Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Til Sated Contentment

You’ve told me before that you’re the kinky one.
I don’t think so. I need it more than you do. Need to be overcome. To be tamed on a daily basis. Need to drop my shell of quiet submission, or to enhance it – variably, of course – and to be your pet.
You know it.
It’s been only days since you’ve spanked me, holding my demons at bay for a little while, but weeks since our last bedroom romp – and further still for something beyond the vanilla.
I’m yearning. Aching. Hungering. Thirsting.
Chafing. Stomping at the bit. Pulling at my proverbial leash.
My concentration has long since been shot. My irritability often barely held in check – I’ve got it under strict orders not to peek out. I’m so close to begging, but that would be…
A tidal wave of more frustration. I couldn’t bear to be sweetly turned away. And – I’m like all women. I don’t like to ask for something that should be so obvious. If I ask, it is somehow less than.
But you know this. You know what your girl needs and beckon me to partake.
The room is dark but sensual. The glow from the candlelight makes me sigh internally with relief – bodies – my body – looks better in their faint and warm glow. Their honeyed scent swirls around me and I inhale deeply. Mmm. It’s the fulfillment of my romantic fantasy. You’ve turned the bed down as well – the covers neatly folded back at the end, with the best pillows gracing the top.  I blush.
You’ve led me by my hands and now you speak. “You may strip. Then – on the bed.  Hands and knees. You’re not to speak, you hear?  You may moan and whine and make all sorts of noises, but no speaking.”
I comply, shaking my head in my understanding. You move behind me. The blindfold is loose, but snug enough, when you finish tying it. Your hands ghost along my body – searching my back, the sides of my breasts, the rounded curve of the stomach I fret over, my ass. You chuckle at my whimpers and purrs, then strike without warning. Aahh – a spanking. I smile slightly before the next smack hits and then you rain them down – six on each side.  I can almost feel the chuckles you hold back at my whimpers.
They were firm, but not too hard, and when you’re finished, you caress my flesh slowly for a moment before ordering me again. “Turn over.”
When I’m in position, you tie my hands to each other. The fabric is smooth and I shiver as one end brushes against my arm as you weave them over and around my wrists. It must be the black scarf. I do love it.
When they’re secure, you brush both hands along my chest, traveling up to my arms until you position them above my head. “Don’t move them,” you warn me.
Then my legs. You push them apart roughly, but your touch is gentle as you tie each one to the rope you’ve strung through the bars of the headboard until I’m well and truly spread for your pleasure.
“Beautiful,” you moan, and I smile.
You kiss me – starting with my lips. Hungry kisses as our tongues meld and explore, but I whimper as your mouth wanders elsewhere. I keen as you lick the shell of my ear, and whisper in it, “I’m going to make you beg, kitten. You are mine. I’m going to kiss every inch of your gorgeous body, and then I’m going to lick your pretty pussy until you hurt to come – and only then will you ask me. Then, when you’re sated and fulfilled, I’m going to do it all over again before I drive my cock home and make you scream.” You tap my nipple idly, rolling it between your fingers. “Who do you belong to, pet?” you ask.  “You may answer.”
“You, Sir,” I whimper breathlessly.
“And I’m not going to let you forget it, my pretty little slut,” you say, and I whimper.
And then that’s what you do. You make your way down my body slowly, carefully, caressing my skin with your fingertips and tracing patterns with your tongue. You roll your tongue around each nipple, biting them and sucking harshly before applying the nipple cups that I both love and loathe. I must make a face; you chuckle and tap me lightly on the nose.
By the time you make your way to my pussy, I’m panting. “Remember,” you warn me harshly. “You don’t come without my permission.”  You haven’t yet given me leave to speak except to beg; I whine my permission.
With my legs spread wide, it’s easy for you to dive straight in, and I let out a short scream as the first lick pulls from bottom to top – just the way I like it. You’re slow and methodical; cupping your hands, under me, you pull up my ass to bring me further to your face.
Those lips. That tongue. I’m wailing and moaning and whining and whimpering as you suck one lip into your mouth, and then the other, and then back to those slow, possessive licks from bottom to top, delving into my pussy and nibbling sweetly at my clit.
It’s too much. It’s too much and I beg, words spilling from lips in a tidal wave. “Please Sir, please let me come. I need – I need to come Sir please let me!”  I shudder and stutter over my words, forcing them out with need but barely coherent.
I can feel your chuckle against my flesh before you finally answer me, nearly muffled by my own body, “Come for me, slut!”
And I do. Deeply and screamingly and with a final heaving sigh and I must look like the cat who got the cream because this time you laugh robustly and pull the suction off my nipples without warning.
“Don’t think I’m done with you so soon, pet,” you remind me, wiping your face on the sheet before attacking my mouth with your own.
I’ve never much liked my own taste, but I love kissing you so much it barely occurs to me and I match your ferocity with my own. Oh yes.
I’m gasping for breath by the time you pull back.
And then, suddenly, you’re gone.
It isn’t long – maybe three minutes, but to me it feels like hours and I whimper. I realize that you must be giving me a time to cool off, only to work me back up, but I don’t like it and just as I’m about to disobey and call out for you, you’re there again, pressing a piece of fruit against my lips.
It’s tasty and juicy and damned if I even remember what it is at this point. “Clean my fingers,” you tell me, and I suck off the remaining juices. I smile when I’m able to make you moan.
Then the onslaught begins again. Your teeth find a nipple and tug at it lightly, your hands wandering down again between my legs as you cautiously feel my slit – still soaking. I smile and know that you’ve been listening when I tell you that I need to be wet enough before anything gets poked inside.
And then you poke me.
One finger, massaging inside me, quickly joined by another and every now and again, a tweak of your thumb against my clit.
You work me over more quickly this time, eager to seek your own pleasure as well and I relish in the feel of your fingers stretching me and your mouth hard against my breasts, my neck, my lips. You’ve brushed your teeth while you were up and the flavor of the mint drives me even more insane – you know I’m gaga over it and I enjoy the strange symmetry of your fingers inside me as I suck your tongue inside my own mouth and moan.
“No noises!” you order me sharply and I pout, but then you tell me that I can come when I’m ready and then your fingers are gone but your cock is
Pushing in to me and all I want to do is moan. I bite my lip between my teeth and hear your chuckle as you move a finger up to undo it.
And then it’s pleasure – sheer, unadulterated pleasure as your cock pounds into me, gently at first and then roughly, and then gently again, and I hear your laughs as you see me trying to be a good girl – trying desperately not to cry out.
A whine escapes me and you smack my breasts roughly, putting the suction back on as pain-pleasure-punishment.
It takes barely minutes and again I’m coming with a straining, soundless cry and you loosen the blindfold. Blinking, I stare into your face and smile at your look of concentration, clenching my inner muscles around you to see the changes reflected on your face.
I love it, and I love you, and I desperately want to speak.
You know it.
You give me permission and the words pour out – “I love you Sir – oh Sir – mmmmm – my Sir – I love you!”
And then you’re coming into me and I feel the hot spurts and you collapse for a moment and I relish in the feel of your warm weight before you roll off of me.
It’s not long until you untie me, and I am boneless, basking in the glow that comes of being controlled, commanded, sated, loved
{Photo found here}