaking out of the condom.

When I reached down, my hand brushed against my inner thigh…

Soaked.

I touched the top of his thighs…

Soaked.

That moment caught me off guard.

And right then, I decided I wanted to know just how wet my pussy could get without me squirting.

The next time my juicy pussy amazed me, I was eating pussy.

She was lying on her back on the sofa, and I was squatting on the floor. I wanted to enjoy her body. I was licking and sucking up and down her legs, her inner thighs, her pussy lips… taking my time before drinking every drop her pussy had to offer.

Her pussy was so fucking good.

But then I noticed something.

While I was enjoying her, I felt like I was about to climax.

That had NEVER happened to me before.

I wanted to cum.

So I kept going — but this time, I was enjoying her in a way that pleased me.

And the crazy part? She was enjoying everything I was doing.

Not that there was ever an issue with me pleasing her — she’s vocal as fuck about her pleasure, and I fucking LOVE that, because I’m the same way.

But this time was different.

This time, I was focused on my pleasure… and she was still fully in it.

She yelled out, “FUCK, I’M CUMING!”

But I was almost there too, and I needed that orgasm.

We had talked about her fantasy of experiencing a forced orgasm, and this felt like the perfect moment.

So I put my weight on her legs to stop her from closing them… and I kept eating her.

I could feel my walls tightening. My clit throbbing.

And then I came.

I stopped eating her and slid two fingers inside her, fingering her until she came again.

Then I stood up to kiss her and grab the towel off the arm of the sofa.

And when I looked down…

There was a little puddle on the floor.

At first, it looked like someone spilled lube.

But then I realized…

That puddle was me.

Blessed Pussy

There’s something about a well-dressed woman that makes my pussy wet. Her attention to detail with colors, patterns, fitting, layers… whew.

She was wearing a heather gray suit. Her pants hugged her legs, hips, and ass perfectly. Her jacket fit like it was tailored just for her, and her white dress shirt was steamed and buttoned all the way up to her neck, complemented with a gray satin bowtie. I always loved how she paired funky socks with her complete look.

We were preparing to go to church, and this was one of those rare times when I was dressed and ready before her. Watching her get dressed was foreplay.

So I sat on the bench, watching her.

She was about to put on her suspenders when she noticed me watching. She walked over, put her left knee between my crossed legs to separate them, then squatted down in front of me. She kissed me on the lips and said,

“Sweetheart, would you please help me put on my suspenders?”

She handed me the suspenders and stood up with her back turned to me. I attached them in the back, then the front. She slid her thumbs into the straps at her waist and slowly drew them up to adjust them.

I winked at her and told her we needed to leave before we were late.

But my mind was preoccupied…

All I could think about was her dressed in nothing but those straps and suspenders. If I stared hard enough, I could see her black lace bra through her shirt.

Like most Black folks, we had lunch plans after service.

While at the restaurant, I told her how bad I wanted her and how I had been envisioning her

the entire time in church. She laughed but didn’t say anything. I took her silence as shyness.

When we made it home, as usual when I wear my strappy, buckled heels, she sat me on the arm of the sofa and squatted down to take them off.

But today…

She licked and kissed each of my ankles.

She told me to sit on the sofa and relax — she needed to use the restroom and would return.

We kissed, and she left the room.

I decided we needed drinks, so I went to the kitchen to create a sexy potion.

While gathering my ingredients, I heard her call my name.

I looked up…

And there she was.

Dressed EXACTLY as I had envisioned her all service.

She walked over to me, grabbed me by the neck, and kissed me. Then she turned me around, pulled up my dress, smacked my ass, and pulled down my panties.

She threw my left leg up on the bar, kneeled down, and started eating and fingering my pussy.

I had been aroused on and off all day, so I had a build-up of sexual tension.

I came and squirted all over her face.

She got up, grabbed my face, rubbed her pussy juice–soaked face over mine, and said,

“Good pussy.”

Then she got behind me, slid inside of me, and FUCKED ME like she had something to prove.

Pussy Power

As the influencers say… storytime, lol.

I’ve always considered myself a connoisseur of pleasure—craving experiences that build on the last, always looking for that next level of sensation. I was 22 when I discovered just how powerful my pussy truly was.

He was one of those partners who loved to please. Every time we played, he made it his mission to elevate my experience. One night, mid-session, he asked me if I had ever squirted.

“No,” I answered, genuinely curious.

He explained that it was a very intense kind of orgasm. I was intrigued—curious, a little unsure, but completely open.

He knelt between my legs and locked eyes with me, a devilish little grin spreading across his face. He lifted my hips and slid a pillow underneath me, then placed his hand firmly over my pelvic area. Slowly, deliberately, he entered me and began thrusting—deep, precise, upward strokes that made my clit tingle.

The pressure was unfamiliar, but so damn good. He moaned, his movements deepening, and the pressure on my pelvis intensified. I felt my walls tighten, my moans deepen, and that urge—the one that makes you say, “Wait… I think I need to pee.”

I tried to tell him, and he whispered, “It’s okay.”

I pleaded again, the sensation overwhelming, and he said once more, “It’s okay.” Then—release.

My body surged. I screamed as fluid burst from me. I had never felt anything like it—pure, wild, explosive pleasure. But he didn’t stop. His rhythm stayed strong, his hand still pressing down, locked into that perfect spot.

Then he wrapped his arms around me, lifted me onto him, and whispered, “Hold on.”

Still inside me, he thrust deeper. I could feel the vibration of his moans in my ear, intensifying everything. My body melted into his. I could barely keep hold of him.

“Hold on to me,” he growled.

I did. And with one final thrust, he came.

I'll Play

You ever show up at church in a corset and thigh high fishnet stockings? No? Well, I have. Before you clutch your pearls, let me explain how I got this far. Your girl very much loves being a dominatrix. However, I decided to see if I'd enjoy being a submissive. I absolutely did. 

Handsome slightly older man who enjoyed being non committal, and feisty younger woman who doesn't mind being spanked. The arrangement was as follows... When he wanted to see me he would tell me so, give me instructions and I follow. This particular request was for me to wear a long coat with just my lingerie when I arrived to see him. Not one problem was had with my directive but there were several logistical issues at hand. In the spirit of not upsetting the delicate balance of things I said nothing and got creative.

The ride was 2 hours via Amtrak which is actually pleasant but what in the name of Batman's tights was I going to do about changing my clothes?! Not to mention who in the world was going to lace my corset?!! Up to this point my bestie was keeping me laced up, literally.

So, logic dictated that I get dressed before my train ride. Yes, I sat on an Amtrak train for 2 hours in a full boned corset, face flawless and feeling decadent. That was hurdle number one. The next hurdle was killing time that morning before we were to meet up. So I went to church.

Not the first place you'd think to hit up before you know you're going to get folded up like a lawn chair and have your chakras realigned. However, I took the opportunity to visit family I knew would be there. Now, before you condemn me to the fiery depth, I was sheathed in a purple, just below knee length sweater dress, gold accents and neutral toned snake skin print heels. Yes, you could see the fishnets, but they were micro holes and brown, so they weren't in heavy contrast to my chocolate skin. Aside from that, no one could tell that I was planning on begging someone for forgiveness later.

There was an intense satisfaction and the throb of my clit was as loud as an 808 knowing I had a little secret. In the most demure way possible I sat through the service, catching the glances of curious eyes. Wondering if they knew my secret. I did have to shimmy to the ladies room once or twice to keep the overflowing of moisture between my thighs in check. The LAST thing I needed was a wet spot on my dress. Afterwards, I hugged my aunt, giggled and caught up and caught my Lyft to my intended engagement.

When I arrived, he opened the door, the frown on his face was obvious. He complimented me, told me I looked beautiful but that he was disappointed that I didn't follow his instructions. I said nothing as I entered his apartment. I stood in the middle of the room, head down and quiet as he took in the site of me. 

From behind, he whispered his disapproval in my ear and that he expected me to spend my time rectifying my transgression. Still I said nothing. Instead, a quiet knowing grin crept across my perfectly painted purple lips. He began to loosen the knitted belt tied around my waist. Sitting down on his bed behind me, he ran his strong hands gently up my legs, slowly pushing my dress up. 

Then the abrupt halt in his movements. BOOM! We got action. I let a silent giggle scamper across my mind. He discovered my stockings were attached to a garter belt. He raised up my dress above my waist and gasped.

"You're wearing lingerie!" To which I softly replied, "I am". He ran his hands with hushed excitement between my thighs only to jump up and stand in front of me. "They're crotchless!" I just smiled knowingly. He discovered the crotchless panties I had on. 

At this point he quit trying to preserve the wrapping and all but shook me out of my clothes. When he got my dress completely over my head he stepped back to admire my handy work. Heck, if he would have had a mirror close I would've admired me too. Satin black sweetheart neckline corset, 38G, 38inch waist, my 46 inch hips draped in black floral lace, thick thighs and all of maybe 215lbs. Waxed, silky and as smooth as a custom paint job on a classic car. Smelling like I know you want this.

After a moment of silence I could see a thought hit him hard. His eyes widened and he blurted out "wait! Didn't you say you were at church?!"  

"I did"

"You were corseted and crotchless in church?!" 

"I was"

"Did anyone know?"

"I don't believe so."

"Good girl "

The shiver that went down my spine when he said that almost took me out.

Needless to say, I learned exactly how dehydrated one human can truly be that night...

Make It Rain

I had been fucking him on and off for 6 years. Sex with him has always been amazing. He's open to trying anything, which has always kept our sex exciting. Every time we fuck, my goal is to outdo our last session. This time, he got me.

My back was against the wall, and we were kissing intensely. My pussy was dripping wet, since he knows how much I love kissing. I slid my hand down to play with my clit. He noticed, pulled back, and just watched me. I smiled and told him, “Don’t take your eyes off mine.” He stood there, locked in, while I played.

I pulled my hand out, painted my lips with my juices, and sucked my fingers. “Mmmm, this water is so good. You want some?” I teased. He grabbed me and licked every drop from my lips. Then he dropped to his knees, slid off my panties, spread my legs, and started eating my pussy.

I was about to cum, but I stopped him. I told him to lie on the floor. Climbing on top of him, I pulled out his dick and slowly slid him inside me. I LOVE the feeling of every initial entrance. I started riding him, and each time I lifted up, he pulled my hips down harder.

Then he stopped me and said, “I want you to piss.” For the first time, he shocked me. He pulled me down, wrapped his arms around me, and started fucking me harder. Then he whispered in my ear, “Piss on me.”

I said I didn’t have to, so he slapped my ass and repeated, “Piss.” I screamed his name. He slapped me again: “Piss.” I screamed his name once more and squirted. He laughed and said, “That’s not what I said.”

You Belong on Your Knees

We spent weeks talking about D/s dynamics. He was intrigued by the idea of being under my control. I let him know that I would grant him the opportunity—once he proved himself worthy. Little did he know, I had plans for him.I wanted him on his knees, begging to touch my soft, luxurious skin. Begging to see eyes gazing into him—looking through him.Begging to hear the sound of my voice and the musical notes of pleasure echoing through the room.Begging to taste my sweet, juicy pussy.

He always said eating me is his guilty pleasure.

I planned the scene and was excited to share it with my new pleasure tool. When he walked in, I was sitting in a chair dressed in black lace. He was told to only address me as Goddess, walk in and undress, kneel before me with his eyes to the floor, and ask—graciously—to touch me.

He said, “Goddess, I am not worthy, but I beg you… may I please feel your touch?”

I reached out my foot and allowed him to kiss my sole. I told him to thank me with each kiss. Then I pulled my foot away and stood up.

“Crawl and follow me to the room,” I commanded.

Once he reached the threshold, I said, “Graciously ask for entry.”

I sat in silence for two minutes, savoring his discomfort as he pleaded for my attention.

“Goddess, you are so beautiful. I beg to be at your feet. Please, may I enter your palace of pleasure?”

“Crawl to me,” I replied.

As he crawled into the room, I stood behind him with a long ostrich feather, teasing his bare skin. He moaned softly.

I flogged him.“Your moans are weak. Louder, toy. You don’t want to bore me, do you?”

I flogged his ass again. This time, his moan was deeper—almost a growl.

I laughed.“Good toy.”

He reached the side of my bed and said, “Gracious Goddess, may I please get the floor?”

I looked him in the eyes.“No. I desire an orgasm. And you're in the perfect position to give me one.”

He smiled.“Thank you, Goddess. I crave the taste of your pussy.”

I smiled, sat on the bed, opened my legs, and pointed to my thigh.“Lay your head here.”

I slid two fingers inside myself. He moaned—this time, the sound echoed through the room.

“Good toy,” I whispered, then coated his lips with my juices like chapstick.

He asked to lick them.“No,” I replied.

He growled. So I coated them again.

“May I please touch my dick, Goddess?” he asked.

“That was weak. Beg better.”

“I know my pleasure belongs to you, but… may I please touch my dick?”

“Good toy. For doing such a good job, you may lick your lips while you stroke.”

He smiled and licked his lips like it was his favorite flavor of ice cream.

I was still fingering myself. The sounds of my fingers sliding in and out of my wet pussy filled the room.

“May I please taste you?” he asked.

“No. You don’t follow directions.”

“I’m sorry. Goddess, may I please taste you?”

“No. And now you’ll suffer.”

I grabbed my wand and placed it on his shoulder, adjusting his head to hold it steady. I slid my pussy up and down the wand, slowly. I could hear him growling beneath my moans.

As I came, I gripped his head, holding the wand in place.

I shouted my own name.

When my body settled, I started laughing.

“Damn, this pussy is so good. Do you want a taste?”