CHOKING

K is for Karen and a Kink I didn’t know

A busty girl from uni’ shows me exactly what gets her off

This is a series of stories about different women I’ve slept with to the one you’ll find in most of my stories so far. E.g. My first time in a sex club — written from her point of view.

I’ll see if I can remember one for each letter of the alphabet, and what their special kink was!

We both shared rooms with other students, but we both wanted to fuck each other madly at the end of a night out.

Karen wasn’t the prettiest girl in the world but at the age of 19 I’d never had the chance to touch such big breasts. She was only my age and so they were not only huge but still pert. As we walked up the hill, away from the town, to find a quiet spot, I kept on feeling them. I didn’t care if anyone saw, and a few people did, I was drunk and horrendously horny.

When we got to a field that looked quiet enough to lie down and fuck in, Karen stopped me at the kissing gate. A kiss I thought of course, but she also took my hand off her breasts. Damn, I’d been enjoying that. I wanted to get my cock between them and fulfil a titwank fantasy that all my previous lovers weren’t stacked up top enough to allow. Now she was trying to stop me even touching them, when I’d pinched her nipple in front of a group of men we’d passed 10 minutes ago. She didn’t care when they’d shouted lewd things at us, why was she being a prude now?

With the fence between us I couldn’t even rub my cock against her and it wasn’t within her reach either. But her neck was. She brought my hand to her neck and held it there, closing her eyes and letting her head fall backwards. I didn’t know what she wanted but she helped with that. She squeezed her own hand on to mine, forcing me to squeeze her neck.

I was in a bit of a panic to start with, once she let her own hand drop, did I hold her still like that, or let go now? Neither. She wanted it tighter still and went back to holding my hand and pushing it on to her throat. Now I understood, now I knew what to do. I held my own cock through my jeans to help lose my fear and started to choke her. She held on to the fence and so there was no other contact with her body but for my hand, but that I think was more than enough for her. I held tighter still and wondered if it was starting to affect her breathing.

I moved in more closely as if going to kiss her but really just to listen to her breathing. It was shallow now and heavy sounding. I knew if I used both hands I could be a lot more brutal but that worried me and anyway I needed a hand on my cock as she wasn’t touching it.

I got it out, into the fresh air, and started to stroke, looking at her mouth hanging open, her head lolling backwards. She looked like she was having orgasms. I was so close to cumming and knew I’d have to stop holding her throat when I did, I wouldn’t be so brave then, so I moved my hand allowing a better grip, to give her a crescendo. I now had my thumb on her throat, crushing her adams apple with as much force as I could. My hand even hurt a little under the strain. She was still composed but seemed to swoon and lose her balance for a moment. She gripped the fence harder.

I would never have thought I could be turned on by this but now I was. I wondered, years later, how she came to learn this was good for her. How had she first discovered she enjoyed such a violent kink when still a few months away from turning twenty? Today teenagers see all that stuff in terrible porn but back then it took time and age to become dirty and kinky. Boobs and the missionary position were enough. But not for her, she wanted me to choke her out.

At least that’s what it seemed. Luckily, perhaps, I never found out how far she wanted me to go as I came by my own hand in arcs of sprayed cum that found their way through the gaps in the fence and covered her pretty dress.

I let go as soon as my orgasm receded and she opened her eyes wide and gasped in fits, recovering from both the physical strain of barely having breathed for the last five minutes as well as possible embarrassment. Though Karen wasn’t embarrassed at all I would soon see. We had more fun to come…