Encounters: The Gentleman Swede

[CW: Anonymous fully consensual rough deep throat play and anal penetration]

Message title: Cross-cultural relations

Katakora: "I wonder what a Swedish gentleman and a very dirty German girl could get up to together on a Friday night in Copenhagen? Let me know if you would like to explore that together."

I pressed *send*, my heart racing and my brain high with the thrill of its own badness. I might be feral, but I am also still a little shy. So when it comes to making contacts on the swingers site, I normally wait for people to write to me. I'm told that I'm not alone in this and that it is still a little unusual for women to take the initiative. But on that evening, buoyed by a previous success, it had dawned on me that I had the power of choice here. Sub or not, I didn't need to take what I was given. And this profile had seriously tickled my fancy... a gentleman who could be very ungentlemanly. Good with his words, clearly with some imagination. I could feel my own nerves, as I thought of my message out there in the ether, with no idea if it would meet with any response.

But it turns out I needn't have worried. When I woke early the next morning, there was a reply in my inbox. My heart skipped a beat as I clicked on the message.

TheSwede: "If you're dirty, I'd like to see what you can do."

A little smile of triumph tickled my lips. Yes! Here was my chance to show off my filthy words. It's what I do best, what I had been practicing for months in my writing. Yet there was also a little undercurrent of uncertainty. Some guys get off on a woman's sluttiness, others might not. Well, I'd just have to risk it. I sat down at my desk to type a reply. As soon as I started typing, I felt myself settle into my writer's mind - where the words just flow out of me and I can be anyone I imagine to be.

Katakora: "So, how to convince you that I'm dirty? That's not so hard. The trickier thing is how far to take it. How turned on will you be by my badness and when will it be too much?

This I contemplate as I should be working, but instead plan the climax of 48 hours of debauchery.

We don't get out much on this island. And you can't play here - they all bloody know each other. Which is tricky when after 14 years of raising kids, you discover that you are simply not done with sexual adventures. There is SO much left to try and I'm nothing if not novelty-seeking. My brain is very clearly the sexiest thing about me. My pleasure Dom in Texas calls it my clit brain, when he gets me to cum for him uncountable times in a row over thousands of miles distance.

But my body wants more too, always more. So perhaps I'll tell you about my 48 hours of wickedness. I will start in a hotel on Thursday afternoon with two guys I haven't met, following a little scene script that I have built from all our wishes. The guys are obsessed with rimming and urine play. Both are new(ish) to me and therefore inherently interesting, so I get to decide if I truly like it or not or if I just like it because I enjoy being a submissive slut. In compensation I get to try DP again, because it's been far too long since I last tried being that full. I expect to be well used and tired by the end of that, but the evening is long and a sweet guy has long begged to give me a Tantric massage, so I thought, why ever not?

I hope Friday is sunny, because Copenhagen is pretty in the sunshine and there is a (not so) sweet tall boy of 26 that wants to go for a walk in the park - and cum in my mouth a lot. I did say it was the kind of cock that was wasted if not inside a pussy, preferably my pussy, but we'll have to see about that. So I'll be well nourished for my last night in town.

That one is still wide open. There is an enthusiastic Englishman that loves MMF threesomes who I am writing with at the moment. Then there is this Swedish gentleman who is currently an interesting but unknown capacity and who by now is either quite hard or quite appalled. You tell me."

*Send*. Oh, I could get used to that feeling. The pure outrageousness that went beyond all reason and that no one would ever expect from my well-adjusted self. Yes, it's like a drug and perhaps I should worry about it, if it didn't feel so bloody good. So I didn't worry, but instead felt my mind restless and my body adrenalised, as I kept obsessively refreshing my inbox. At lunchtime there was a reply.

The Swede: "I can't do Friday night due to work commitments. But perhaps Friday morning? If we can find a time, I would love to create a setup. And yes... quite hard."

I blushed quietly in my office chair. Another meet? A fifth meet in 2 days? Really? Why was I even contemplating this? But as if on autopilot, smiling like the Kat that's got the cream, I found myself typing.

Katakora: "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I guess I don't have to check out of the hotel until 12. What better way to spend a Friday morning than playing? And I like the idea of you creating a setup very, very much."

*Send*. My heart was racing that time.

TheSwede: "I can be in Copenhagen for 8.30. Would that be good?"

I replied in the affirmative and added:

Katakora: "Am I catching your vibe right and you are happy to lead?"

The answer pinged into my inbox almost instantaneously.

TheSwede: "I am definitely leading! But I need boundaries, at least some. Any no go? Or any PLEASE?"

My body was already saying "Please!!", as I tried to gather my thoughts for a reply. I definitely had limits and I also didn't want to get into a situation where someone saw me in the flesh and changed their mind about the whole thing.

Katakora: "Absolutely! Boundaries are essential. Let me write more later. Shall we meet over morning coffee first?"

TheSwede: "No morning coffee. I want you right from the moment I see you."

I stopped breathing for a moment and held the gut punching feeling that hit me. Being desired - there was no more potent poison. It was the moment I stopped thinking and all reason went out of the window. The only thing I knew was that I wanted this. I wanted this badly.

TheSwede: "Two questions. I like to spit. This is often combined with breath control and deep throat play. Is that something you would be ok with?

Second question, I would love it if you just unlocked the door and waited for me in a comfortable chair, and for me just to walk in and slowly start to work on you..."

I shifted uncomfortably on my chair. I was throbbing violently and my mind was just a little hazy now.

Katakora: "I haven't done serious messy deep throat play since London, but yes, I'd like to. Also yes to spitting and breath control. To your second question - I like that a lot. No talking, no breaking the anticipation. I'm quite wet now."

TheSwede: "I like you wet!"

My residual voice of reason shook her head. Only two weeks ago I had shied away from meeting people in hotel rooms and this was what I was willing to do now? Actually not willing - craving!

I'd refined my telephonic check in and check out procedure with my husband and the swinging portal had a pretty thorough ID check procedure, but still...

[I know. Don't say anything, Daddy. I know, really.]

We discussed limits and safeword rules in depth - I will not include this here, so as not to break the magic, but it really was an extensive discussion and I didn't get any red flags.

So the day came to do the thing - to fly to Copenhagen for two days of sex with strangers. That was an aphrodisiac in itself. Hell, I wasn't even paying for the first hotel. My first afternoon and evening exceeded my expectations. There was no part of me that wasn't thoroughly pleasured, thoroughly used. The threesome had been perfect, the planned massage had delightfully descended into full blown fisting and there was still this to come - the gentleman Swede. I wrote to him that evening, lying in my pretty tropical themed four poster bed.

Katakora: "It's room 125 on the first floor. Just let me know when you have parked up and I'll unlock the door for you. You are explicitly invited to bring your non-gentlemanly self."

TheSwede: "When do you have to wake up tomorrow to be ready for me? You need to send me a green light by 7, so I can be sure there is no change of plan." Signed: "no gentleman".

I agreed. I don't know how I ever got to sleep. Post orgasmic exhaustion must have made it possible. Nevertheless it wasn't until 1.30 that I finally dropped off. I woke at 6, not at 7 - predictably. My stomach did curious flips as I gave my green light.

Katakora: "Just to let you know that my pussy is a little bit tender from too much fisting (don't ask) and my throat has had a lot of cock, so my gagging reflex is worse than normal. Bad, bad slut. Sorry, sir."

TheSwede: "So you did not save your throat for me? Might cost."

Katakora: "I'm so sorry. I don't seem to recall being given much of a choice, but I'll take my punishment like a good girl."

By 7.05, another message landed in my inbox.

TheSwede: "1.25h."

Katakora: "Are you counting me down now, Sir?"

TheSwede: "Yes. According to your pictures you have a beautiful pussy. I want you with NO underwear, pussy in the open."

My breath caught in the back of my throat, as I pictured myself waiting for him.

Katakora: "Yes, sir. Just the corset then."

The Swede: "Yes. GPS says 8.22. Are you wet?"

Katakora: "Yes, sir."

I was. I was also high on adrenaline, as I laboriously got myself ready. My hands were shaking as I was putting on my eyeliner. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I murmured under my breath, trying to get a hold of my nerves. I fumbled with the hooks on the corset, messing it up several times. I rolled up my hold up stockings, getting one of them on the wrong way around. The minutes were ticking down. I finished and checked my phone. 8.25.

TheSwede: "I am here, just outside. Send me a message when you're ready and then open the door."

I was feeling shaky, as I placed the chair, so it was facing the door. Finally, I opened the door just slightly.

Katakora: "I'm ready."

I sat down and waited. I could barely breathe and my heart was practically jumping out of my chest. I kept nervously adjusting my position, arching my back and spreading my thighs enough to display my soaking pussy.

I heard heavy footsteps outside and the door opened.

He was tall, broad, with a robust but attractive face, just a little younger than me (but I knew that much at least).

Our eyes locked, as we took each other in. We didn't speak. Not a word.

His eyes darkened as they traced the line from my face to the thrust up breasts in my corset and down to my wide open pussy.

He took off his leather jacket, then his T-shirt and peeled down his jeans. I watched him silently, my body taut as a bow with anticipation. He knew I was watching him and our eyes locked again, before he peeled down his boxers to reveal his ample cock. He hadn't oversold himself. I prayed silently that he didn't think I had.

He stepped closer until he towered above me, one of his long arms reaching for my pussy. My eyes hadn't left his, but now they closed as he slowly squeezed my mound in his big hand. A soft moan escaped the back of my throat. I made myself open my eyes again, as he squeezed again and I showed him the pleasure in my face. He didn't smile. Instead he placed his foot on my thigh and inched himself closer to me.

"Open your mouth," he murmured, his melodic Swedish accent softening his words, and held up his smooth, heavy ball sack. He pressed his heavy sack against my lips, demanding entry. He fed me first one of his balls, before stuffing his second into my overfilled mouth. My eyes widened at him in surprise.

"I'm going to use you as my little fuck toy," I heard him say, gagged by his sack. I shuddered under him, as he kept playing with my soaked pussy. It was more than just submitting to his every whim, it was the act of being used and degraded like this that triggered an instant heavy pulse deep in my belly. I ran my tongue around his balls, as much I could, and heard him moan under his breath. I swirled and licked, my tongue constrained in its movement by the too-muchness of him.

At last, he pulled his balls out of my aching jaws and I gasped for air, face to face with his now rock hard cock. It swayed heavy and meaty just in front of my mouth, precum leaking from its tip. I didn't need to be told to open up. I slid my mouth down on his cock as far as it would go. I felt this eagerness to please, to show him what I could do. Up and down my head moved, my body still shuddering with excitement. My hands fumbled in the empty space until I found his hips. I held onto them, my hands on him feeling strangely more intimate than his cock in my mouth, as though touch was forbidden, as though I should just be his receptacle.

"Pull yourself down onto it," he ordered.

I pulled. His bulbous head pushed against the constriction in my throat. I pulled down firmly and then he was in - in the depth of my airways, filling my throat, like a plug slotting into my socket, choking me, filling me up completely. Reflexively, my hands flew from his hips as his massive head lodged itself in my depth. His hands were on my head then. Maintaining a firm hold on me, his fingers interlaced behind my neck, as he held me in place.

I stayed there as long as I could, trying to breathe through my nose. I tried to pull in air through my nostrils, but there was nothing. Wet, obscene noises emanated from the back of my throat, as he let go of my head and let me pull up. My throat had filled with thick saliva.

"Don't swallow it down, I want it all," he growled. I brought it up, spitting it back on his cock. "Good girl!"

He rubbed his slippery cock over my face in some messy, filthy, abusive caress and pushed it back into my mouth. He went back down into my depth until he wedged himself into the place he demanded. This time he started rocking his pelvis against my mouth, and kept going continuously until he heard me gurgling, my mouth overflowing with stringy drool. When he finally pulled out, my mouth was full up with throat juice. I spat out more saliva over his already glistening cock, gasping for breath.

I barely knew what was happening when he pulled me up from the chair. Confused and disoriented, I stumbled blindly as he manhandled me onto the bed. Unsure what to do, I knelt, thinking he would want to use my mouth more in the same way. "On your back!"

I did as I was told and lay down. He climbed over me and aimed his straining erection at my parted lips like a weapon, ready to assault my throat all over again. "Open up!"

I didn't hesitate. I knew he would face fuck me in earnest now. Nobody had ever done this to me, not in this way anyway. He literally started thrusting into my mouth as if it was a pussy, his big body above me, with his ball sack closing off my nostrils. I kept expecting his mouth to close on my pussy, but he did no such thing. This was rough, raw, dominant work and yet my body was on fire.

I was running out of air below him, my throat already gurgling with more spit. He pulled free of me and let me bring up the saliva onto his cock, heaving for air. I heard him groan in approval. His idea of praise was to rub his slobbery wet balls all over my face, massaging the spit into my skin like messy fucking balsam. And repeat. And again. Everything was wet and I could barely see - not that I needed to.

I was still getting my breath back as he climbed off me and I heard his footsteps move away. There was a rustling from his jacket and the noise of a condom wrapper being opened, followed by the unmistakable noise of rubber unrolling and popping into place. "Sit on the chair!" He commanded. Dazed, I wiped the drool from my eyes and sat up. My body felt weak, as I got up and sat down on the chair again. "No, the other way around!" he corrected.

I turned around, hugging the backrest of the chair, my messed up face resting against the leather. "Is that your lube?" I heard him ask matter-of-factly.

"Yes," I murmured hoarsely, as I heard the sound of gel being squeezed out of the near empty tube. He came up behind me and smeared a finger of lube around my arsehole and onto his cock. I moaned softly, as much in anticipation as in pleasure. He lined himself up with my anus. Then he pushed up. I had known it was coming, yet he still took me by surprise. He hadn't lubed me up from the inside and my guts were screaming at me with burning pain. I yelped in pain and cried "Yellow, yellow, yellow! Slow, please, just hold it deep!!!"

He listened and did as I asked, as my burning arsehole tried to get used to the intrusion. After a moment, he started moving his cock from side to side, as if he was shaking me down on it. I groaned, still with some pain, but feeling myself stretch for him.

The familiar feeling of having my arse stuffed spread through me, my happy pussy weeping onto the leather of the chair in response. He started to move then, shallow, rapid thrusts at first, then increasingly deeper, until he settled on a rhythm of long deep gut wrenching thrusts. As the burning subsided it was replaced by a deeper pleasure pain sensation as he physically ravaged my insides. I cried out softly, as he suddenly pulled out and physically moved me back onto the bed. "On your front!"

I knelt, thinking that's what he wanted. "No, legs down! Together!"

"Yes!" I gasped with hungry desire. It had been years since I had received anal penetration in prone position and I still dreamt about it. I found myself shaking as he angled my hips, before positioning himself and sinking himself hilt deep into my arse. A deep groan escaped me, when he bottomed out.

Then he started to fuck my arse in earnest. I know my noises must have gone crazy at that point. I cannot be sure, because that is when I lost it. There was nothing but my tight arse and his fat cock and the way he thrust into me mercilessly. My depths still weren't fully open for him and he hit me hard, deep and bruisingly. I heard myself cry and moan, part in pleasure, part in pain and he clamped his hand over my mouth. His thrusts were vicious and without let up, making me tap out, tapping his thigh three times in quick succession, the agreed sign to stop.

I lay under him heaving for breath. My softening body opened up more, allowing him to sink deeper, stretching me more. He started thrusting again more slowly this time. I was fully open to him now, without any pain. "Yes, please, yes," I whimpered into the bed clothes, my smudged drool covered face leaving a messy imprint. I cannot even describe the feel of having my arse fucked like that, the sheer intensity and depth of pleasure. Everything felt wet and slippery now, as he squelched his way in and out of my dark hole. My pussy spasmed and contracted on its own emptiness over and over again. The pleasure was overwhelming, deep, all consuming.

He paused and pushed up one of my legs, so it was pulled up by the side of my hip. He straddled my prone leg and started moving again, twisting and turning his cock in my arse. I barely recognised the guttural noises I was producing, as he explored every inch of my hungry arse. My noises only seemed to spur him on to speed up his pace and return to his merciless attack on my insides, fucking me almost cruelly until I was crying out and desperately tapping on his thigh once more. He stilled instantly and held himself there.

The blood was rushing in my ears. I was almost delirious with the intensity of the sensation by then and all I could hear was our ragged breaths. He had to be almost as exhausted as me, yet he started moving again, slowly at first. One of his big hands was on the small of my back now, pushing me down into the bed and the other doing the same to the side of my face. Being held down like this only added to my arousal. I could feel him gather his power, as he gathered speed steadily, building and building until he slammed into my immobilised body like a ragdoll. The bedding muffled my cries as he obliterated my arse for a final time. I held on and abandoned myself to the frenzy until a particularly fierce thrust hit me. I yelped and frantically tapped on his thigh. He stopped, still pinning me and I could hear him breathe.

He carefully pulled out and released me. I heard him get up from the bed. I was almost entirely out of it, dizzy, breathless, exhausted. I heard him pull off the condom and wash himself at the basin. Then he came around and sat down in front of me, his arse parked on the window sill, his legs spread and his hard cock just a couple of feet from me.

He was inspecting me, the wrecked masterpiece he had just created. I looked up at him. The invitation to suck his cock was obvious, but my body was fucked, my mind was shot and I needed instruction.

"Suck my cock! Slowly this time, lovingly!"

I shakily got onto my hands and knees and crawled to sit on the edge of the bed. I was aware that my arse juice must be smearing all over the duvet, but couldn't get myself to care. I closed my lips around his cockhead and started running my tongue around his sensitive rim.

"Mmm, good," he murmured. "That's perfect!" I let him sink deeper into my mouth, keeping it slow, keeping it gentle. Yet he didn't seem to be able to resist the lure of my throat and started to rock his hips slowly again, pushing himself deeper and deeper into my mouth, until he practically made me slide off the edge of the bed with his thrusts. "Lie down again!" He groaned.

I lay back down on my back for him to straddle my face once more. I knew where this was going to go and I opened up for him without needing any prompting. He was hot and sweaty above my shattered body, but somehow he summoned the energy to start thrusting into my mouth once more. I didn't even gag, as I lay boneless and pliable at his mercy. The thick saliva started flowing instantly this time, covering his cock, covering my face. He didn't stop this time as I sputtered and gasped. Instead he thrust faster and faster, his balls banging into my face. There was spit everywhere. I barely felt him tensing, but then there was the thick salty taste of cum, running down the back of my throat, diluted with a filthy mixer of drool. He pulled out and jerked his cock off with a few strokes, shooting the last strings of cum over my face.

"Mmm," he crooned with delight, not missing the chance of working his cocktail into my skin with his cock and balls. Over my nose, my cheeks, my forehead and up into my hair.

Then he climbed off and collapsed next to me on the bed. We both smiled at each other fully for the first time since starting this madness.

"Fuck, that was intense," he said.

I tried to reply, but my throat wasn't cooperating.

"You want some water?"

I nodded.

He passed me a bottle. "You're ok?"

I cleared my throat - which probably wasn't that ok right now.

"More than ok!" I said hoarsely at last. "I haven't had my throat or my arse fucked like that for a very long time. I mean I had plenty of anal yesterday, but..." I petered out.

"But not like this!" He grinned.

"Exactly. Thank you for coming across the bridge for it!"

"My pleasure! I'll be having a smile on my face all week." We lay quietly, contently for a moment until he got up. "Is it ok if I borrow a towel?"

"Yeah, sure, have a shower, if you like!" I murmured tiredly.

"Nah," he replied, smelling himself. "I like it like that."

He put his clothes back on and gave me a final grin. "Enjoy the rest of your stay!"

"I'm sure I will," I grinned back.

And there he went, the Gentleman Swede. Or perhaps more of an animal? I never knew his name.