Spiced Vanilla

by Victoria Blisse

  “So do I,” I agreed, “but I’d understand if you wanted to leave me well alone. I’ve got a whole load of baggage.”

  “No, I want you, Emma, baggage or no. You set my body on fire, and you’re in my thoughts all the time. I want you, Emma, so much.”

  “Even though, I’m not experienced? I don’t know if I can be a very good submissive.”

  “Meh, I don’t care about that.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Anyway, you’ve done really well so far. I’ll never take it further than you’re comfortable with. I promise.”

  We kissed again. This time our whole bodies joined in, pursing and pressing as if our bodies were lips locked together in lust.

  I was dizzy with excitement and relief. He had not rejected me. He wanted me. It was amazing and so was the touch of his hands as they roamed up and down my body. They slipped beneath my top, and his slightly chilled fingers made me gasp, but they soon warmed up as they rubbed my skin. I wanted to feel him, too, so I dragged up his T-shirt to run my fingers up his back and pulled him closer.

  “Strip for me,” he gasped.

  “What?” I looked at him askance.

  “Strip for me, baby. I want to watch you take of your clothes. I want you naked.”

  “But, I—”

  “Don’t make excuses. Please baby, for me.”

  I melted. The pleading tone of his voice combined with the desperation in his eyes would have broken even the most determined of person.

  I stood up, my heart thumping, and pulled my T-shirt up and over my head. I thought I’d feel uncomfortable, that I’d be stiff and scared, but his gaze warmed me, and his obvious lust boosted my confidence. As I slipped out of my boots, I shimmied, and to take off my socks, I leant on his shoulder, dangling my bra-encased breasts in his face. He moaned, and I felt the cool air over my skin, but that was the only contact. I craved his touch, and I knew I’d need to be naked before I felt it.

  I unfastened my jeans and slid them down my thighs. He was seeing all of my most hated bits, my wobbly tummy and my chubby thighs, and I didn’t mind because I could hear the gasp of excitement that caught in his throat. His excitement made me bold. I kicked the jeans from my legs and wondered which item to take off next.

  I rubbed a hand over my chest, and as the other tickled over my knickers and crotch, my nipples decided it in the end. They were painfully erect, and the lace of my bra was too stimulating for them. I reached behind myself and located the clip. I wish I could say it pulled apart first time, but no, I struggled with it a moment, twisting and contorting until one hook gave and I managed to tease the other hooks into submission.

  His smile showed his amusement, but as I peeled the material from my breasts, the smile became a leer, and I revelled in it. I stroked my hands over the burning hot skin, teased the thick, hardened nipples and rolled my fingers down over my stomach.

  I wanted to tease him even more, but I was too turned on to play further. I slipped the knickers off my hips and let them pool at my feet.

  “Okay, I’m naked. What next?” I asked with a cheeky wink.

  “Get on your knees, baby. Here by my feet.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I whispered it, the words sticking in my throat which was now dry with excitement. It was just what I wanted, to be commanded and to obey, to be lusted after and cared for. I dropped to my knees and shuffled the few inches over to him, my breasts swaying with each move.

  “Now.” He pulled open his trouser zip and popped open the button. His cock eagerly rose from between the brass teeth and the moisture returned to my mouth as I held back from drooling with sheer lust. “Suck my cock, my sweet slut.”

  “Yes, Master,” I purred and pressed my lips to his tip, tasting his saltiness. My tongue whipped out and circled him. I wanted him so much. I needed to feel him in my mouth. I wanted to pleasure him and, in doing so, pleasure myself.

  His hand sat possessively on the back of my head, but he didn’t push or guide my actions. He just stroked and pulled my hair in response to my lips and my tongue as they explored him. When I took him in my mouth, his breath hissed from between his teeth, and as I slipped my lips lower, the exhalation turned into a groan. My senses were overwhelmed, his musk surrounded me, his taste filled my mouth and the sound of his breathing filled my mind. His touch kept me tingling, and the thought of what I was doing was almost as thrilling as the rest of the actions all pulled together.

  “Oh, you’re so good,” he groaned. “You’re such a sweet slut. You drive me wild. You drive me insane with lust.”

  I smiled around his cock, pleased by his praise. I continued to slip up and down his hardness, my lips squeezing him, my tongue moving over his sensitive skin. With each bob of my head, I tried to take him a little deeper. I went from the tip, to half of his cock fitting in my mouth, to being just a scant inch away from taking it all.

  His moans got more frenzied the deeper his cock sunk into my throat. I loved the feeling of him there. It felt so nasty, so dirty, so good. He obviously agreed.

  “Oh Emma, darling, I’m going to come.”

  I tried extra hard to take all of him as my lips plunged down his cock again, and I was rewarded with his pubic hairs tickling over my lip and his hot, salty juices spurting down the back of my throat. I sucked him lovingly as I pulled off him after drinking his juices. I licked my lips and smiled up at him.

  “Fuck, you’re good.” He grinned, and I flushed with pleasure. “Hop up onto the sofa now, please.”

  “Yes, Master.” I winked, and he smiled.

  “Cheeky thing.” He kissed me. His hands roamed over my naked body, and my pleasure rumbled from the back of my throat. His caresses set my body alight. I felt as if I was burning up. My skin felt tight, and my insides bubbled like boiling water.

  “My turn,” he whispered in my ear then slipped off the sofa and onto the floor at my feet. He hauled my legs apart and settled on his knees between them. Forcefully, he dragged me by the hips until I perched on the very edge of the sofa. He then pulled my thighs until they were stretched wide, my pussy completely exposed to his sight. I fell back, my shoulders resting on the sofa back, a gaping hole between my arched back and the sofa itself.

  “Wow, you have a beautiful cunt,” he exclaimed and ran a finger gently up and down between my lips, tracing through the moistness there and tickling my arousal until I writhed, wanting to feel more of him than just his fingertip.

  He sunk that finger into me. Slowly, it slipped inside, and I clung to it as my pussy shuddered with pleasure. He stroked my insides, and his breath tickled over my clit. I pressed my hips up, lifting my pelvis hoping to force him into movement. He left me there, aching, leaning up and hoping until I was mewling with frustration. Then, very gently, he swept his tongue over my clit and tears pricked my eyes from the sheer force of the pleasure that ripped through my body.

  He set up a gentle but insistent rhythm between his tongue and his finger. I was entranced by both, under his fucking spell, literally. I shuddered and shook, shockwaves rolled through me, reaching to my toes and fingertips, to my lips and my aching nipples. My whole body tingled with ecstasy.

  He made me come all over his face. I screamed and shuddered and, after a moment, tried to close my thighs, but he wouldn’t let me. I felt so sensitive, but he just kept on licking me.

  “No more,” I gasped. “I can’t take it.”

  “I’ll say when you can’t take any more,” he growled and returned to what he was doing. He moved his tongue around my clit, careful not to hit it directly, and I couldn’t help but moan. He slipped his tongue lower and replaced his finger inside me with it. He sucked me dry, his tongue probing and prodding until I was screaming and panting and coming all over again from his talented attention to my sensitive slit.

  “Now, I’ll stop.” He grinned and licked his lips. “Because I need to fuck you.” He stood, and I saw his cock was hard again. His ministrations hadn’t just been pleasant for me, he had quite obviously enjoyed them himself,
too. He pressed a hand against the outside of my thigh and encouraged me to lie across the sofa. I rested my head on the arm and lay back, my body still blissed out from the orgasms he’d just given me.

  He knelt on the sofa between my open thighs, lifted my arse and slipped a cushion beneath it, both making me comfortable and tipping me up so that it would be easier for him to fuck me.

  He didn’t tease me this time. He was obviously too excited to play games. He thrust into me with one hard push, and I screamed as he stretched me around his hot prick. It stimulated me inside and out, and as he moved, I whimpered with sheer delight. He stayed upright on his knees and rested one hand on my thigh, the other on my knee. He steadied himself and held me still as he took his pleasure from my wet hole.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he gasped, and I opened my eyes. He stared at me, and my cheeks flushed. “I am the luckiest man alive. I love fucking you.”

  “I love being fucked by you,” I moaned.

  “You’re my sweet slut, my gorgeous slave.”

  He kept his gaze on me, and I couldn’t break away. I watched the pleasure as it wrote itself all over his face. His eyes widened, the pupils dilated. His skin tightened, and his jaw loosened. His tongue flicked out and wet his lips. I knew he was about to come, and I watched as the realisation dawned on him, and his eyes squeezed close as the force of it hit him.

  “Yes,” he cried, his cock shuddering inside me, sending shockwaves of pleasure from my toes to my fingertips and back. “Oh, Emma, I…” He opened his eyes, and he hesitated. “I love you.”

  I smiled. My face exploded with it. “I love you, too, Master, Jack, I love you, too.”

  He lay on top of me then, wrapped his arms around me and held me close in his warm embrace.

  “Emma,” he whispered. “I do love you, but I hope you’ll understand when I say that scares me a little.”

  I heard in the hesitation of his voice how difficult it was for him to admit that.

  “I do understand, Jack. I feel the same way. I’ve never felt like this before, and it’s all a bit overwhelming, but I do know I want this. I want to be with you. I need you, Jack. I love you. I think I’ll get used to feeling it the longer I spend in your arms.”

  He squeezed me tightly. “I think so, too, sweetheart. We’ll do this together, right?”

  “Yes, we will.” I smiled.

  “Jack?” I asked.

  “Hmmm,” he replied.

  “Can I have my cake now? That’s all I came for really.”

  “Ha,” he laughed then kissed my smiling lips. “You cheeky minx! For that, you’ll get a spanking, young lady!”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” I flushed, happy to have my cake and eat it, too.

  About the Author

  Victoria Blisse is a mother, wife, Christian, Manchester United fan and erotica writer. She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories. Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

  Email: victoria@victoriablisse.co.uk

  Victoria loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totalebound.com/.

  Also by Victoria Blisse

  The Sexier Side of the Hill

  Travel Delight

  The Festive Handbag

  Secret Surprise

  Christmas Spirit Warms the Heart

  Over the Moon: Moon Shy

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