Serving Him: Sexy Stories of Submission

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Serving Him: Sexy Stories of Submission Page 13

by Unknown


  He steps back to undo my pants, crouching as he slides them and my panties down. Even the rustle of fabric over my clit makes me shiver, though not as much as his breath against my shaved pussy does. He pauses, looking me over and bracing my ass with his hands, before lowering his lips to my cunt. A single kiss makes me sigh before he slides his tongue between my lips to the entrance of my pussy and laps upward.

  The sensations almost overwhelm me, my body reacting strongly to his touch. I arc my hips forward, giving him easier access, and he repeats the motion with his tongue, slow and deliberate.

  My hands run over his scalp, nails trailing and clutching at him with each stroke. I’m too wound up; my legs are unstable, even with him supporting my ass. He picks up on my uncertainty when his next stroke actually causes my knees to buckle momentarily.

  He looks up at me, grinning, before standing back up and motioning for me to step out of the pants still encircling my ankles. He joins me in shedding that layer of clothing and when we’re finished, he reaches behind me, grips my ass and thighs and lifts me in the air. My legs wrap around him without hesitation, and I can feel the length of his cock pressing against my pussy and ass.

  “Fuck,” I mutter out loud without intending to. Feeling him so close, so hard, is torment all over again.

  “Yeah?” he responds, still grinning. He digs his fingers into my ass and starts sliding my wet pussy back and forth over his cock, but not putting it inside yet.

  “God-fucking-damn.” The list goes on as I verbalize my frustrations. He cuts me off with a kiss and swings us around, taking a few steps before lowering me to the ground. As he lowers me, his cock glides between my lips, over my clit, until it is pressed against my mound again.

  I’m about to continue my verbal abuse when he spins me around and bends me over on the back of a conveniently placed, comfortably padded chair in front of me. Hal is seated on the love seat directly across from us, still stroking himself lazily, though a bit more firmly now. His eyes are watching me intensely.

  James’s hands slide up my back, underneath my tank top, before moving back down to my ass, smoothing over each globe and then spreading my cheeks. I grip the chair, watching Hal’s cock slide between his fingers.

  Releasing my ass, James moves his hands down over my thighs, all the way to my calves and ankles, kneeling in the process. He shifts my legs apart even more, so I’m fully spread before him. Gripping my ass again, my cheeks spread, he starts licking trails along my thigh to my glistening lips. I lean down more and he buries his face in my pussy.

  His tongue starts at my clit, teasing the pert button, and then drags through the path between my lips, sliding inside me for a second. He repeats this, occasionally slicking his tongue around my asshole, making me squirm and back toward him.

  My eyes remain trained on Hal the entire time, watching him stroke himself with more intensity as my own orgasm builds. Seeing his pleasure growing as I moan under James’s touch makes my pulse and cunt throb in unison.

  I feel James pull away from me briefly and almost turn to see what has happened when he slips a finger inside me smoothly. I moan, eyes fluttering closed of their own accord, and then moan again more loudly as he adds another finger on his next stroke. He presses against my G-spot briefly, then adds yet another finger, my pussy accommodating it gladly. He thrusts inside me, increasing his pace slowly.

  My muscles tense and contract around his fingers as he brings me to a shuddering orgasm. As I come, cunt gushing, I open my eyes and see Hal stroking himself furiously, watching me scream only a few feet away from him. My legs give out beneath me, and I grasp at the chair even though I’m safely supported by it.

  I’m still riding out the end of my orgasm when James’s fingers slide out of me and his mouth returns to my clit. He laps at me expertly, deliberately and hungrily. After the attention on my G-spot, my clit is charged with sensation and a finger thrust sneakily into my ass sets me off again.

  I scream his name, Hal’s, and those of every deity I can think of as my body bucks in pleasure. He keeps the pace up as long as my pussy can take it, my orgasm lasting for what feels like hours and very well may be by the look on Hal’s face when I open my eyes again. He’s stopped stroking himself and is instead just circling his finger over the head of his penis.

  James has stilled behind me, and their sudden quiet snaps me out of my postorgasm glow.

  “Fuck her,” Hal states plainly, eyes locked on mine. Not a question, a demand.

  I grip the chair, shaking with anticipation from his statement. I hear James shift behind me and then one hand is on my hip, the other pushing my back down lower onto the chair so my ass is high in the air.

  The head of his cock brushes my clit lightly before he arcs his pelvis and thrusts inside me in one stroke. I moan as his girth fills me and my pussy twitches around him. I keep my eyes on Hal, who is stroking himself again, sitting on the edge of the love seat now.

  James thrusts into me, slowly, teasingly, tapping against my G-spot, pulling out, then barely sliding back inside for a few strokes before filling me again. My hips rock to the rhythm he’s setting, arching back toward him in an effort to drive him inside me farther.

  A sharp slap on my ass is James’s response to my attempts. Not exactly a deterrent, to be perfectly honest, but I take the hint and try to stay still. It’s becoming increasingly difficult, as my body is already building toward an orgasm, which my moans make very obvious.

  Hal shakes his head.

  “Harder,” he instructs James, watching my reaction.

  James slams inside me, making me cry out. He pauses between strokes but increases the amount of force with each one. I fight my orgasm, trying to ignore the pressure mounting at my core; ignore the way Hal is stroking himself, matching James’s thrusts; ignore the wetness dripping down my thighs.

  “Faster.” My eyes close as his tempo speeds up and I bite my lip, willing myself to control my reactions. My head drops as his thrusts move me over the chair, barely supporting myself anymore, simply being fucked, hard and fast.

  James grunts behind me and reaches forward to grab my hair, wrenching me up to face Hal again, arching my body so it’s impossible not to feel every deep stroke against my G-spot.

  I can’t hold it any longer. Hal knows it. He has a half smile on his face as I come against his wishes. My pussy squeezes James’s cock inside me, my screams drowning out everything else around me. He lets go of my hair as my body bucks wildly. The orgasm rips through me and then fades to a pleasant plateau of more to come, but the thrusts don’t slow down or let up as I anticipated. By the way James is gripping my hips, the cadence of his grunts, I realize he’s not just following orders.

  He’s fucking me hard and fast because that’s exactly what he wants to do.

  I raise my head, still recovering but feeling a surge rising in me again already. Whether that’s a good thing is unclear though, based on the expression on Hal’s face.

  I think I’m about to be taught a lesson on the importance of following orders.

  Hal leans back onto the love seat, legs askew, cock erect in one hand and the other raising to beckon me over.

  Propping myself up as best I can under the pounding I’m still taking, I look over my shoulder at James. He’s completely engrossed in what he’s doing, which, as that’s me, makes me hate to interrupt him. He notices the shift in my pose and looks down at me, then over at Hal before realizing what he’s requesting.

  Attempting to appear nonchalant, with only a hint of sadness in his expression, he runs his hands over my back to my ass before stepping away. My pussy is drenched, and he runs his penis over my ass as he leans over to help me stand up again.

  Gaining my footing, I give his cock a quick squeeze before walking over to Hal.

  I’m standing right in front of him and he points brusquely at my tank top, motioning for me to take it off. I do so, tossing it over my shoulder in James’s direction.

  “Hey!” he mu
tters, but trails off.

  Hal beckons again, and I move in closer, one knee on the sofa as I lean in for a kiss. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even really look at me and I second-guess his intentions a moment too late. His hand reaches up and snatches me by the neck, guiding me directly in front of his gaze.

  “I thought I said no.”

  I don’t move. I don’t blink. I don’t do anything obvious that could aggravate this any more. I do, however, feel my pussy tense in anticipation.

  He knows me too well. My innocent act doesn’t fool him, and he smirks at my attempt. His fingers tighten until I whimper.

  “I’m sorry,” I squeak out. He pushes me back until I’m standing again before letting go.

  “No, you’re not. But you will be.”

  He grabs me by the arm and spins me around to face away from him. James is watching us, transfixed, cock twitching as he waits to see what’s next.

  “You’re going to sit down, I’m going to fuck your ass and if you come, so help me…” Hal trails off. I nod, looking over my shoulder as I straddle him, positioning myself carefully. He’s still fully dressed other than his penis peeking through his opened pants. I start to lower down and he grips my ass, guiding me across him, my juices soaking his cock. I shudder as he brushes my clit, then yelp as he slides swiftly down to prod my asshole.

  He slips his head inside my ass and I bite my lip, closing my eyes and forcing my muscles to relax but somehow not relax enough for me to come in the process. He works inside me slowly as my asshole resists him, tight and unrelenting. Finally, he fills me and I breathe deeply, accommodating his thickness.

  Despite the fact that I’m not supposed to come, out of habit my hand drops to my clit to tease myself until my ass relaxes around his cock. He slides in and out slowly, my muscles fluttering around him with each thrust and each stroke of my fingertip.

  Hal’s arm snakes around me and pulls me close against his chest, the buttons of his shirt scratching at my back pleasingly. My head rests against his shoulder and he grips both of my arms, holding me in place and preventing me from putting any attention on my clit as he speeds up the tempo.

  I consider protesting and my eyes open to reveal that James is standing in front of us, cock in hand and a smile on his face.

  “I think she deserves it,” Hal grunts between thrusts.

  I realize what they’ve decided I deserve, and a shiver runs through me. Hal slows his thrusting as James leans down and lifts my legs up, spreading me and giving himself easier access to my pussy. His cock nudges my clit and I buck without meaning to. I don’t go very far with Hal still bracing my arms, but I’m having trouble controlling my reactions now, too excited to finally have them both filling me up.

  James braces himself, using the back of the love seat as leverage, and slides inside my pussy. I moan and he grunts as my cunt constricts around him. I’m already so full, but my muscles relax enough for them to begin alternately thrusting inside me.

  Hal slides out of my ass as James fills my pussy. I’m mindless from the sensations and they pump inside me relentlessly, their cocks drifting over each other inside me. They’re grunting in time to their thrusts and James leans forward to kiss me, cupping the back of my head to bring me toward him. He bites and sucks on my lower lip, fucking me harder as our kiss intensifies. Hal’s lips and tongue move along my neck, causing shivers on top of everything else.

  My body feels like it’s about to burst at the seams from their exertions and I’m moaning nonstop now, trying to somehow control the surging orgasm threatening to breach at any moment. I grip on to Hal’s thigh, my nails digging into his flesh, and he gets the hint. His mouth moves up to beside my ear.

  “Come.”

  They both fill me on the next stroke and I come, clamping down on their cocks, pussy and ass shuddering in relief. James’s kiss drowns out my screams and I grip on to both of them as my body bucks in pleasure. Heat radiates from my cunt, spreading throughout my body, and my orgasm hits a plateau as they continue thrusting, before spiraling up to an even more intense explosion of pleasure.

  My head falls back and Hal reaches up with one hand to cup my mouth as I scream in ecstasy. My vision blurs and I almost black out, but the constant drilling keeps me alert, if lost in sensation.

  They’re both grunting louder now, too, as my spasms work their cocks against each other, tighter with each stroke. James pulls out suddenly, spilling himself over my breasts, shooting streams of semen onto my body. Hal joins him moments later, coming inside my ass, his cock twitching as he spurts and his grip on me relaxing.

  I’m too exhausted to do anything more than lie there, and apparently that goes for the boys as well. James collapses onto the nearby chair with a satisfied smile, and Hal wraps an arm around my waist.

  After a few minutes of silence punctuated by heavy breathing, Hal reaches up and tweaks my nipple.

  “Hey!” I exclaim, brushing his hand off. He slaps my thigh in response.

  “Well, I was going to suggest a drink, but if you two are good to go again…” James trails off, and I can feel Hal’s cock twitch inside me.

  He’s joking, right? I think to myself.

  Looks like I’m wrong again.

  BREATH

  Mollena Williams

  The man I serve is not the Prince Charming of my childhood fantasies. Neither is he the dominant I conjured up from my fevered imaginings once I uncovered the buried bunker that was my submissive self. He is, in fact, very fucking far away from those imaginary beings. What I sought was someone near me, someone single, also monogamous, available to be a part of every facet of my life. Instead I landed feet first and stunned out of my right mind by a man who was quite polyamorous, already happily married and most of the continent away from where I lived. My brain and my powers of rational reasoning were sure that this was a situation that would never, ever take root. That it was impossible, outside of my desires, a terrible compromise. His smile, his confidence and the way he silenced the chorus of naysayers in my head within moments of pushing me into a corner and whispering into my ear turned the tide. His voice—cinnamon molasses, burnt honey and twilight—calmed me into relaxing my guard a bit. Just a bit, but that was all he needed. I found myself a shaking, loose-limbed rag doll, gazing unblinking into the depths of his eyes, green and sparkling and dangerous and delicious, and I knew that saying no to him was simply not an option…and never would be.

  In our play, he was always very personal. Though skilled with the whip and cane, and handy with rope and restraints and all manner of sharp, shiny danger, he preferred to use his hands. “I like to know it is me hurting you”—his voice slipped into my head and elicited my own slow smile—“because I enjoy that direct control far, far more than having an implement between us.”

  Agreed. His hands are, after all, so expressive. So descriptive.

  The first time I found his hands around my throat, I had a combined sensation of arousal and panic. I have a rather negative reaction to my breathing being cut off that way: it causes immediate headache and blinding pain. The first time this happened, he immediately went into triage mode to ensure I was okay. Submitting to an ER nurse has its upside. Deciding that the risk wasn’t worth it, he moved on to other excruciating torments. And let me tell you, nurses can be some sadistic motherfuckers—also an upside, as far as I am concerned.

  Since our relationship is long distance, the times when we do see each other feel heightened. There is so much to balance; his wife, other partners and the brevity of our time together serve to add weight and urgency to every encounter. So when I was able to see him again, after some absence, and look forward to playing with him, every aspect of my emotional, physical and mental selves was poised and sharpened.

  This particular event was held, as so many kink events are, in a hotel. I found myself on the floor in a playspace that had been assembled thanks to the labor and intentions of a close-knit group of people who run the event. My dominant is one of them, and
so taking time off from the work of running an event to stop and play is a precious connection indeed.

  There isn’t anything particularly special about a hotel ballroom. And there sure as hell wasn’t anything special about the hideous carpeting in said ballroom.

  But there is magic when you realize that you are being pushed into the aforementioned hideous carpet and you feel every inch of skin being abraded against it as you writhe on the floor, trying to breathe.

  I was past coherency. I didn’t think about anything clearly except how it was becoming more and more difficult to inhale. I was surprised to learn that my previous issues with breath-play had been neatly circumvented. I was aroused to see him smiling at me, calmly, as I struggled for breath.

  How did I wind up in a breath-play scene? Why can’t I breathe? He isn’t choking me… What is happening? Oh, god.

  This did not start out as a breath-play scene at all. It started out with one of my favorite toys, a flexible-handled cat-o’-nine-tails. A thuddy whip will get my attention every time. We’d started out with a silly opening to our scene, a playful teasing series of orders to strip, which I obeyed with a faux reluctance, a wink and a smile. The long crimson and saffron scarf that floated about my shoulders wound around my throat as I found the other end of it wound around his hand, but of course he wouldn’t strangle me with it…that was off the table.

  Warm-up consisted of the whip finding its flicker-tongued way across the back of my thighs, eliciting sighs and squeals alike from me. But there was an odd impermanence to the rhythm and before long he had put down the whip in favor of availing himself of my pain with his hands.

 

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