Chameleon

by Ashe Barker

  Her pussy pulsated, gripping the ice inside her in a sudden, heated rush. It was melting—fast—the wetness gathering in the now-soaked towel beneath her hips. Fleur did not care. Her body rocked and lurched, her head spinning from the conflicting sensations assaulting her. She was cold, she was hot, she was solid, she was melting, she was full, she was empty. He was fucking her with ice, with his fingers in her arse.

  “Ethan, Sir… Oh, oh!” she cried out, incoherent as the power of speech deserted her. He seemed to know anyway, and firmed up his thrusting in her arse at the same time as he extended his licking to include the ice lodged between her pussy lips. He worked at it, pulling it in and out to match the rhythm of his fingers in her anus as she unraveled under him.

  At last, spent, she lay still and quiet, the ice now completely melted inside her. Ethan slid his fingers from her arse. He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth before standing and walking into the bathroom. Fleur watched him go through half-closed lids, knowing he would return in moments. The sound of running water followed, then he came back, drying his hands on a small towel. He had another larger towel, a bath sheet, over his arm.

  “Lift your bum.”

  She obeyed and he pulled out the wet towels and the pillows, dumping the lot on the floor with the long-ago discarded duvet. He laid the fresh towel on the mattress, and Fleur settled herself on it.

  “I want you to fuck me. Please.” She made her appeal hopefully. He looked satisfied enough with the proceedings so far—he might be taking requests. And by her reckoning, he must be overdue an orgasm or two himself.

  “I think you mean you want me to fuck you, Sir.”

  “Yes, Sir. But I don’t want you to spank me. I’m sorry. I won’t forget again.”

  “Too late. You know our rules. I want you on all fours, now.”

  “Please, I am sorry, truly.”

  “Now, Fleur.”

  Her mind reeling, all Fleur wanted to do was be held tight, preferably with his cock buried deep inside her. She wanted connection, closeness, not discipline. One look into his implacable features, though, and she knew she would get only what he chose to give, and right now he had a score to settle. Reluctant, feeling maybe even slightly resentful, she shifted to position herself for her spanking.

  “Five strokes, I think. But I’m a generous Dom and you’ve pleased me this evening. So you can have an orgasm between each slap. How does that sound to you, little subbie?”

  Fleur almost sobbed with relief. He knew. He cared about her and he knew how she would be feeling right now. He was not about to leave her hanging, disorientated and unhappy. She should have known, should have really known her Dom better than that.

  “It sounds very good, Sir. Thank you.”

  “Ready?”

  “I am, Sir—oh!”

  The first slap landed on her right buttock. He was not pulling his punches today, or if he was holding anything in reserve in recognition of her inexperience, he was considerably less restrained than yesterday. The slap hurt, the pain quickly swept away, though, by the wave of pleasure as he applied a long, slow, open-handed caress to her pussy, from front to back and lingering around her still unresisting arse. He teased her opening, dipping his fingertip inside and running it around the entrance to loosen it further.

  “This is mine. Later, yes?”

  “Yes, Sir.” He would not hurt her. She knew that. She was relaxed with this.

  With his finger still working her arse, he reached around with his other hand to stroke her clit. He intended her to come and fast. He rubbed the swollen nub hard as Fleur sank her face into the mattress, moaning in delight. Her release this time came swiftly, peaking sharply as her senses scrambled. She gyrated her hips, squeezing around his probing finger.

  “Sir, I want you inside me, please. Now, Sir.”

  “Since you ask so nicely. First, though…” The second slap landed on her left buttock. Fleur welcomed it, knowing what would follow

  The sound of foil tearing, and the snap of latex were the confirmation that he was about to grant her request. He moved behind her, and Fleur lifted her hips and spread her thighs as wide as she was able. She could have wept with sheer joy as he entered her, smooth and fast, right to the hilt in one long stroke. He held still for a moment to allow her to stretch around him, to adjust and accept. His cock felt huge and hot as he filled her greedy, welcoming pussy, though she knew that was just because her inner walls were still chilled from the ice. Even so, it was a delightfully tight fit. The temperature soon equalized, and he began moving, thrusting slowly but quickly picking up a rhythm. Fleur stretched her hands out on the mattress in front of her, grasping at the cotton sheet, taking great fistfuls of the fabric and holding on.

  “This is going to be hard. Feel free to scream.” His voice was rich and low, rolling over her as he drove his cock deep. Fleur rather thought she might take him up on his offer and try to explain it to hotel security later, if it came to that.

  Her pussy tightened and gripped him. She thrust her hips back to meet his strokes, increasing the friction she craved. As ever, his aim was accurate, connecting with her G-spot each time he plunged forward. He leaned over her, reaching around and under to lay the pad of his middle finger over her clit, circling and caressing the throbbing nub.

  Within seconds, she hurtled toward another climax, gasping his name and pumping her hips furiously. Ethan matched her rhythm, sinking his finger deep into her arse to fill her completely as she convulsed around him. As her orgasm subsided, he inserted a second finger alongside the first, thrusting and swirling to open her sphincter even wider. He straightened and released her clit. The third slap fell on her unresisting left buttock, and Fleur was not sure she even felt it.

  She did feel his cock withdrawing from her cunt, though, and turned her head in surprise. She was sure that he had not come. She would not have missed that.

  “Now here.” He slid his fingers from her arse and placed the head of his cock at her relaxed rear entrance. He pressed forward. “Open, love. Let me in. Push back toward me when I tell you.”

  Fleur could only nod, increasing her death grip on the sheet between her fingers.

  She felt his cock ease its way into her arse. Inch by inch, he was slow, infinitely gentle, her body extensively prepared and receptive. She could do this. She knew she could. The sphincter was already slackened and as he pressed forward, her entrance opened further to allow him through. She dimly heard his murmured command to press back now, and did as he asked. Fleur groaned, her submission complete as he slid home.

  His cock seated fully inside her arse, Ethan held still again, trailing his fingers in delicate patterns on her shoulders as she quivered in stunned silence. This had been easy, much easier than she had imagined. As everything seemed to be, with Ethan. She would probably never have contemplated any of this with a Dom who was other than a very temporary fixture in her life, but even so, she would miss him when he was gone. She would really miss him.

  “Okay, love?” His tone was gentle, as were his hands, caressing her, soothing, reassuring.

  Fleur nodded.

  “Good. Sit up then, I owe you at least another orgasm. Or was that two?”

  She turned her head, unsure what he might mean. In any case, she had lost count, whether orgasms or slaps.

  He reached for her, his hands under her shoulders as he pulled her upright into a sitting position. “There are lots of excellent reasons for sticking your cock in a sub’s arse, but the best one I can think of is that it gives you access to all of her. So, what do we have here then?”

  He shifted on the bed, turning them both until Fleur found herself facing a mirrored wall. Reflected there, she sat astride Ethan’s thighs, her breasts and stomach a shade or two darker than his tanned skin. His arms lay around her waist, but as she watched in the mirror, he lifted his hands to cup her breasts. Her nipples were still swollen and hardened further as he rolled and tugged at them. His grip was firm, and although she would no
t have described it as gentle, it was exactly right. She threw back her head, resting it against his shoulder. Ethan cupped her chin and turned her face to his. He kissed her, his tongue exploring her mouth, dancing with her tongue. Fleur reached for his face, laid her palm across his cheek then ran her fingers back through his hair.

  He was utterly wonderful, this Dom she had found out in the desert.

  He broke the kiss, smiled at her, and winked. “You are one sexy little peasant, Fleur.”

  “And you are one persuasive Englishman, Sir.”

  “Mmm, you weren’t such a hard sell, once you got the idea in your head.”

  “Are you calling me a slut again, Sir?”

  “Yes, probably. Do you mind?”

  “No, Sir. But you still owe me a climax. Or two. We sluts are particular about these matters.”

  “We Doms are too. I’m so glad we find ourselves on the same page, then. I think it’s time you did some work, though. You have exactly two minutes to bring yourself to orgasm.”

  “I have to do it myself?” She craned her neck to look him in the eye.

  He smiled at her, but his expression was determined. “You do. And you’re wasting time.”

  “But…”

  “Have I been unclear in any way? Or perhaps you’ve changed your mind. Do you not want an orgasm after all?”

  “I do, Sir. Of course I do.”

  “Then why are we still discussing this? You have one minute fifty seconds.”

  Fleur knew by now when he was serious and when he might be joking. He was deadly serious in that moment and she had better make some progress. She reached down with her right hand to slide it between her legs, her target the throbbing clump of nerve endings pulsing there. She drew her fingertips across her clit then took it firmly between them. She thought Ethan might well have squeezed if he were pleasuring her right now, so she did the same. The result was electric. She gasped in wonder that she could create this sensation for herself. Well, not entirely for herself, she acknowledged, but pretty close. She continued to roll her clit firmly between her fingers, tugging lightly, then more firmly as her arousal built. She would not be requiring anything close to two minutes.

  Her orgasm took mere seconds to build and overflow, starting as a soft but insistent tingle low down in her abdomen, building quickly to an overwhelming surge that rushed up to sweep her away. Her body clenched hard, gripping Ethan deep within her, then her muscles went limp. He tightened his arms around her to hold her upright as the current of intense pleasure flowed through her body. Fleur threw her head back against his shoulder, her eyes closed as she savored every crackle and tingle, every soft convulsion until her climax was spent.

  “Nice work, little sub, you did well. I felt that too. Now, though, it’s my turn.”

  He eased her forwards until she was back on all fours, then he withdrew his cock until only the tip remained inside her arse. His thrust forward was hard and deep, but her body was totally ready and accepting. The stroke was long and pleasurable. Fleur moaned her bone-deep approval as she flexed her fingers in the sheet beneath her.

  “Sir, I…” Her words trailed off—she really had nothing to say at that moment.

  “I won’t hurt you. I promise.” Ethan’s voice was low and gentle, his words murmured beside her ear as he withdrew to thrust again

  “I know that. Oh…” Fleur gave up any attempt to communicate, at least not verbally. She would do any further talking with her body. Ethan seemed to be of the same mind because he turned his attention to delivering powerful, deliberate strokes into her arse, each one angled to be smooth, comfortable but filling her totally. Fleur knew he was stretching her, that she was straining to accept, but managing anyway. And the pleasure was beyond imagining, the intimacy total. Her surrender complete.

  Ethan gave a guttural moan, swore softly, and the warm rush of semen filled the condom. He had not made good on his threat to put ice into her anus, but even so the heat of him now was intense and Fleur whimpered despite her delight at the proceedings. Ethan held still, his nose nuzzling the back of her neck as his climax peaked, then subsided. “Are you all right, little sub?”

  “Yes, Sir. I am perfect,” she managed to whisper the reply, wriggling slightly under him.

  “You are, certainly. Do I still owe you a slap or two? Perhaps an orgasm?”

  “I am not sure, Sir. I lost count.”

  “Better safe than sorry.” He slid his cock from her arse and quickly removed the condom. He tied it off and dumped it on the floor on top of the wet towels. Just as Fleur was about to move onto her side, he dropped the final two swats onto her bum in quick succession. She yelped and turned to him, her expression accusing.

  “I was not ready. I thought—”

  “A deal’s a deal, girl. You wouldn’t like me to short-change you, now, would you? I believe that’s just one more orgasm I owe you, then we’re quits. Unless you know better?”

  “I would not dispute this with you, Sir, but I doubt I can manage another orgasm this night.”

  “Wise girl. You’ll make a superb submissive, though you must learn to let your Dom be the judge of what you can manage. Despite your unwarranted skepticism, I think we’ll play very nice for this last one. Roll over onto your back.”

  Fleur did as she was told. It never occurred to her that she might do otherwise. She spread her legs, expecting Ethan to use his mouth to bring her back to boiling point again. He did not. Instead, he knelt between her legs and lifted her hips onto his thighs. He smiled at her, his expression knowing. He was planning something, she was sure of it. When was he ever not?

  As she watched, he leaned behind him to grab his jeans from the floor, and extricated another condom from his pocket. Fleur’s eyes widened. Surely he couldn’t? Not so soon?

  Apparently he could. His erection had subsided hardly at all, she realized as he snapped the foil and unrolled the latex to sheathe himself. He guided the head of his cock into her pussy, slipping into her moist heat with ease. Fleur gasped, expecting it to be painful after so much intense activity, but it was not. Once there, seated to the hilt, he made no attempt to thrust. Instead he gazed down at the point where their bodies joined, tracing her stretched opening with his fingers.

  “You’re so beautiful, Fleur. You take my breath away.”

  “It is you. You are the breathtaking one, not I.”

  “We’ll see. If you want me to stop, you have your safe word. Otherwise, enjoy. You have my permission to come as hard and as often as you like.”

  Before she had any opportunity to reply, he trailed his finger along her clit, from the back to the front. Her own ministrations faded to insignificance in comparison with such exquisite and perfect stimulation. Fleur stiffened, thrusting her hips involuntarily.

  “Ah, you liked that, then? Are you still of the opinion that you can’t manage another orgasm for me?” His words may have been slightly mocking, but his tone was deadly serious. He intended to wring every last drop of pleasure from her before he would allow her to sleep. Fleur found she had no real quarrel with that plan.

  “No, Sir. You were right, I believe.”

  No further words were exchanged. None was necessary as he feathered his fingers across her sensitive bud. He was unhurried and skillful, seemingly knowing just how much pressure to exert, when to stop and let her draw breath and when to push her mercilessly toward climax. Fleur came again, could not help it as he teased and caressed her. His erection was hard, wide and solid inside her, but he didn’t move. Fleur loved the sensation of fullness he created for her, squeezing her inner muscles tightly around him as each shiver of delight shook her body.

  “That feels so good, little sub. When you come, I share every quiver, every little convulsion of yours. Come for me again, Fleur.”

  She obeyed, her body carried along on a sensuous wave over which she was powerless. Nor did she have any desire to exert even the slightest control. She was his, had been from the moment he came into the riad,
and now he had her entirely.

  He owed her one orgasm and he delivered three. Four perhaps. Spent at last, Fleur opened her eyes to gaze up at him. “Cashmere.” She whispered the safe word, but he was clearly expecting it and slid his fingers from her now exhausted body.

  “At last we’re agreed. You really can’t manage any more. Just this now…” He leaned over her and straightened his legs. Two quick thrusts later, his hot semen filled the condom, and at last, he was done.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Fleur woke to an empty, though not yet cold, bed. She thought she might be able to smell coffee, or hoped she could. Her stomach grumbled. Breakfast would be welcome. Sounds came from somewhere in the riad. The clink of a cup perhaps, and running water. Footsteps, drawers opening, a soft scrape here or the thud of a case hitting the tiled floor. The sounds of someone packing to leave.

  Today. He would leave today, to return to his home in London. Well, he might live in London. She realized she was not sure, had never asked him. But he was certainly leaving the Totally Five Star, and soon. She raised herself on one elbow to look at the time displayed on her phone beside the bed. Ten seventeen. Thinking back over the events of the previous night, she was not sure just what time he had finally accepted that she had had enough and allowed her to sleep. Two o’clock, maybe later. She thought she had slept for perhaps eight solid hours. She had needed it—she felt delightfully refreshed now.

  And quite desolate.

  He was going. Really going. She had known he would, but still it hurt. He would be checking out in a couple of hours, three at the most. She would probably never see him again. Despite the pain of separating, it was good, surely. That had been her plan, her rationale for allowing herself this incredible interlude, this snatch of time from an otherwise ordered, businesslike and for the most part unexciting existence. She could permit herself this, had permitted it, because the madness was temporary and would never happen again. It couldn’t. No one knew of her outrageous behavior, her uncharacteristic abandonment of all scruples, of anything remotely resembling inhibition or proper modesty. No one except Ethan, and he would be gone.