Pain Deferred pt 5

With apologies for the long delay, here is Grace’s encounter with her flogger.

– –

She saw those long heavy falls in her mind, as she felt them tickling her back. Tracing over her shoulders with just enough weight to imply their texture. Then the spread of hard impact, of fast propelled leather on ivory skin. Something about that multi-layered pain began to speak to her from within sensation’s stimuli. A 2nd and 3rd blow confirmed that this device, in his hands, might be a new level of pleasure. As the teasing trace moved to the lower she listened for the blow to begin, but a 2nd trail of leather over expectant skin came first.

Then the blow that called pleasure forth from deep within, urging her to savour this moment. Only one this time, before the leather trail began again; over and over from curve of back to the beginning of her sore redness. Just the tingle of how those weighty traces might feel over her abused flesh was causing more juices to flow within her aching twitching pussy. The blows created a delicious pain but not as much as she might have expected. Was he holding back? Why?

The shudders started as he rested the full weight of those leather falls on her sensitised arse, pulling them so slowly up her curves, swirling them across her cheeks, circling upwards to lean them against her delicate buttocks. She struggled to quell her impulse to squirm, to raise herself upwards seeking force, impact, violence. Oh yes. Now! As he moved the flogger away, no contact, that air surely betokening the divine vicious impact she craved.

And contact she got, of the handle’s bulbous end opening her lips, juices coating the lovely leather and spread by it over the full extent of her vulva. That delicious lubed massage sending delirious signals running from pussy to nipples, to toes, to brain. When he started up a long luscious stroke up to and over her clit, her moans grew louder, desperate attempts to fuck into the pressure with her still swollen pussy. She was so close already.

‘Oh God, Fuck. I’m going to come.’

All contact ceased.

‘Not yet.’

Frustration groaned from her.

Then she had no space for thought, no capacity for speech. The repeated blows started to be the only things in her existence apart from the sexual power surging through her body, she had no consciousness of her surroundings. Even the much desired presence of her lover, her Master, existed only as a lodestone within her heart, a dedicatee of her total tribute.  Then a change in sensation, as blows whipped the arcing tips across her skin, instead of directly onto it. This continued as she heard his voice. She remembered what he had said later, but did not seem to have processed them at the time.

‘You wanted this

And more

I will meet your need

With this and more

I give myself to you with every blow

As you give yourself to me.’

The direct blows after the voice showed her that before he had been gentle. She entered some weird timeless space. A space of dark warmth and delicious pain. In which she came, in which she was the earthquake within a body the volcanic aching surge, of building tension and orgasmic release.

Her partial return was to continued pain-stimulus, no longer in orgasm’s throes but still in what she would learn to call sub-space. When the lashes stopped and his hands rested on her brutalised flesh, she heard him call her name.

‘Grace. Grace!

I am going to make you come again.’

The stinging pain on her pussy was tremendous. It was also unbelievably erotic, a direct trigger onto the electric switch of her clit. The narrow crop landed again and again on her pussy lips. Before his fingers thrust just inside her. Firm and hard against her sweet spot, repeatedly. Other fingers pinched her clit and moved. Her pussy walls moved with them, clenching in waves over his.

And he kept going, as she shrieked and moaned and shuddered as best she could within her restraints, driving her again up and over the peak, never letting her fall far before the next ascent. And then the crop began to land sharp and hard upon her arse. Her world became enclosed again, with this burning stinging pain as its centre.

She found herself being softly kissed, hands gentle on her body, her name being softly spoken in that voice she found she loved. Cuffs were still on her wrists and ankles but free to move. She began to kiss back eagerly but not too hard, her unconscious self perhaps recognising her emotional exhaustion – as it seemed did he.

Him. Her lover, her Muse – her need, her desire. Now, at last, her Master.

 

So they rested for a while, as he caressed her aroused skin, murmured the types of things she had longed to hear as pillow-talk for so long. They kissed softly, with passion and affection, as he held her. He praised her behaviour and her endurance, but insisted he must now treat her wounds of pleasure. From his bag he drew a small tub. ‘Arnica cream.’ He smoothed it softly over her arse which had received such cruel, divine treatment, before returning to cradle her in his arms.

‘When we have rested a little more, and you have refreshed yourself, I would like to see how many successive orgasms you can experience.’

The smile accompanying this statement was both loving and wicked, and Grace was melting again.

– – –

tbc

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Pain Deferred. Pt 4

She checked her watch and placed it on the bed, undid the belt of her satin robe and discarded it, and knelt on the carpet facing the window, head bowed, waiting for him. He had said she must wait for 5 minutes but have no means of tracking those seconds except within her own head. She thought of what she had asked of him, what he had promised to give, and his request that she submit first, allow herself this abdication of control. He had promised her pain though, pain she had been unable to receive, but for which she was desperate. The litany of flogger, paddle, crop and cane ran through her mind, and her damp pussy became awash with her juices in moments, as she waited, alone, patient, desperate. Still, she was waiting for his first touch.

Surely this was more than 5 minutes. Maybe he was delayed. But she remembered he had said her phone could be left on for now to reassure her, although he claimed notoriously punctuality. Her legs were beginning to tremble, not from any physical stress of her position but from her emotional turmoil; rampant lust mixed with doubt… and fear she now acknowledged. Fear of whether she could in fact take what she wanted to experience.

A sound. Footfalls muffled by the carpet outside, the keycard in the lock! She heard him move into the room, and was desperate to see him, but she kept her discipline as he had said she should, her head remained bowed, eyes fixed on the carpet before her. She heard what must be a bag plop onto the bed and then she heard that lovely dark voice.

‘Grace. You are stunning. Even the beautiful pictures you sent me came nowhere near doing justice to the vision I see before me. I am singularly blessed that you chose me as your partner.’

She heard him getting closer as he spoke, his shoes and chinos appeared in her vision.

‘Raise your head and kiss me.’

She obeyed joyously, seeing him drop to one knee before her, quickly noticing his broad chest, wide shoulders, and lovely beard. An impression of brown sensitive eyes were all she had time for before his lips were softly brushing against hers, slowly inviting, pressing gently. He smelt of spice and dark sex, his taste was rich and full. Slowly, their mouths opened to each other, tongues met, embraced, chased, slowly, then with more purpose. She felt herself melting at this kiss, becoming a flowing, pulsing entity as he stirred her with his presence and touch. Only half-aware it was happening, her lips were becoming firmer and he matched her, not trying to dominate, just seeing what she liked it seemed. After what felt like a delicious age, she felt the pressure lessen along with the pace, and he moved to kiss her eyelids. Never before had she felt so full of energy but almost weak enough to faint.

‘Such beautiful eyes. I look forward to seeing them in many different moods, but for now I must forego that pleasure and ask you to look downwards again.’

This time her compliance met an inward reluctance but this did not slow her actions. He moved up and back towards the bed. That was the bag opening she thought, a little rummaging, and he is returning, going round behind her.

‘You desire restraint but your experience has been limited, let’s introduce you to cuffs. Stand for me Grace, and put your hands behind your back.’

She felt his strong hands guide her wrists into leather, and support her arms as the straps were tightened. Then she felt movement and heard metal click. He backed away a little and stayed still. Her hands were fastened together, cuffs on her wrists, and the sensation was so much greater than could be explained by the leather. She was bound, bound by him, bound to him.

‘Beautiful. Just so sexy and tempting, that arse really does cry out for the full treatment. Kneel again for me Grace.’

The silence grew as she achieved the required posture, it endured.

‘Remember you told me how this proposal of mine turned you on? That you would wait and wait as I watched? And that as you waited you would be more and more turned on? Let us test this remark of yours.’

Silence reigned again, as he moved to a position over to her left, out of vision as he sat in the chair she knew was there. She waited.

And it was as she had said.

She could still feel him there, the strength of his regard, and she believed his words that he found her beautiful, that he wanted her. He had always said this, but there was no faking that kiss. It had left her breathless. Her yearning for him was an aching fire, threatening to swamp her pussy and turn her legs to jelly… and he had hardly touched her yet.

She so wanted him, it had been building ever since she first read more than one story at a sitting. She did not care what he did, for she knew instinctively that she would love each and every nuance, every twist and turn, every demand, every offer. So she knelt still, offering herself completely. And waited as her passion took her over, but still she held.

His wonderful strong voice softly penetrated her erotic haze.

‘Grace, I am so proud of you. I can see just how turned on you are. Just waiting for me, you can make into the most wonderful pleasure for yourself. This is a great talent. One to be celebrated and nurtured.

Let us take you fully into the world of restraint, as you desire, and let me give you a little surprise before I begin to spank you. Would you like that?’

‘Oh yes,’ oh God yes she thought.

So saying he came to her, held her wrists and her arm as she stood, helping her to overcome her unsteadiness.

‘First let me disconnect these,’ he separated the cuffs from each other, allowing her hands to come to her sides. ‘Come and kneel on the bed, here. With your feet still near the bottom of the bed here, and your hands spread on the covers before you.’

She saw the other cuffs near the foot of the bed, and divined their destination. She noticed the restraints near them, and the longer straps coming from the edges of the headboard. With her pussy already so wet it seemed incomprehensible that this was exciting her further, but there was no denying it. Just like she knew there would be no denying him. Absolutely anything he asked she would give, she knew this. And still he had hardly touched her.

As she mounted the bed she almost came when she brushed one of the cuffs. Fuck. What was going on. Her labia were so distended and her pussy so wet, it felt heavy.

‘That’s good.’

And the simple praise sent such thrills coursing through her. She felt him attach a cuff to each ankle, stroking her skin softly as he applied them. His touch was delicious agony.

‘A little wider.’ She spread her knees apart and her feet, and then she could feel him attaching the cuffs to the straps. ‘Now for your wrists again.’

He took a pillow and placed it on the bed before her face, about level with her chin, as she pushed her hands forward so she sloped down from her hips. In this position he connected these cuffs and tightened the straps. At the moment she could now rock her hips forward if she needed, but could do little else.

Suddenly he grabbed her hair and roughly pulled her head up and tilted it sideways, the shock and lust filled her eyes.

‘So beautiful,’ he stroked a finger oh so gently along her jaw and over her cheekbone, so different from the lovely pain in her scalp. ‘That pussy looks oh so hungry, and so swollen and wet. Let us see if we can make it more so.’

He disappeared for a moment and the she felt something over her pussy, from mound down to below her cunt, cupping it and smeared in lube. She heard a noise and pressure pulled her pussy into the device. This must be a pussy pump.

‘Tell me when it begins to get uncomfortable, I believe this is the first time you have tried a pussy pump.’

Another noise and the suction began to be difficult to endure.

‘A bit too much,’ she gasped, causing him to reduce the pressure a little.

‘Better?’

‘Yes. Much.’

‘Now we shall leave it to do its work for a while, as I get out the instruments I have chosen for your instruction and show them to you.’

He pulled his bag onto the side of the bed and reached within.

‘Now. Have you decided on your safe word?’

‘Yes. Dante.’

‘Ah you decided to stick with that. Sounds good. Easy to remember easy to say, easy to hear. And a vision of heaven. How apt in your case’

She had to smile, he was always doing this, showering her with compliments.  It took a little while for her to realise he really did mean them.

The first spanking paddle appeared, pink satin on one side, leather on the other. He turned it slowly in his capable hands, displaying it for her before placing it on the bed. Next was a handle and a shaft, with a top – a two-part crop, the head was leather and thin, adequately long – it would be wicked. A small rubber flogger was flicked gently before her, and then placed down.  Another paddle, this one thick leather with studs, was set next to its fellow. She gasped when the heavy whip/flogger was taken from the bag. A big thick handle, substantial tails of leather, many of them, maybe 2 feet long, now draped over the covers. Others followed, a tiny box, maybe lipstick sized, that made her curious, another crop, heavy, leather tipped again, a real equestrian piece by the look of it, a simple 12” wooden ruler. Lastly, he moved away, and returned with a cane that he swished vigorously before dropping onto the bed.

The accumulation of possibilities was wonderful, her imagination played with the different sensations each could provide in the hands of this man who seemed to know them all, as he knew her, despite their circumstances. She knew this was why the display had been made, in silence. He believed that at crucial times, her body would know what she craved and cry out for it, once she knew what was possible and how she had reached her current level of fused pleasure and pain. Until then, he would be her guide, as he had been by message and email, and phone. She knew he would bring her pleasure even more exquisite than the delights of these last days. She desperately wanted this, needed it, as did her pussy, now even more swollen and madly sensitive.

‘How is your pussy feeling Grace my angel? Are you throbbing and hot? And wet as sin?’ He teasingly drew her attention back to her current focus of sensation.

As he released the suction and removed the cup, the surge of blood finding a new equilibrium was amazing, like suction or removing clamps on a nipple, but magnified, and in that even more sensitive area. She moaned before she could stop herself, but then realised that they were not currently playing the game of dominance to the extent that permission must be asked, and him addressed as Master or Sir. He moved to select the small rubber flogger and the satin and leather paddle. She waited.

‘Such a beautiful arse, so tender, such delicious curves.’

The lightest tickles began on her pert cheek, moving to the other, and back, and again, and down over the curves. In her current state she struggled not to ram her pelvis onto an imaginary cock. Soft satin surely now began a light rub, around the curves of her bum, the shapely sides, the tensioned buttocks. The first light blows landed and she shook. Not from the force of any blow, but from the joy. Not just the joy of this sensation, but also the knowledge of how much more was to come, how much she needed. She knew his awareness of her need for much more pain, more extreme heavy blows, but still he started this gently, and she could not credit the depth of her response.

The firmer stroking that followed was squirmingly divine, the tickling flicks of the flogger were light by comparison. Then he started in earnest, even firm blows of satin covered punishment, repeating themselves on her arse. He began on her buttocks, spreading upwards and round the sides as the warmth built in her arse, not yet a competitor to the fire in her pussy, but building. A pause, and now his naked hand smoothed over her arse, kneading her.

‘Ungh!’ Despite herself and her readiness, this blow caught her by surprise – so much harder. She caught her lower lip beneath her teeth as she stifled her voice as a second and third blow landed. And she was almost coming already. Two more blows and the tension throughout her body was unbelievable, the heat of her pussy and arse fired her convulsions. ‘Oooh.’ Thwack! And her pussy and her body shook in the throes of her first blinding orgasm in his presence.’Yeah, fuuuuck’ and moans of gibberish were shaken from her throat. She scarcely noticed he was spanking her still, harder as he knew she wanted. Little cries were coming from her unbidden. And it stopped.

‘Good girl Grace. Such a good slut, coming for me so soon. But you have so much more to give.’

Her blurry vision just saw him pulling the big flogger off the bed. Some part of her knew this might hurt worse, all of her knew she would love it.

Pain Deferred. Pt 3

When he told her he loved the sounds of his partner in ecstasy, she did not really know what to think.  She had no such positive impression of the noises she herself made during those snatched moments of self-pleasure, or all too rarely with a partner; but he seemed sincere, in this as in so many other things. In fact, as she thought back to her Sapphic days, she remembered how hot she had found the sighs and moan from her lover.

He had shown her the way by recording some of his erotica for her. She could do the same.

Thus she found herself, having checked the recording system on her phone, relaxing into one of her favourites amongst his stories. She had selected the tale of FF seduction and pleasure, impulsive, sensual, alluring and detailed in his descriptions of what gave pleasure.  She read this story so often she sometimes felt she did not need to look at the screen, her hands gliding softly over her skin as she savoured the words, the exquisite actions. Her caresses brought forth a sensual contentment, a relaxation that enabled the purest responses, her pussy moistening, as it infallibly did.

They had been messaging about the responsiveness of her nipples and how they had been neglected in their virtual exchanges of late, and he had suggested that she pay particular attention to her breasts as she began her masturbation tonight. The tingles that came so easily fired into greater intensity under her very first strokes of her nipples; as she began to use the harder fiercer stimuli she so often adored, the connection to her clit went electric, and turned on the juices gathering in her pussy. She was moaning gently but consistently, her legs easing softly apart, and her hips lifting a little as she gasped.

She turned to one of their recent exchanges, regarding her suggestions for  possible attire for a meeting, one in which he had been uncharacteristically blunt:

I approve re scandalous clothing. The type that makes me want to throw you over a tree-stump, rip off any knickers you might foolishly wear, and plunge my rigid cock in your dripping cunt right up to my balls. Xxx

Either that or be tied to a chair whilst you perform to turn me on.

               Mmmm I think I will enjoy dressing scandalously if that is the treatment I will get

Then, as now, her mind latched firmly onto the first option. In the sensual present, as she read more words promising an even stinging redness built into her arse, she picked up a new toy, and experimented, imagining his hands creating the patterns on her skin. She was amazed the way the tiny wheel delivered stinging little kisses to her flesh, each spiked-touch causing shivers of pleasurable pain to shoot right through her to her pussy.

Pinwheel

She felt the increase in readiness as she gazed at the results of her efforts, and turned her mind to his strong capable hands trapping her limbs in cuffs and the strapping them so she could only just move. In her mind he moved into her line of sight and pulled the belt from the waist-loops, as he had suggested just that afternoon. She was melting as he folded it and grasped it in his hands, her pussy became drenched as he held the leather for her to kiss. Its smell and texture were exquisite, she almost cried as he removed it. And then, in her imagination, she waited, and the tension built, as on her own sofa, her fingers squelched into her cunt and her other hand turned on the recorder. Fingers embraced her clit as fingertips beckoned at her G-spot, calling forth that almost-desire-to-pee she knew with increasing familiarity. Her moans and gasps were only partly registering to her mind, as she swore and jerked at the first imagined blow. The tension throughout her frame was becoming unendurable, her toes were curling.

As she called desperately for her Master to make her come, her hips writhing, three non-existent blows were sufficient to thrust her hurtling into another mind-bending orgasm, her self eroded in the sensations of flooding, jerking, and pulsing, clenching muscles, in the electric fire sparking through her fibres and scintillating in her vision, as she shook from head to toe. As she relaxed contentedly, limbs draped nervelessly in joyous quiescence, she sent the recording of her ecstasy to her Master; and as she recovered further, she added pictures of her contented exhaustion.

Her Master responded, wishing she were relaxed in his arms:

Fingertips tracing your curves. The places that made you sigh as I kissed them.

The sweet musk of your come in the air.

As the days dragged by until their meet, he discerned a change in her, one she recognised herself once the impetus had been provided. She smiled more easily, she looked more powerful, more confident. Her eyes shone, in the pictures she sent her postures were more emphatic, whether relaxing or whilst poised alertly. She wanted to wear her sexier knickers more often; with the help of the changing weather, skirts and dresses replaced her ubiquitous jeans more and more. He kept telling her how very sexy she was, beautiful even; and she dressed more and more as if she was coming to believe this was true. She had phone numbers handed to her by assistants in shops. She was, he said, beginning to come back into herself as a sexual being, a beacon of enticement and desire. All this with just remote communication.

She had known from early on that she wanted this man to do the things that stirred in the darkest areas of her passionate being. To be spanked harder than any hand would stand, to offer her arse to the paddle, the crop, the flogger, the whip and maybe a cane. Oh God. She thought of the sound of the cane through the air, the glint in his eyes as he flexed it, and that sting she imagined as it landed. She thought of the marks it would leave. She had found pictures of women (and men) carrying these red wounds of desire; she wanted to be marked by him, to carry his brand, not just in her heart, but on her skin. Something she could touch and trace with wondering, wandering fingertips as she remembers just how the blows felt, what pleasures they generated deep within her, and the ties they drove within her flesh securing her to him totally. How incredibly wet and swollen her pussy would become under his spanking, how close to orgasm without other stimulus – or so she was sure it would be, when he did what she so wanted, delivering artistic, intense pain as she shuddered in the restraints.

Yet now, she found herself apparently contemplating a dilemma. The more he talked about caressing her, loving her intelligence, wanting to bring her pleasure, to lick her to orgasm after orgasm, the more she wanted this too. She found herself considering the delights of awakening each other with gentle caresses of hands and mouths and bodies. She imagined the prolonged kissing and licking and stroking he had described as he showed the pleasurable possibilities of so very much of her skin. In her mind she felt his lips and beard against her neck and throat, the gentle sucking on her nipples that she loved from others and would make her moan from him. In fact, just contemplating the long slow, sensual erotic possibilities, she was moaning and gasping. Could she have this too? It seemed she must.

Lo. He was offering exactly that. Lover and master, with no restrictions, no insistence on just one approach to their dynamic. All possibilities open and all intensely delightful, in such very different ways. When they met, they would need time, lots of it, and many meetings, as frequently as they could manage.  The prospect was making her very wet indeed; and still, he had not touched her.

Thus it was during the long, sweet, agonising wait, and thus it was right now, but, in just over 5 minutes, he would touch her.

 

tbc.

Pain Deferred. Pt 2

As we move into the next section it is perhaps worth mentioning something about the inspiration for this story. The lady concerned had just such instant and wonderfully intense responses to events as are described, but in her case her delicious agony before the meeting would be somewhat longer. Instead of the 14 days it was more like 70.

Yes, 70 days to undergo just this state of combined desperation and fulfilment. It seemed unrealistic to attempt to portray this within my story, but I thought it worthwhile mentioning why she must, necessarily, have this story particularly dedicated to her. For her amazing sexual desire, commitment, stamina, and an unbelievable ability to remain sane in trying circumstances.

My Angel.

– – –

When her phone rang she was amazed, only a hint of nervousness before she picked it up. His strong dark voice spoke softly but with enthusiasm. She could not remember much of that first conversation as they drifted and spiralled and laughed. They seemed to tacitly agree that this was bonding rather than an exercise in flirtation or remote eroticism, though they did not entirely forego the pleasures of the former.  He did tell her again just how wonderful and sexy she was, and how much he looked forward to them being alone together. Her imagination quickly translated this to the moments when just hour or minutes must elapse before he stood before her and repeated his adoration and demonstrated her attractiveness in the most wonderful ways.

From when she first heard him she imagined his voice telling her the lovely things he wrote, or that her fantasies had him saying. It made the waiting so much worse, and so much better again. It seemed impossible for his effect to be greater, but it was. Thinking of him made her squirm damply, brought her hurtling into orgasms when lengthy summoning should have been needed.  She wanted him desperately, all of him, everything he did, all that he would do, to and for her. She drew symbols of dedication on her arse for him, and sent him proof. She told him of the unbelievable effects he was having. She sent more proof. He loved her sounds, whether from mouth or from her natural lubricant, or the gushes of her ejaculate. She wore her sexiest knickers, and told him, or was told to by him.

Oh, that day… He had requested her to select a pair that she would enjoy wearing, both now and when they were together. Her choice was crotch-less, her secret covered by tight jeans hugging her beautiful legs and arse. As she moved through the day in company, the seams and the cloth rubbed enticingly, and her fever grew. She got more aroused, nipples and pussy aflame. As she stood in the supermarket she messaged him, confessed her lust. She would have him take her right now in front of everyone, she was so fucking horny. He loved it, and she loved that he did.

He sent her promises of delights when they met, his private imaginings that filled his erotic creations with thoughts of her. She sent him hers, full of longing and intense desire, but granting him complete ownership, to act at his pleasure, and at his leisure, for she knew this would bring her bliss. He sent a picture of leather restraints, cuffs for wrists and ankles, and the symbolic collar. She knew these were for her, for some of the pleasures she craved, like those short dresses he had admired, which made her feel so hot, and would give access to the wetness his regard and his touch would create.

20140424_121036

 

They found a date, she found a place, he agreed, she booked – it was set. Their first tryst. She knew there was so much she wanted to experience, so much he wanted to show her, that they would need many more, but the first would be special she knew. She did not doubt him. It never occurred to her to do so, because her trust had come to be total, and the knowledge of what he did to her mind meant that the reality would be still more intense. She worried she would come at his first slightest touch.

 

tbc.

Pain Deferred

This story, as it is appearing on a blog anyway, is going to be presented in parts. I hope you will enjoy it, by instalments, and as a whole.

 

Pain Deferred

 

Blank's little slut

 

The two weeks had passed in an erotic blur, friends had noticed a wild look in her eyes, little realising her pupils were almost permanently dilated with unbridled lust. And he still had not touched her.

She had never seen him, this cruel provider of intense pleasure. She could be coasting back down towards sanity when she would see a message from him, and her pulse would race. She always had to read it now, no matter the cost or potential embarrassment, she could not wait. Even if it was something trivial she would be in a heightened state. The moment she realised it was something sexual she would feel her pussy beginning to heat, and if he had decided to be descriptive or go into detail she would rapidly become sodden. The whole fucking fortnight had been like this.

There was ‘bare arse’ day, when she had to endure her jeans rubbing over her bare arse. That was the day they had decided the state of her pussy was ‘sodden’, the day he had told her to imagine that contact as a paddle in his hand rubbed against her preparatory to spanking her, and she so wanted to be spanked by this man. She wanted to give herself totally to him, for pleasure and for pain, and the delightful mingling of the two she most craved, but only from him, this name on a screen, a voice on a recording. She had come like an absolute steam train when she finally got the opportunity later that day.

Her orgasms had seemed to be getting stronger ever since she had first noticed this guy’s fiction online, and the change strengthened once she started to actually interact with him. He was so kind, polite but gently flirtatious, until she had effectively indicated that flirting was fine with her, more than fine in fact. She was still not clear exactly how they had established the effect his writing, and thus he, had upon her, nor how that had developed into the revelation that she wanted him, physically, with everything that she was, but as that was probably impossible, then virtually.

The bastard. Expecting to get a polite rebuff somewhere along the line, she discovered he was deadly serious in wanting her equally as much. So here they were, her driven to distraction by his erotic suggestions and demands, actually by his presence in her virtual life, and him on his way to her, in this decidedly un-seedy hotel. Oh God, he was actually going to be here. In about half an hour. Their first physical interaction. There was no escaping the degree of nerves she was suffering, despite his assurances that the pictures and the communication told him he thought she was wonderful and incredibly sexy. Those old doubts are so hard to shift.

She distracted herself from her worries again by the same tactic, returning to the 2nd day of this 14-day sexual flood-tide. Oh yes, that orgasm. Such heat burning through her, electricity arching her back and erupting from her rigid nipples, tingling from toes to head, lost in the surge. Such a crashing wave of release, such a pulsing in her pussy, as she came thinking of him fucking her, thinking of coming just for him, the drab reality entirely absent from her experience.

As she inserted the Ben Wa balls that day she remembered the joke they had shared, that he was transforming himself (or some part of him) into the pleasure giving toy deep in her cunt. As she worked those muscles, as the weights moved, she was to think of squeezing his cock as she rode him. This was the first day her preoccupied wild eyes had been noticed, and at almost the same moment she received another message. Open your legs, let people passing see your beautiful panties as they covered your crotch. And she did. Without question. And she loved it.

Loving the photos she had already sent he requested another. The nape of her neck offered to him, her hair held aside – because he knew she loved her neck being kissed and that she liked to kiss the necks of her female lovers – and because he already loved to do this and would revel in bringing her this pleasure.

This was the reason she had become so hooked, just by his writing, you could tell he loved women, dedicated himself to giving them pleasure, willing to be so soft and tender and gentle, but also to be rough, to control with temperament and pain, because all that mattered was their enjoyment, which is what gave him his. The way he wrote about their bodies, their sensations, the tiny details, the recognition of clues, their responses and ecstasy – surely, she had thought, much of this was close to real experience. Some pieces seemed written for specific lovers, celebrating all that was unique to them and their lovemaking.

Some tasks he set her he called ‘easy’, selecting a location for a tryst, because they both wanted this; choosing clothing sexier than she could normally wear, to wear with him, for him, and, he explained, very much for herself. ‘Be free, be daring,’ he urged her, ‘let your sexuality surge free, luxuriate in it, and the power it gives you, I will love it.’ Always he insisted, enjoy your tasks, remember they express our mutual need, our desire, and they help to make our pleasure a tactile reality, and make that reality magical.  As choices were advanced he complimented her, told her how sexy she would look, recounted plans and temptations that came to mind, prompted by what he saw, and other things…

She would not let him buy for her though, a line was drawn, one he seemed reluctant to accept, but did, with praise for her principles, even if he felt them misguided. She knew she would not deny him the chance to see some of these possibilities they had shared, knew she would dress for him in something he had inspired her to wear, and undress for him too.

As she worked, and played, and did those endless but essential chores that daily life demands of us, she found her thoughts locked upon him. He did not need to contact her to have her wet for him, but contact her he did. He loved to tease. Once, she told him that there were no opportunities for relief. He was relentless, loving descriptions of her pussy, of gently sucking her labia, stroking her breasts. Telling her how hard he was from thinking about her, how much he wanted to fuck her, that he knew she burned to fuck him.

Burning, that is what she endured, her pussy aflame and aching, and he made it worse. In words and in her mind he bound her, in leather, in silk, made her submit, made her wait, granted pleasure through pain when he was ready, when she was beyond desperate, as she came to be that day. He told her he could see her biting her lower lip, and she was. How? How could this happen? ‘Climbing the walls’ for once felt truly apt, she was crazy with desire, with need. Still he continued and she could never look away, never ignore this vicious need for pleasure, for torment. Many hours later, fresh from the briefest of exchanges, the orgasm was still stronger once again. She could not believe this, but could not deny its truth.

tbc.

Poem: Loveliness

 

Loveliness

 

An enticing name drew me.

Lured by witty intention, I read;

Intelligence bursting with exuberance,

Leapt from screen to engage my thoughts.

Wise words, frank sexuality,

An avatar of her avocation.

Two images are in my memories forever,

Tight dress and impact device,

Blond hair flowing in nature’s setting;

Reclining, temptingly be-hatted,

Brightness radiant from even darkened screen,

Confident, savvy, seductive.

 

Sadistic specialities excite and compel,

Thuds against skin and flesh,

Tight bonds physical and mental,

Bite into the psyche like sharpened fangs,

Her imprint enduring and loved.

A torturer’s imagination with a carer’s imperative,

Divine callousness so very much sought,

That is never callous.

Committed to committing others,

When proven worthy,

Of  ‘hitty wacky’ delights,

Or mental strictures.

The loveliest of Liliths:

Lovely Ness.

 

Written, of course, for The Lady Ness: @TheLadyNess,

The Ruth Saga – Part 2

As I followed you slowly up the stairs, your hand resting gently in mine, I marvelled again at your figure. The curves and hollows of your shoulders and back, now filmed in sweat, the luscious firmness of your arse, those beautiful cheeks as enticing as ever. Your legs, not as long as you might have liked, but so shapely, so powerfully controlling when required.  Your skin was that of someone half your age, cream satin, burnished now with the remains of your passionate blush. Your glowing dark brown hair, all life and subtle tints, was sticking at its tips to your neck and shoulders. Your arsehole, a little jelly around it, winked as your hips rocked, and there, on your inner thigh, just a glimpse of a thicker fluid, whose source I well knew.

We turned the corner at the top of the stairs and you led me into the bedroom, and I paused.  There was nothing unusual about the bed itself… crisp, cool cotton sheets, soft plumped pillows.  But there were the scarves… All plum silk: 2 long ones attached at the bottom corners, one in the middle at the top, and two more hanging loose over the rails at the head of the bed. On the bedside tables were a selection of items, a feather, a vibrator, a couple of dildos, some straps, a paddle, a riding crop, a mouth gag.

‘After we’ve recovered our breath, I’m going to tie you up,’ you smiled sweetly, ‘make you helpless and tease you, tease you until you are desperate to come… but I will make you wait, wait so, so, long.’ ‘Fuck, yes!’ I managed, you had done this before and it had been mind-blowing. You kissed me softly, tenderly, a sweet, sweet angel, but a dark one nonetheless. Your lips and tongue were so soft, so yielding. You pulled me gently down with you, to lie by your side. Your hand rested on my jaw, your fingers moved to stroke my beard as you gazed into my eyes. Your lips advanced again, opened a touch, and delicately kissed my eyelids, then softly grasped my lower lip before leaving me full of tender emotion. ‘Fucking you is my life,’ you told me, ‘I’m only whole when we pleasure each other. I love to feel you in me. I love to come for you. You turn me on so much…’

I interrupt you with my finger gently placed on your lips.  ‘You are my dark muse,’ I replied, ‘you drive me to ecstasy when I’m with you and tears of frustration when we are apart. You turn me on with your smile, your voice, your words. Every time I see you I want to fuck you, I want to feel your legs around my waist, over my shoulders, your arse being pounded by my hips. I want your warm wet mouth and hands to own my cock. Now we’re lovers I can’t imagine how I existed without you.’ Another kiss acts as if to seal our compact… and we lay, gazing at each other contentedly silent, our hands gently following the lines of each other’s torso.

At length you prop yourself up on one elbow, gently push me over onto my back and bring a leg over to rest on mine. Your head hovers above mine, your hair cascading down like a parted veil, your lips descend with more urgency, and my tongue is sweetly tested and pursued.  Your hand slides slowly down my lower chest and belly until you fingertips rest on, and then gently stroke, my cock… which stirs and stiffens. I hear the sound of pleasure deep in your throat, and your hand continues its teasing as you move to nuzzle my neck. You reach above me and take one of the loose scarves, your hands grasp my wrists and you gently lift up my arms above my head as your mouth moves to kiss, and lick and suck at my armpit.  My arms are flat along the bed, above my head, wrists side by side.  Your throw your leg over my waist to straddle me, shuffling up a little to present your wonderful pendulous breasts to my eager mouth. I suck easily at your firm extended nipples as you loop the scarf around each wrist and bind them together.  ‘Mmmmmm’ I hear again as you pause before sitting back.

Your leg returns to the other side of my body as you kneel and start to kiss one of my nipples. A hand is running up my inner thigh as you lick my tiny hard bud… and then your mouth is descending, over my chest, your tongue spiralling and curling through my hairs, down my chest, onto my belly, and beyond. Your hand is firmly holding my balls by now, and you kiss the tip of my now fully erect member. ‘Baby, you could wake the dead,’ I enthuse.

You roll off and walk round to the bottom of the bed. ‘OK babe, Spread ‘em.’ My mind flicked back to my earlier tease; revenge was indeed being served cold, and it no doubt tasted excellent to you.  Once again, I was surprised by just how adept you were at securing the knots and I wondered if there were darker areas in your past than you had so far revealed. My legs were widely spread and securely bound. You gazed in appreciation at your handiwork before coming up the side of the bed again to loop the top scarf around the one binding my wrists.  ‘Shuffle that adorable butt up this way Babe… as far as you can.’ In tying this next knot you managed to get some stretch into my arms that meant I needed a little writhing to settle and get comfortable. (Well, as comfortable as possible).

You climbed onto the bed, on hands and knees. ‘Now my little prisoner, what shall we do with you?’  I felt your mouth shower intermittent kisses on my belly, one hand gently hefted my balls whilst the other flicked at my nipples with your finger-tips. It seemed to last an age.  Your mouth moved down onto my pelvis, the hand previously tormenting my nipples was now, oh-so-lightly stroking the hairs on my belly. Your hair brushed against my straining cock, causing me to jerk as you kissed around it, not touching. Slowly and deliberately you turned to my thighs, licking and stroking. One (just one!) sucking kiss on my balls and back to my thighs, I was starting to groan and toss by now. ‘I love your thighs’ you said, your lower timbre vibrating sexily. ‘Your skin is so soft, but your muscles so strong and well defined,’ as you ran your hands along them. Another ball sucked briefly in, tongued and released.

You knelt upright, turned away, got off the bed and then waved the feather in front of my face.  ‘Now you’ll find out just what this can do.’ You walked round to the bottom of the bed, leaned forwards and began to exquisitely torture my legs, the feather running slowly and softly up my calves. You climbed on the bed to continue the painful pleasure up my thighs. ‘Shit, Fuck!’ I was shouting. You found the way I was squirming amazingly hot, your juices were dripping down onto the sheet. Oh God, no! The feather traced the line between my balls and up the underside of my cock. It throbbed and jerked, pre-come oozing from the tip. You extended a finger and very gently smeared the fluid over my crown, looked at me to check I was watching, and sucked the finger delicately clean, smiling.  I’d almost swear I heard you purr.

Your mouth descended to my swollen testicles, lifted by the plate of your hand.  You feasted on my sweetbreads. Fuck, you were good, I was licked, kissed, sucked, moulded, I was yours to do with as you pleased. ‘Oh!’ you exclaimed, ‘ my pussy seems all wet. Will daddy clean his little girl’s pussy?’ you clambered up the bed straddled my arms and thrust your juicy cunt into my willing mouth, almost before I had finished my incoherent assent. You were soaking, your lips were swollen, your clit huge.  You felt my tongue eagerly lapping and my mouth sucking up your sweet juices, your lubricant and your come. You started to grind your hips into me, fucking my mouth with your cunt. You felt that familiar fire again and you rammed into my mouth as the molten sensation pulsed through your pussy. ‘Uh, yeah, that’s it baby. Again.’ You eased off the pressure so that my tongue could drink yet more, and flick up to your electrified clit.  You knew how much I got turned on by you coming… although it was certainly pleasure for you, it was also a stimulating tease for me. My tongue was starting to feel sore and tired by the time you grabbed my head and forced my mouth hard against your pussy for your next soaring orgasm. Your hips gyrated and your head threw back in a soundless scream, mouth wide.

A little rest, then ‘Oh Babe, are you still thirsty?’ as you lifted that divine arse, positioned your pussy in front of my eyes and opened your lips. Fingertips on the edge, holding you open, I could see your muscles contract and dilate, forcing liquid to run between your muscled walls. Your middle finger slipped inside about 2-3 inches. The fingertips of your other hand held your lips wide for me.  You were moving your finger only just a little, the noises you were making were driving me mad, and mine were music to your ears.  Suddenly, your hips dropped, your cunt was above my mouth, and a stream of fluid jetted out over my mouth, nose and beard, soaking me in aromatic sex juice. Your groan could have woken folks a town away by the sound of it.  You moved rapidly and bent to lick juices from my beard and face, before kissing me open-mouthed and slow, parting with a duelling of tongues.  My mind was in turmoil, I almost felt like I had come myself. As I came to my senses it was to find you teasing my nipples with that damned feather.

– –

Even now, I find it almost impossible to describe that unique blend of pain and ecstasy, of irritant and stimulus, I have never found anything similar enough for analogy. Before long, more pre-come was oozing from my slit, and this time it was mopped up by the lightest, teasing and damnable contact from your tongue.  You savoured both the taste and my anguish as you licked your lips and smiled down on me… And then you reached for the riding crop. You teased me first, running the ridged spiral whipping that covered its full length slowly and lightly between your juicy cunt lips. You turned sideways on, poked out your pert bottom and lightly tapped your cheeks. ‘Wouldn’t you love to do that?’ you asked. ‘Oh Yes!’ was my expected reply. ‘Maybe later’ you answered, ‘but now…’ and you reached forward and very lightly tapped the crop against my stiff cock, then again, and again a  little harder.  ‘Ah, we don’t want you sore’ you commiserated as you bent forward to administer a few moist licks, before repeating the blows. At each impact my cock was jerking from far more than just the force of the contact and you knew it. ‘Mmmm. Very satisfactory,’ you mused and started to straddle my hips. Your clit came down resting on the underside of my cock. OMG! Not again!

Oh yes! You leaned forwards, weight on the outside of your hands as your thumbs pushed the crop across and into my mouth like a bridle, as you rode up and down the length of my cock, rubbing your clit along it. ‘Oh yeah babe. That’s it!’ you encouraged me. ‘Make me come Baby!’ Your rhythm stayed slow and steady, despite the fire-spiders crawling through your belly. The twitches of your eager pussy. You gazed hard into my eyes. ‘You’re gagging for it aren’t you? You filthy, dirty, bastard.  Don’t you dare come until I say so! Until I’ve had my fill of you.’ You looked positively dangerous, almost scary mad. You rode the length of my cock with your clit, your mouth slightly apart, eyes half-closed. Then you convulsed, your hips rammed my cock into my pelvis and the riding crop sailed across the room as you buried your face in my neck, saying ‘God, I love fucking you, I want to fuck you and never stop.’

By this stage I was starting to get a little desperate. ‘So fuck me then,’ I tried.  ‘Not yet lover,’ you replied, ‘I am nowhere near done with you.’ This time you held a vibrator and the narrow paddle.

– –

You approached me from the side, sucking on the vibrator. You just placed the paddle on the bed for the moment as you lasciviously sucked and licked… the characteristic Mmmms and slurping sounds I so adored were turning me on as much as the look on your face and the glances into my eyes. You switched it on and started to play it over your nipples which responded by standing up still more proudly.  Then you leaned over, spat on my straining cock, and applied the vibrator to the area covered by the trickling fluid.  Down you went. Along the underside, round the sides, along the length. I wasn’t used to this and it was so intense, with you luxuriating in the control, me bound, and all the sex leading up to this. Your mouth hovered over the tip of my cock, dewed again, and you dribbled more saliva onto my hot crown. You brought up the vibrator and I almost hit the roof.  Seeing my reaction it was just a touch and away, pause… and then again.  ‘Ffuuuuuuuucckkk!’ almost a shout this time. You kept this up, stimulate and rest, stimulate and rest… and I was begging you to let me come.

You stopped. ‘Look at me,’ you commanded. I obeyed as you spread saliva over the tip of the now quiescent vibrator using your lips and tongue. You raised yourself up so I could see more clearly and lowered it down to your swollen lips. In it went, just a couple of inches with you watching your pussy stretch and mould itself around the pseudo-phallus. I knew you love to watch penetration and your pussy envelope flowing around piston-like motions and that is what you started, slow and even. I could see your colour change even before you switched it on. You moaned very softly, but soon withdrew the vibrator before bringing it close to my face. ‘Mmmm, wet enough I think’, you teased. It was covered in saliva, pussy juices and come. You turned below again… and suddenly the vibration is between my balls, angled down between them and round to press up against the very centre back of my ball-sack.  Your tongue began to lick the helpless objects mercilessly, you sucked them hard into your mouth tonguing me furiously.  My swearing was almost constant, my hips were rocking as far as I could manage.

Suddenly it stopped, what an exquisite relief… Thwack! ‘Aargh! Shit,’ and again, Thwack!, more cries of pain from me. But mingled in the pain of each (thankfully light) blow was an amazing erotic charge. Now you mingled it with the vibrator on my prick, and soon I was hollering that I was going to come. ‘You’d better not!’ you warned, ’I want your come inside me.’ You left pauses between each touch of the vibrator, and then the occasional surprise lick of your tongue. I was beginning to beg. ‘Ah, poor little fucker… struggling to hold on are you?’ Your tone held a nasty edge, ‘maybe those balls of yours need more of a lesson…’ 3 sharp blows to my tender testicles brought a volley of profanity… and then you were licking softly and gently over my sack. The tips of your finger and thumb lightly gripped my cock and slowly moved up and down. ‘Close your eyes’ you said tenderly.

I felt you get off the bed and move away. I heard what sounded like clinking, and then you returning. Now your hand gripped my prick firmly, and then there were cold lips on my crown and the burning ice of your mouth descended over my engorged cock to my agonised moan. You fucked me with your freezing mouth.  ‘God… yes… Oh Ruth… shit!’  You stopped, spat, ‘open your eyes now babe. I want you to watch me whilst I take your come.’ Suddenly, you were astride me, your hand guiding my still cold, erect cock into your pussy. Your powerful muscles felt strangely distant. Then your pelvis ground against mine as the chilled stalk filled your cunt. You fell forward, hands on my shoulders now, face hovering over me. ‘You’re mine babe, body and soul, you can’t escape me’ you told me.  Your hips rode me as your pussy warmed my cock. ‘Fuck me! I want your come, it’s mine.’ And you were right of course, at that moment I felt as if all my spunk from that moment on was your possession, that my cock and I were there only for you to do with as you willed. As your insides liquefied and your nipples seemed ready to erupt it was like a tantric ritual binding me to you. ‘I’m gonna come’ I moaned. ‘Yes baby, I want it, all of it. Your spunk filling me.’ I jerked, thrashed, grimaced and pulsed, and pulsed, and spurted… as you milked me. I hadn’t noticed you come, though you told me later that you had, and it was great. You were moving in slow lazy circles as I finally managed ‘Fuck… that was amazing. I’m yours, totally… forever. I want to fuck you forever.’  ‘Mmmm’ you murmured. ‘You’re mine… and I’m yours lover.’

– –

You rested for a while on me, breathing me in, feeling our mutual heat and sweat. Your breasts were squashed against my hairy chest, you could feel my cock gradually shrinking within you, and all our juices mingling in your cunt. Knowing how hot being pinned down makes you, you decided a little revenge was in order… Your legs locked themselves over and around mine, your hands slid along my arms to hold my wrists, still tied together, and you started to kiss my neck and throat again, to lick me with open laps and hard-tongued flicks, to kiss and bite my neck, shoulders and lips. ‘Mine,’ you breathed before you kissed me again, and you squirmed your breasts against me. Your hips ground against mine as my flaccid cock rested by your entrance… but your continued attentions started it moving and growing again.  You loved that, the way a man can’t help but recognise your sexuality.

You kissed my throat then raised your head above mine, gazing wickedly at me. ‘You said your wife’s away for another 2 weeks didn’t you?’ I nodded. ‘Hmmm,’ you smiled wickedly, ‘in which case…’ Your mouth fastened on the side of my neck and bit and sucked… you were marking me for the duration of her absence.  You knew it was something I loved and you had not been able to take the risk until now. You felt a warmth building inside and knew it was something you loved too. Your nipples were now erect as they rubbed against me and the abrasion was doing wonderful things to both of us.  But you wanted more… So a shift brought those wonderful rose and cream tits up to my mouth. ‘These puppies need your attention’ as you thrust one teat into my mouth.  I responded with hard sucks and flicks of my tongue as you kneaded the outside of those wonderful boobs.

‘Harder!’ you commanded… leading me to gently bite your nipple to open my mouth to press my teeth to your wider flesh, before returning to bite and tongue your nipple again. Your hips were grinding your sodden pussy into my torso as you fed me your other breast. ‘Mmmm’ you luxuriated. My mental image pictured you with eyes closed, at that moment, and I would not have been wrong.

‘Enough’, you suddenly interrupted my attentions and sat up. ‘My turn’, you said as you reached for the vibrator.  You kissed my neck again, looking for my member to stir and swell more, before moving to lick and suck at my armpits. Finally, you descended hungrily on my nipples, one stirred by your tongue and teeth, the other by a circling and flicking finger. Then you switched on the vibrator and played over and around my tiny stiffened nipple, your finger and thumb now gripping the other.  The sensation was so like pain, but with that sexual charge, not quite like physical discipline… but similar in a way. As far as I could, I was squirming. ‘Stop that!’ you demanded, as you continued tormenting me, pausing only ever so briefly to lick both my nipples, before changing over the vibrator and finger and thumb.

Then you stopped, sat back and started playing with your own boobs, relishing their weight, their silken skin, the touch of your fingertips as you traced over them, the response as you flicked your nipples, rocketing straight down to your clit again.  ‘Mmmm… your cock liked that,’ you say as you look back at my now erect member. You lift your left boob up towards your mouth and stretch your tongue out to lick it.  My eyes are riveted on the way you are giving yourself pleasure, and my prick is indeed fully at attention now.  ‘Does he want to play?’ you ask.

You move to one side and look down at my straining cock, and there is a little dewy pre-come there at my slit. ‘Oh, he does,’ you say as your mouth approaches, and with just the softest touch, your tongue cleans the juice from me. The lightest of open-mouthed kisses on my glans follows, before you start to crawl down the bed, and over between my legs. You lower your breasts to my cock, and, without pressing them together, just ease them up and down my length. My cock travelling easily within your cleavage, gravity holding your tits together just enough to exert a light and delicious pressure on my cock.  You play with me, pausing to squeeze your breasts to encircle my cock. Holding my prick at the base to beat it against your nipples. Pausing every now and again to hold my pulsing member in your warm, wet mouth, and suck me to distraction.  Then, my emotions in a complete whirl, you started to kiss my belly and pelvis, administering another love-bite as you go.

‘Time for you to lick pussy babe’ you announce… and you position yourself astride my shoulders facing my groin, and lower your pussy onto my mouth, moving your pussy actively over my face this time. My tongue, mouth and nose are creating delicious reactions in your belly, it feels hollow, flipped over, and the fiery electric tingle is developing nicely. You position yourself advantageously for my tongue and lips, and then lean forward. You do not want me to come yet so your attentions are much more restrained and sporadic than usual. A brief period of licks, then just the feel of your breath, a few strokes and then just the warmth of your hand at rest, the briefest feel of your lips encircling me, travelling down my cock, the lightest of sucks. Meanwhile, I am licking and sucking for all I am worth and you feel the warmth building, the tingles growing. But you don’t want to come like this.

So you stop and get off the bed, remounting at the base to crawl lasciviously up between my legs, licking my balls briefly, likewise my cock. Then you shuffle up, you kneel astride me, your pussy hovering above my stiff cock… and you start to wank, two fingers on your clit, one up inside you, frigging gently.  You groan as a jet of fluid erupts from your pussy, over your fingers and fountains over my cock and pubes.  My eyes are almost starting out of my head as you ejaculate again and again, soaking me, leaving your fingers covered. ‘Fuck! You horny bitch!’ I yell, as my cock twitches furiously. At last you stop, apparently exhausted, smiling.

But I was wrong, it is only a moment or two before you clamber off the bed and head for the table. ‘Now, I’m going to untie you and make you come,’ you announce and you turn, and approach.  You are holding the jelly, the dildo, and some straps.

…and I realise, that isn’t a dildo, it’s a strap-on! Oh fuck!

 

– –

‘Watch me Baby’, you instruct… as if I could look away, as you begin to fasten the strap-on around your hips, taking care to make sure I am fully attentive. Then you stand there gently stroking the fake phallus and playing with your nipple. Uncharacteristically, you are gently biting your lower lip… it looks like this will be special for you as well as a first for me. I’m excited, worried and nervous all at once… and very, very horny!

You are running your fingertips over the knots and ridges and thinking of all the different cocks and dildos you have enjoyed, how they felt in your cunt and your arse, and therefore how they might feel to me.  You could feel still more moisture in your pussy.  It seemed to call to you to hold the shaft more firmly and push it against yourself, feeling the pressure, the rocking sensation it could give. I saw you gasp a little as you played with your cock… this was definitely giving you pleasure.

‘Mmmm’ you murmured as you stopped to approach the bed, ‘you are going to need some serious lubing.’ You paused to untie my ankles, your cock waving a bit from side to side as you moved. The movement was even more pronounced as you clambered on the bed between my legs and picked up the lube. ‘Bring your feet up towards your arse, and lift your bum up for me.’ I did as instructed, my legs relieved to move again. You edged forwards some more, squeezed lube on your fingers, and suddenly leaned forward to reward the tip of my rock-hard erection with a soft lick. Then I felt the cold of the lube on your fingertip pressed against my anus, and you started to rub and smear and push up and slightly in.  Your lips kissed my cock now as a finger worked its way deliciously into me.

You knew I was used to this when you massaged my prostate for even more salty come, but you were so looking forward to stretching me with another finger. Ready for penetration with your much more substantial cock. You paused to get more lube, spotting it at the centre of my hole and then thrusting and pushing it in, periodically teasing my cock with your lips and tongue. The cold sensation of stretching and forced entry, and the hot wet attentions to my cock were like arrows into my pleasure centres. My erection felt like it might burst asunder let alone come. Your fanny was so wet again, your stomach felt hollow, and there were tingles everywhere you might desire.

‘Time to let you go,’ you said, and kissed me ardently and open-mouthed as you moved upwards to untie my wrists. You rapidly rolled off the bed in case I made a grab for you, though in truth I think you had me in too much of a sexual stupor to attempt it. ‘Now babe, come over here and kiss me whilst you lube my cock!’

‘You are fucking perverted, and filthy… and I absolutely adore you!’ I confess, and you smile sweetly, but with that glint in your eyes that can turn my knees to jelly. ‘Uh huh… now do as you’re told’ and you pass me the lube, let me squeeze some onto my fingers and then advance so you can place your hands gently on the side of my neck, your thumbs stroking my neck and earlobes so softly.  I start  to smear lube over your length before wrapping my hand around your prick to stroke up and down and cover it well. You are kissing me softly and tenderly planting kisses on my short beard too, and you are very much enjoying the sensations produced by my stroking your cock, the pressing and release against you. Those fire-spiders are starting to move, you wonder about asking me to massage your breasts and nipples, but your need to penetrate me is stronger. ‘This is going to hurt at first… but you will love it’ you tell me. Before leaving me bereft of your lips and hands.

 

‘Bend over and put your hands on the bed babe.’ I obey, how can I not? You pause for a moment or too, admiring the line of my back, my rounded arse… and you cannot resist running your hands over them, through and over the hairs of my back, following the muscles, the rises and the hollows. Now your cock is pressing gently against my arsehole. ‘Whores should know to spread their legs,’ you admonish me, and I am surprised that I had not done so. My mind starts racing… ‘whore’… what have I let myself in for here? You push my feet a little wider still requiring me to bend my knees a little.  This of course brings me to a better height for you as well as granting easier access and an ability to brace against your thrusts. ‘Relax babe’ you tell me ‘it’ll be easier that way’… and I feel you push your cock against my resistant anus and just the tip enters a tiny way and opens it as you pull my arse-cheeks apart a little with your hands.

Now you reach round and grasp my cock with your hand, the other in the middle of my back. You push your hips into me and my hole is stretching around your cock. You gaze down upon it and almost come yourself. The sight of those muscles, being forcibly stretched, then relaxing and opening more with another moment of pressure. You are far enough in to commence a gentle rocking, in and out and up and down, and to me it feels far too much, it is like my arse is being split. I am letting out little pained gasps, but I know this is nothing compared to what you regularly crave yourself.

Your hand starts to frig me as you gently rock in and out, penetrating a little further each time, then pausing to swirl your cock to different angles, into different areas of my arse. I hear a load groan from you as you climax again. I can feel the jerk from your cock as your body spasms. Your fingers constrict my cock almost painfully and I can feel your hand clawing at my back. You are back to business after only a brief while though… and now it is a long slow press, forcing the phallus deep within me, splitting my arse, stretching me into dilation. Each knot and ridge a separate exquisite agony as it passes and controls my muscles. It feels like you have crammed the universe into my arse, like my entire body is filled with you, ‘is’ you in a sense, the part of me that remains separate now feels just like a covering for the me = you , the ‘us’ that you have generated, dominated by your will.

I can feel you against that familiar point by my pelvis now, as you rock against this. You lay down against me, your breasts squashed against my back, your hand stroking up and down along my cock. Your other hand is up under my chest, clinging on now it feels like. You are rocking against my prostate with greater force, and your hand is giving me no respite.  ’I’m gonna come,’I yell. ‘You’re fucking my arse and making me come,’ and, true to my word, you start to really fuck me, and it hurts like hell, but my kinky side obviously loves it, because, although you reduce your hand-motion to just an occasional flick, it is not long before a huge fountain of creamy come shoots out into the air, and I jerk as each extra portion comes to decorate the tip of my cock and fall off. Rapidly you swivel back and underneath me between my legs and suck and lick on my cock, gently milking me with your hand, the other squeezing and stroking my balls.

I’m groaning in exhaustion… from the sexual high rather than physical workout. You guide me to lie down on the bed and lie beside me, head propped up on an elbow, your other arm draped casually across my chest. ‘Thanks babe,’ you said, ‘always wanted to do that. How was it for you?’ ‘Bloody amazing!’ I reply, ‘ I assume the arse adapts with practice.’ ‘You offering?’ you shoot back, smiling. ‘Let’s see,’ and I kiss you softly and tenderly and stroke your jaw. You catch my hand with yours and kiss it. ‘I think we had better have a shower’ you suggest.

We do, and we soap each other and have slow face-to-face sex as the water streams down us… and we lie on the bed to rest and sleep, you spooned around me for once. Your arms are round my body, I can feel your breath against me, your hips and legs touching mine… it feels like my dark angel has wrapped me in her ebon wings and is taking me to show Morpheus our love.

THE END