Three

June 13th, 2009

My legs are spread, knees bent, feet planted flat on the bed as she knees between them. One hand probes inside, fingers curling upward to caress that sacred spot. She does it well, evoking sensations I didn’t even know existed. I think she may know my body better than I ever will. Her tongue dances across my clit, a touch much lighter than I am accustomed to, much lighter than I would usually want. From any other person, this attention would only be teasing and I would find myself frustrated but she is a pro and the pleasure she gives dwarfs that of pleasure I’ve had in the past. I know now, it’s only the tip of an iceberg.

I restrain myself, with a bit of caution, from grinding against her face. Not knowing what her reaction might be to such demand. I couldn’t if I wanted to, anyway. His body is leaning over mine, his familiar weight and smell and skin gracing my senses. There is little room for my escape, not that I want it.

His tongue joins hers, lavishing my clit. Teeth gently pull at my lip; I’m sucked into a mouth. His, I assume. The touch is rougher than she has been so far. He knows I like strong sensations. For a moment, I wonder if their eyes are meeting, or closed or awkwardly avoiding eachother. I wonder where his hand, the one not supporting himself on the bed, is. I think to myself that it’s probably traveled to her ass and crack a smile. There is a sound, guttural and heavy. I realize it must be me, moaning.

My back arches off the mattress as I push my hips toward their hungry mouths. I am wet. My pussy is wet. My clit is wet. The aromas of arousal and spit mingle, and fill the air. It is not an entirely pleasant smell but I turn my attention away and run my hand across his skin. It’s also so smooth and nearly hairless. I’ve always liked that and my hand glides effortlessly down his chest, his stomach and light to the tip of his cock. He moans in response, his cock long sprung to life and I wrap my finger around his erection. He feels so silky in my hand. I have been constantly bewildered by the erect penis. Soft on the outside, hard within. It boggles my mind yet I love it.

I slowly stroke his shaft, following my hand with my eyes. In my position it’s difficult to look at much else besides his body. Precum has already decided to make an appearance, sliding from the head of his cock and I rub my thumb over the droplet, spreading it over his flesh to leave his cock glistening.

I haven’t forgotten about the mouths on my cunt. Who could? She still works her magic on me, diligently. She still knows exactly what buttons to press. That’s what they say about fucking a member of your own gender, isn’t it? That they know how to opperate the equipment best. He has trailed kisses up and down my thigh, interspersed with licks. His other hand makes its presence known, sliding beneath my ass and squeezing it tightly. He lingers there for a moment before adjusting position so that he is kneeling besides me. His hand moves toward my crack and, before I can respond, he is inside me. I don’t always love anal play. Maybe it’s the situation. Maybe it’s her tongue expertly breaking down my defenses but I don’t mind, not this time. In fact, I nearly cum. Not yet.

I feel her breasts brushing against my thighs as she works. Her nipples are erect, easy to feel against me. I reach for his cock, once more, stroking the shaft as it reaches toward the sky, tinted red from the blood coursing through his veins. Simultaneously, she is stroking me, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. Very close now.

And then it hits, waves of pleasure crashing inside me, muscles spasming and hips bucking and she licks and strokes, he still fucking my ass with his hand. As I cum, I reach for his hand, sucking his fingers into my mouth so I am completely filled. I feel heat wash over my pussy, and I am wetter but not as unbelievably wet like in porn.

She quickly laps as my juices, cleaning up my orgasm. He moves in but she has made quick work of it. Instead he kisses her and there is a twinge of guilt which is quickly overcome by the sheet naughtiness of them sharing the taste of me. I fall back onto the bed, tension suddenly rushing from my body, overcome with weakness.

To be continued..

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Come

April 4th, 2009

“Come.”

With one finger, I slowly motion her forward. She moves, unsure at first but then quickly makes up the time, fearing my wrath. Head low, ass high. My eyes trace the curve of naked flesh along her back. Thin fabric traces the crack of her ass, dividing it into two perfectly round cheeks silhouetted against the dark background behind her. She moves fluidly, sliding one leg in front of the other, stretching one arm out and then the other. She keeps her palms flat against the ground as I request.

In between her movements, I see the roundness of her breasts sway beneath her body. She is beautiful but it is more than that. She moves sensually. She emits sexuality. Is that a drop I see, already forming on her skin? It slips silently to the floor, unnoticed by my slave as she inches nearer. The sight of her nervousness, her fear, he desire sends a shudder down my spine. I suppress shivering but can’t help the blood from rushing between my legs. My clit tingles as it grows hard and I entertain fantasies of her in my mind.

I keep careful eye on her hair, she knows I don’t like when it’s touched the ground. She is careful but there has been a time or two when she has forgotten. Sometimes she is too anxious too approach – or too fearful – and she forgets. It’s times like those when I lash her wrists to the wall and lash her flesh with a flogger. Rarely, do I make her bleed but I have and I will, when it’s necessary. It won’t be necessary now. I can tell she is concentrating.

She reaches the ground in front of me. Cold concrete to remind her that she is the one on the floor, not I. She remains with her head down, her hair floats just above the ground and I reach down to pull it over her one shoulder. I drag a nail over her now bare shoulder and it leaves a welt but I do not break the skin. With her hands placed against the ground, I reach for a shackle built into the leg of my chair. My hair falls around her as I do, tickling her skin but she knows better than to make a sound. Were she allowed to look up, she would see my breasts pushing against my bra as I lean forward. But she is not, does not.

The shackle is around her wrist. I know she can see its origin. They’re a recent addition to my throne and if she is surprised, she makes no sound. I spot the smallest movement form her, however. I grin. She has not grown complacent yet. Good. I lean to my other side, fastening the second cuff around her wrist. Fine dark brown leather, worked with gold filigree. Neither are colours I would normally choose but something about this combination pulled at me. The leather is still stiff and I know it will prove to have an extra bite. I may have been a little slack lately. She deserves no special treatment now.

With both wrists secure, I lean back in chair, slide my hips forward. I’m sure she hears the movement which I follow by lifting one leg over her shoulder. Bending it at the knee, I rest the heel of my boot on her ass. The point sinks into her flesh and I smile. At last she emits a soft sound, barely audible, but I know the heel is biting her flesh. At this distance, I see the thong cutting into her hips. I often gift her items that are too small. The gift reminds her of me and the discomfort reminds her of her place in life, just as the silver collar around her neck does both.

With my leg lifted my pussy is exposed. She has surely been aware of this, the cunt slut that she is. I instruct her curtly.

“Eat, girl.”

Slowly, she raises her body up so that her mouth is level with my cunt. I stifle a gasp as her tongue flits between my lips from between her pouty, red lips. She has such a beautiful mouth, so perfect for her current duty. And she does it well. My heat pounds faster as her tongue travels down my lips and back up, around my clit. But she won’t stay for long. She knows what happens if she teases. That’s my job not sure.

I sink my heel further into her ass as she puts her expert skills to good use. Her mouth surrounds my clit as her tongue darts this way and back. She begins to suck on my clit and it’s all I can do to keep my composure. I love to surprise her when I come, to squirt all over her face unexpectedly. She always makes such faces, so unglorified, so unladylike. She thinks of herself as elegant, classy even, but I love putting her in positions she can’t control, to force those natural reactions that she would eradicate had she the power to change human nature. Of course there’s nothing like seeing your slut, covered in your own cum. It always gives me such satisfaction.

I bite my lip harshly as her tongue probes inside, but not for long. She knows where I like the focus and she returns to my clit, licking from the base to the lip in a slow, unbroken motion. I swear, with just one movement she has made my clit grow. Involuntarily, I’ve begun to grind my hips against her face. So much for opacity. She moans at my reaction and, instinctively, I shoot up, reaching behind her to smack her ass. Hard. And again. Her skin is bright red after only making contact twice. I have hit her harder than I intended but she knows better, now.

“Shut up, slut.”

I think I feel a slight nod as she continues, never breaking her mouth from my pussy despite the spanking. She’s pushing her tongue against my clit roughly now, just how I like it. Rather than returning my heel to her ass, I drape my leg over the arm of the chair, spreading my pussy open for all the see. She moves forward, having more access now. She is not accustomed to not being able to use her hands but you wouldn’t. know the difference.

Her tongue dances talented across my clit, around my lips. She even licks down my mons, following the thin strip of hair I let grow down to my clit once again. This time she works with a fervor, as though her life depends on my orgasm. I let her think it just may. I chuckle to myself.

And then I feel it. Building up deep within, my orgasm builds. I’m not even sure there is an ounce of blood left in any part of my body. My clit so impossibly hard as she works her magic. It’s coming fast, faster than I prepared for. Soon, my orgasm is barreling through my body like a train. Nothing can stop this force. My hips buck involuntarily and I grab the back of her head, tangling my fingers in her hair. My orgasm rolls over my body and I feel the contractions of my cunt, each one separate and strong yet all part of the same. I finally let go as I come, moaning and fucking her face as I push a stream of cum against her face. I feel it dripping down my cunt. Like a good girl, she has never stopped and my pleasure keeps coming.

As my orgasm subsides I pull my hips away. My cum is streaming down her face. Hair has plastered to her skin. She looks entirely ungraceful, now. She looks like my slut. She is my slut. I stand.

“Come,” I direct her. And she does, pulling at the shackles around her wrists. I can hear her moan as her body responds to my demand, even as I walk away.

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Ending the Dry Spell

September 23rd, 2008

It was not nearly a drink of water but a beautiful oasis I encountered after so many days in the desert. It was as if satiating, rejuvenating water flowed down my throat and across my skin, heightening my senses. This was no ordinary oasis, no ordinary experience.

Reluctant at first, I pulled him on top of me, his leg in between mine. A familiar exchange, our bodies rubbed and grinded against each other. His cock was hard against my hip while I rubbed myself against his leg. I felt the return of familiar hormones and feelings. Although I hadn’t wanted it at the beginning, I did then.

His kisses covered my skin, eventually moving south. Ever attentive, he lavishly pleasured me with his mouth and fingers. As heavenly as it felt and although I could feel my orgasm building, it was long and taxing in effort.  He was selfless, as always (or maybe not; he is quick to profess his addiction to performing oral sex on me) and brushed aside my apologies.

His body moved up until his cock slid into me, effortlessly. It felt as though it had been ages since we had last been intimate. Perhaps it hap. There was no discomfort or awkwardness; everything worked together like a well oiled machine (and by that time I was well lubricated by my own arousal and his saliva). His cock felt wonderful and filling in that hard-yet-soft way.

He thrusted, I rocked in return. For whatever reason, his cock felt better than I remembered. Was it simply because it had been so long? Or was it something more?

We continued in our passionate throes, moaning and panting as we did. I was able to lose myself completely in this sexual bliss, one hand snaking below to rub my clitoris and pelvic bone as he thrust in and out of me. But I wanted it deeper, harder knowing all the while that what I wanted would make him orgasm sooner.

But I wanted it and demanded he please me with his cock. I came again for the second or third time and as I commanded him to fuck me harder, to come in me, he moaned in kind. His thrusts came more powerful and I came again, a satisfying and shuddering orgasm as he spilled his hot cum inside of me.

As his semen came rushing into me, a flood of emotions came rushing out and, before I knew it, I was crying. Hot tears ran down my cheeks in a torrent of sudden emotion and I held his body close to mine, physically spent but emotionally charged.

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