"You don't ever stop do you?"she frowned, looking at him sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee dressed in a cotton shirt and jeans. Her remark was brought on by the way that he played with silk scarf around his neck under the collar of the shirt. He had plucked at it and twirled it into a tight bandana as she entered, letting it fall to the table by his plate with a muffled thump. She felt the force of his action that seemed to indicate a certain level of disapproval. Seeking to alleviate any ill humour, she smiled at him, girlishly, realising that she was really trying to taunt some pompous phrase from him again.
"Well, about time you got up, young lady, even if your dress sense is, as ever, somewhat decadent," he growled. She felt she had won a small victory for his tone of displeasure was certainly tempered by his delight at her scanty clothing. He had quickly observed that she was still only half dressed in a silk blouse and the same underclothes that she had worn in bed the previous night. Apparently, she didn't feel the need to get fully dressed when she was alone with him.
"Gosh, it's really sunny," she remarked distractedly, not really addressing him at all, continuing in a controlled yet sassie way to raise his ire. She walked through the kitchen into the living room. The couch sat in front of the big picture window. She knelt on the cushioned seat, leaned over the back, and gazed out at the spring scene below.
"Just what was the purpose of that inconsequential remark?" he asked, watching her from the kitchen. She shrugged in reply and just leaned over the back of the couch and looked out the window, her blouse crept up revealing her shapely panty-covered behind that he had been admiring from a distance for several months.
"Manners, young lady!" He reprimanded her, his tone moderated by the vision of that glorious behind in front of him. The sight of the brief triangular shape of her panties was too good to be true. Such a shapely backside, willing and appealing -- and not to his better nature.
"Sorry," she turned her head back towards him and pouted, before climbing down from the couch and joining him at the kitchen table. She poured herself a glass of orange juice from the jug and wondered about making small talk with him. She began a little self-consciously and then fell silent, recalling the night before. The recollection made her both awkward and embarrassed. Images of them tangling together clouded her thoughts and dulled her normally sharp tongue. She soon found that her mind had been wandering and she only caught the end of his question and had to ask him to repeat it.
"Are you shy after last night?"
"Just a little.."
"What did you like most?"
Goodness, the questions got personal so soon. There was something persuasive about the mellow sound of his voice that compelled her to answer.
"When you...touched me...as you kissed me."
He smiled knowingly.
"And you liked it, didn't you?"
"I think so."
"You liked the way it felt. You liked the feel of the fingers touching you and the control that was exercised over you"
Unsure if these were questions or statements, she squirmed a little nervously in her chair. She had liked it. She had liked it a lot and hadn't wanted it to stop. It had given rise to a delicious itching between her legs. It was somehow different to before - more exciting, more arousing.
"Come on, tell me about it," he insisted, quietly encouraging her. His eyes connecting with hers, holding her as he seemed to look deep into her. That gaze appeared to reach all the way down to that spot of wondrous pleasure between her legs. It was as much a connection as the way she remembered their lips intermingling, tongues hungrily swirling into each others' mouths.
"Yes, okay, I liked it," she replied exasperated as much at his persistence as her own tongue-tied inability to break his gaze.
"It felt good, didn't it?" he teased. "Do you really deserve to feel good?"
"Yes, Sir!" She exclaimed, sensing that warm glow again in her body and the moist tickling between her thighs.
"Very good," he eventually responded, knowing that her words were merely an expression and no indicator of the respect that she would soon exhibit under his guidance. Still, it gave him the entree that he needed and he took it:
"Very good, indeed."
"Am I.....Sir?" she caught on fast, half in earnest, half teasing, her face hot and flushed. This exchange, generated an undercurrent of wicked thoughts within her mind. Such reciprocation was leaving her quite damp and sticky.
"Quite damp and sticky, pet?" His words echoing her thoughts made her jump. She wondered where his intuition came from and, in her surprise, overlooked the friendly yet at the same time almost arrogant, diminutive. Had she been less flustered, she would have realised that the thickening lips and the faraway look in her eyes was giving her inner feelings and secret excitements away. Retreating from this incursion into her feminine territory, she stood up and walked towards the window again. She leaned forward to feel the warmth of the sun, shining through the window on her face. The warmth exacerbated the residual warmth that she felt from the previous night.
"Would you like me to make you feel that good again?" he murmured softly, yet insistently, after a few seconds of deep silence, no longer in doubt about the answer.
From far away she heard herself answer in a small voice.
"Yes,...."
"Yes, what?" he queried sharply, clicking his tongue in an annoyed fashion.
"Yes, Sir," she replied succinctly, beginning to understand his desire and her own need.
"Come here, then......pet"
She got up and slowly walked around the kitchen table to where he was sitting, stopping in front of him as he sat and turned to the side on his chair. As she stood still in front of him, he put his hand out and lightly caressed the inside of her leg near her knee. He slid his hand up and down. His fingers grazed over the inside of her bare leg, loving the feel her smooth skin. After a moment his hand began to move higher, his finger tips making small circles on her lower thigh, then upper thigh, as his hand finally disappeared beneath the bottom of the trailing edge of the blouse.
She closed her eyes, leant forward further and remembered how she had experienced such wonderfully intense sensations of pleasure. She was lost in a world of sensations when she first felt his trespassing fingers, pressed against her. This invasive presence jolted her out of any residual complacency. He was experienced enough to see the effect he was having on her. He could sense the energy slowly building within her and the sparks of passion striking between them.
"You like it, don't you, girl?" he smiled knowingly. "You like the way it feels."
Please touch me more, Sir," she gasped, squirming in her chair. Her knees began to go weak and shaky. He felt her body tense and quiver as he continued to stroke her gently. For her, the sensations of this relaxed prelude to love making only deepened the enormous pleasure she was already experiencing.
"You like the fingers squeezing you and pulling at your slutty flesh, don't you?" he teased, feeling the inside of her other leg slid along the back of his hand.
"No, Sir," she responded boldly. "Your slutty flesh."
"Yes, my slut, indeed," he agreed. The synergy was such that she didn't dare move a muscle as his fingers glided over the inside of her leg and thigh. So what if it tickled a little at first. The moist feeling between her legs seemed to grow wetter as his hand inched higher and higher under her blouse. She trembled and had to put her hand onto the table to steady herself.
She liked it. She liked it a lot and didn't want it to stop. It was so arousing. Despite her eyes being closed, she seemed to feel his gaze taking her in, leashing her to the desires that he channelled within her with such apparent ease. Those desires were his playthings, possessed, owned and controlled just as she was; controlled all the way down to that wondrous place of pleasure between her legs.
"Yes..I do like it, Sir," she whispered, unable to think of more evolved words to describe the sensations coursing through her. She was constrained by his gaze, suffused by that warm glow again within her body and the moist tickling between her thighs. He looked into a face that glowed with a strange warmth. He knew that she must feel as if she were floating. Strange thoughts span through her, jolting her with the gradual culmination of the effect he was having on her. She had only the vaguest inkling of all that he wanted to do, all that he intended. She wanted those intentions to be fulfilled above all else. She could feel each jolt of his hand, each spasm of his muscles, each nuance in his observant face, pumping through her mind.
He felt the inside of her other leg slid along the back of his hand and he knew she was close. Surrendering to the power of his enticements, she didn't dare move as his fingers glided over the inside of her leg and thigh. Though it tickled a little at first, almost immediately the warm glow between her legs seemed to grow hotter and wetter as his hand inched higher and higher under her clothing. The cotton crotch of her panties rubbed against his finger. Holding his hand up and down, he applied more pressure upwards, the edge of his hand sawing back and forth over her mound. He felt the dampness that had already begun to form as her arousal grew, and he slowly moved his hand between her legs, the side of his first finger pressing up into the cleft of her sex.
"You're wet with excitement already, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice soft and compelling. She could not speak. Her only response was the soft moan that escaped her lips.
"Did you have permission?"
Through a haze of excitation, she eventually managed to shake and then bow her head, acknowledging her apparent fault in a submissive gesture. She liked the power that his words imposed, but she liked far more his actions and her reactions. He looked up at her face and saw that her eyes were closed as his hand never stopped it's slow, firm movement back and forth over her. After another minute of just feeling her, he dropped his hand and sat back.
"Take those panties off, girl," he instructed. She barely hesitated at all. It just seemed the right thing to do. She lifted the hem of her blouse, undoing the lower buttons. Then she grasped the elastic waistband of her bikini panties with her finger tips. Bending at the waist, she rolled her panties down her thighs. She lifted each foot and she slipped them off neatly, before dropping them indiscreetly on the kitchen table.
"Discretion is the better part of submission," he advised, picking up the garment disdainfully between his finger and thumb. He let them hang there before her slightly humiliated gaze. He raised the cotton closer to his face to smell that wonderful honeyed, yet pungent, odour that already coated the crotch of the reluctantly discarded garment. Her mouth hung partly open at this lascivious display.
"You see, pet, you know what to do even before I order it," he said in a self satisfied tone. She opened her mouth to remonstrate and gagged to find her mouth filling with cotton and the taste of her own secretions of the previous night.
"Now, now," he warned, letting his hand slip back up between her tender thighs promising to caress her seeping sex. "Don't disappoint me at this stage, pet."
Trying her best to ignore the panty gag, she looked down and watched his hand moving up towards her sensitive sweet spot. Compliantly, she moved her feet farther apart, wanting him to be able to touch her without any obstacle in his path. Loving his every gesture and her every instinctive response, she gasped with pleasure at the delicious contact that he continued to offer her.
He saw her separate her thighs and turned his hand so he could cup her completely. He smiled to himself. The silky fur that covered her mound, tickled the palm of his hand as he held her there and slipped the tip of his middle finger through her oiliness and up inside her. Slowly, his finger probed up into her. The other fingers pressed up against the rounded fur-covered lips of her delightful sex. While, he slowly plunged in and out of her, he moved his hand back and forth caressing her, feeling the silky, curly hair and smooth skin of the crease of her inner thighs.
She had to put her hand onto the table to steady herself as she moaned softly to herself. Her eyes closed and her concentration was entirely centred between her legs. He slipped another finger up into her snatch. The two fingers held together formed a larger, thicker shaft, and stretched her even more. Her body began to move slightly, her hips squirming and twisting as she rotated herself around his fingers, as they repeatedly plunged up into her. It felt so good..sssoooooo...ggggoooooodddddd...
It was several seconds before she realized that the wonderfully pleasurable sensations had stopped. She opened her eyes to see what he was doing and found her sight constrained by the bandana that had lately decorated the table like an ersatz napkin. In her mind's eye she saw him getting up, picking the silk up and whipping it silently over her, while her eyes were closed, stealing her sight from her in a further exhibition of control.
She tried to envisage his actions from sound alone. A metallic tearing sound and she knew that his hands were pulling at the zipper on the front of his trousers. In slow motion she entertained the thought of that zipper being pulled down, of reaching inside the opening, and........
"He's going to have me......at last," she thought to herself. "At last and I want him to... I want him to put it up into me. I want it..."
"Turn around and bend forward over the table," he instructed and she shuffled forward and obeyed him, biting on the soiled cotton in her mouth, tasting her saliva mixed with the sweat and stale excretions of the night. Lightheaded, almost as if she was in a haze, she obeyed the commanding voice. She felt his hand hold her shoulders and turn her body. When she felt the edge of the kitchen table against the front of her thighs she bent forward and rested her hands on the table top, her arms locked straight in front of her.
"Yes, that's it. Good girl," he smiled, patting her backside lightly as a reward and lifting the bottom of her partially unbuttoned blouse up over her hips. His hands were soon around her waist and the bottom of the shirt lay over them. With the outside edge of his left foot he applied some pressure against the inside of her left ankle and she stepped her foot out farther, opening her legs even wider. She felt like a feast on display to his ravenous appetites. A lamb awaiting the slaughter of her tattered innocence.
He pressed up against her backside, running his length up and down through the deep, narrow crack between the two soft globes of flesh. Looking down, he watched himself sliding back and forth, a drop of moisture seeping from his tip. He moaned quietly at the exquisite sensations of her behind on his sex. And there was more pleasure waiting.
Pulling right down through her cleft a final time to dip lower, he searched for her opening. Keeping one hand on her waist to hold her silk blouse up, he reached down and grasped his thick, hardness, guiding it to its goal. Finally, he felt the warm gliscerine wetness of her puffy lips surrounding the tip. He pressed upwards slightly with his hips. The tight rubbery folds of her sex fully gripped him and he put both of his hands up around her narrow waist again. Holding her still, he thrust up even more, and felt himself begin to slide up into her heated tightness.
He paused for a moment when he heard her gasp, feeling about half of his shaft surrounded by her velvety tightness. He pulled back, letting it slip a little out of her. Slowly back and forth his hips hardly moved at all, as he delved deeper and deeper into her slick and oleaginous grip. Holding her around the waist, he set up a nice, easy rhythm, his strokes sliding in and out of her from behind, the warm, round curves of her backside rubbing up against the front of his trousers each time he shafted into her. Her soft, yielding femininity clutched at his thickness as he pulled away from her.
Oblivious to time passing, she awaited his pressure passively as he held her tightly around the waist. She was completely lost in the sensations between her thighs. Her desire was amplified by the mistral of his hot breath on the back of her neck as he stood close behind her. She heard herself groan, far away in the distance, as wave after wave of pleasure swept up to crash against the nervous centre in her head.
She felt his body against her back, the sweat gathering under her silken clad back. There was a cool breath of air as it was raised and his hands reached round to caress her breasts, pinching the nipples. She bent to his will and bent even further forward in a physical epitome of her pliant submission to his erotic demands. She rested her elbows on the table and, unashamed, offered him her all.
She lay still, her body completely enveloped in sexual pleasure as his shaft filled her and each inward thrust rubbed wonderfully over her. The pressure of his masterful assault seemed more exquisite as each moment passed. The tension grew relentlessly and uncontrollably. She bit down into the cotton and blinked rapidly behind the blindfold as, suddenly, without warning, shocks of pleasure rolled through her body.
He felt her body tense and quiver as he continued to pump into her from behind. He slowed down and took several long, leisurely strokes into her from behind. For her, the sensations of his relaxed love making only deepened her first experience of possession. She wanted to be mastered by the powerful eddies that he had set swirling within her. She could feel each jolt, each spasm, each insinuation with which he captured and leashed her within his domain.
Her heart beat echoed those desires, pumping the message through her mind, repeatedly 'Don't stop' through the fog in her brain - don't ever stop.....
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