He dropped the magazine from nerveless fingers as she began to slowly massage his length from tip to base, as she gently cupped his balls. His cock began to throb. He felt her lower her mouth over his cock, as she took him deeply into the back of her throat. She slowly slid her mouth back and forth over his length, gradually increasing the suction and pace until, with a shout of triumph, he shot a stream of semen into the back of her throat. She swallowed the cum greedily and held his softening cock in her mouth.
Before she could get too comfortable, he said, “Ms. Sutton, that was quite adequate. Now remove your suit. I’ve wanted to see you peel out of that suit for some time.” She gave him a sultry look as she slowly unbuttoned the jacket of the red suit and pulled it off her shoulders and down her arms. She then slid the short, form-fitting pencil skirt down over her nicely rounded hips and stepped out of it. She stood before him in a red, lace demi-bra, thigh-high hose, and the infamous black pumps with red soles.
“Now, Ms. Sutton, bend over the edge of my desk and spread your legs,” he said in a commanding voice. What a sight! He’d been fantasizing about having her in just this position all week.
* * * *
She hastened to obey as she felt a light stab of fear, and the heat curled through her stomach and down into her drenched pussy. The added height of the black pumps boosted her butt into the air and stretched her hamstring muscles to their limit. She felt extremely exposed and vulnerable through the throb of excitement. “Spread those legs, Ms. Sutton. Don’t be coy. I know what a bad girl you are. Your wet pussy is all rosy and pouting. Just gorgeous!” he ran his hand over her round bottom and juicy slit, framed by the lacy edges of the thigh-high hose and enhanced by the “fuck me” pumps. The muscles of her legs and buttocks quivered. Was it excitement, nerves, or just cold from the air-conditioning blowing from the vents in the ceiling over her hot flesh? She didn’t know, but she was almost vibrating with need.
He slid his fingers lightly along the seam of her pouting pussy lips, spreading them wide, quickly dipping his fingers into the aching channel, and pumping in and out. He grazed her protruding clit with his thumb, and she rocketed into a gut-clenching orgasm. He slapped her bottom. “Not yet, Ms. Sutton. You are not to come without permission,” he said with menace. What? Oh no! She had heard of that but had never thought she would be in the “position” she now found herself.
“Yes, Mr. Devereau. I’m sorry, Sir! It won’t happen again. Please don’t spank me.” Now where the hell did that come from? Could I possibly have been subconsciously wanting a spanking? No…
“I’m afraid I have to spank you, Ms. Sutton. All infractions of the office rules are to be severely punished,” he said as his hand came down on her bare bottom with a resounding crack, followed quickly by three more smacks. She gasped as the stinging spread out across her bottom and reached hot fingers of need into her cunt. She struggled to control her reaction to the glorious feeling as he continued to finger-fuck her, and white hot lightning sizzled through her body.
“Oh, Mr. Devereau, fuck me, please fuck me. I can’t wait any longer,” she cried desperately as she felt the edge of a monumental orgasm building.
“All right, Ms. Sutton, you may come now,” he said. Without bothering to completely drop his trousers, Jamie slammed into her waiting pussy and drove her over the edge, hot blood rushing as the pleasure pumped through her veins like molten lava. As they slowly surfaced, Anne found herself still face down over the desk. She was dazed as Jamie slowly withdrew from her still-quaking body. He gently lifted her from the desk and into his strong arms. He carried her to the couch against the wall and sank down with her in his lap. He cuddled her against his wide chest and pulled a silk throw from the back of the couch over her cooling body.
“Oh my God, Mr. Devereau! I can’t believe what just happened,” she said in a still breathy voice. As she slowly came back to herself, a feeling of relaxation and accomplishment settled around her heart.
“Call me Jamie. The scene is over. When you settle down a bit, I’ll pour us both some champagne. And I snagged some chocolate covered strawberries from the kitchen. That was incredible. For a ‘newbie,’ you really get into a scene.”
“I’ve never done anything like that before. God, that was intense.”
“So, do you think you would enjoy participating in this type of ‘scene’ once in a while? Neither Justin or I are into any of the more extreme aspects of the Lifestyle. It’s really just for the fun of it. If it’s not fun and sexy, why bother?”
“I have to say that I found it very stimulating. It’s different than I thought it would be. The drama makes the emotions and physical reactions even more intense. Yes, I definitely would enjoy this once in a while.”
Chapter Nine
In their favorite suite, the Southern Plantation Suite, Calleigh and Jason relaxed on the screened veranda overlooking the English gardens and tranquil pond at the bottom of the lawn. It was dark, and they could see the fireflies flitting around in the garden. Jason had a brandy in a crystal snifter, and Calleigh had her usual Virgin Mary, sans alcohol due to her advanced pregnancy. Her baby belly, though not enormous, was starting to get in her way and on her nerves.
“One more month. I can hardly wait to hold Emily Rose in my arms,” she said, smiling softly. She looked up hopefully. “I think it would be nice if you would cuddle me.”
“That would be my pleasure,” Jason said as he lifted her into his lap, feigning a huge groan as though she weighed a ton.
She giggled. “I know you’re stronger than that! Stop your groaning and complaining.” She snuggled into his broad chest and asked impishly, “Can we play?” Calleigh had found that the hormones running rampant in her system since she had become pregnant made her desperately horny. She had also found that she needed to cajole Jason into making love as he was extremely concerned that she not injure herself or the baby with too much boisterous sex, as if there could be “too much” boisterous sex. And she had really been boisterous lately. She could hardly keep her legs closed. It was really rather embarrassing.
* * * *
“Only if you behave yourself and act like a lady,” he said sternly, grinning to himself. She’s really amazing. Most women eight months along are overweight, grumpy, have swollen ankles, and want to kill their husbands.
“Are you going to make my little nest?” she asked as he got up to get the extra pillows from the armoire. He had gotten this down to a science and had a routine that made him more comfortable having sex with his very pregnant wife. He arranged the pillows so that her belly was cushioned in a little circular nest and her very spectacular bottom was up in the air just where he liked it.
Jason had first been attracted to Calleigh when they had worked on the architectural plans for the club, although she had not known it was to be a BDSM sex club at the time. Her JLo ass had been the first thing he had noticed about her...and the last thing....and the middle thing. He had to admit it, he was an ass man, and hers was just fabulous, full and heart shaped, tapering into her long, elegant back. “You know I am. I wouldn’t want to take any unnecessary chances. Besides, you know I love having your beautiful ass in the air. It’s my favorite position.”
“Duh...no, I didn’t know that.” She grinned saucily. She fingered the pink pavé diamond heart on the white gold slave collar. She wore it in the upside down position on the collar since it resembling her lush bottom, and was their private signal that she was “in the mood.”
* * * *
After Jason had gotten the belly nest just the way he wanted it and Calleigh, naked and eager, situated in just the perfect position, he sighed dramatically and said, “Okay, slave, are you ready to confess your evil deeds? Or do I have to torture you to get a confession?”
“Oh, Master, please don’t torture me,” she begged piteously. They had this scene down pat as it gave Jason the opportunity to play with her to his heart’s content, stringing out the foreplay until they were both delirious with need.
One or two good orgasms, for which she really had to work, usually satisfied her. He couldn’t wait until they could resume their usual sexual routines without health and safety concerns. He thankfully had the benefit of a clear head, free of rampaging sex hormones, and was determined to keep control of the situation.
He knelt down at the foot of the bed between her widely spread legs and delicately began to stroke her pussy with his tongue, delving between the rosy lips to find the throbbing clit hidden at the top of her cleft. He stroked and nibbled her as she moaned with need. She spread her legs as wide as she could to allow him complete access. He drove his tongue into her passage as she began to writhe. “Be still, slave, or I will be forced to restrain you,” he threatened. He knew she loved his deep, steely Dom voice. He administered the little stinging slap to her bottom that was guaranteed to bring her right to the edge, and then he backed off, letting her orgasm slip away. He let her rest a moment as she breathed heavily and then began to bring her desire back up to a boil with the lightest caress of his talented fingers on her moist pussy. He circled her aching clit with his fingers, never quite touching the place where she most wanted him to touch her. He then plunged his fingers into her questing channel as she tried to raise her bottom to increase the pressure of his touch. He lightly slapped her butt again and said, “I won’t warn you again, slave. Who is in charge here?”
“You are, Master. You are,” she said desperately. She was almost to the point of begging when he rose above her, positioned his straining shaft at the entrance to her needy pussy, and drove home with a loud groan. “Oh thank God. I couldn’t wait another minute, Master.”
He plunged into her with long and slow strokes and a restrained power that took her breath away. She rose to meet the powerful strokes of his rigid cock as he withdrew and plunged again and again. He supported his considerable weight with his muscular arms, the dark hair on his wide, powerful chest tickling her back. When she had reached as high as she could, he said, “Come now, slave,” and he drove her over the crest of the wave to completion, and she coasted on to the shore of contentment with a sigh.
He held his still twitching cock deep in her pulsing channel as his heart calmed to a dull roar. With blood still pounding in his ears, he began a slow, steady, rocking stroke that quickly brought her to a second stunning climax. He collapsed as fulfillment overcame him, and they drifted into a light sleep still connected in the most intimate way.
Chapter Ten
Paula just loved the enormous mosquito-netted bed in the Sea Island Suite. Trent always reserved that suite when available for their occasional weekends at the club. It was so romantic and sexy, just like Trent.
She was curled up on the yummy bed waiting for him. He had said he had a surprise for her after dinner, but his surprises were not always good. Like that first weekend when he had spanked her, all because of a misunderstanding. To be truthful, she still had not completely forgiven him for that. Of course, her birthday present, one day a year as the Domme, the one on top, made up for a lot.
He was just gorgeous. She thought of him as a Nordic god, or a Viking warrior. She just never got tired of looking at him. He was tall and well-built with wavy, blond hair and chocolate-brown eyes she could drown in. Besides being extremely handsome and successful, he was a genuinely kind and caring person with a strong moral code. She really did admire him. She was reluctant to consider what else she might feel for him. For now, they were having fun and games.
“Paula, where are you, babe?” he called as he entered the suite.
“I’m in bed, waiting for you,” she replied with a grin.
He strode into the bedroom and the “Master” mode slipped over his shoulders like a royal mantle. “Strip, sub,” he said with the edge of command in his voice. “Kneel on the bench, and bend over the footboard.”
Oh crap! My least favorite position. Well, let’s see what he has in store this time. Grumbling, she did as he commanded, slipping out of the silky, red nightshirt she wore unbuttoned with nothing under it. She tensed slightly as she assumed the position.
* * * *
He could see her butt muscles quivering. He would have to do something about that, or this little surprise was not going to work out too well.
He stepped up behind her and ran his fingers down her spine and over her butt. “Relax, sub. There’s nothing to worry about. Your Master has everything under control.” He gave her butt a light smack and continued massaging her bottom until her muscles eased slightly. “Spread your legs, and arch your back,” he commanded. When her legs parted, he ran his finger down between her butt cheeks until he reached her rapidly dampening pussy. He circled his finger lightly around her slick clit and through her pouting lips. He avoided contact with the needy little bundle of nerves hiding at the top of her slit. He knew that drove her crazy and that she would try to maneuver herself to make that desperate contact, giving him the opportunity to smack her butt. It was a little game they played. She would never admit she liked the sharp stinging slaps on her bottom, but from his position, he could plainly see the effect they had on her. They invariably caused her pussy to gush hot cream, as did the smack he had just given her. “Remember, sub, no coming without permission.”
“Please, no, Master,” she whined as she backed her bottom up into his hands. As he continued to fondle her wet pussy with one hand, he uncapped the bottle of cherry lube with his other hand and doused the butt plug that was waiting on the bench. He squirted some lube onto his busy fingers as well as onto her cute little pink butthole. Her head popped up, and she looked over her shoulder at him with a frown.
“What are you doing?” That earned her another light slap on the bottom.
“Who are you addressing, sub?” He always had to remind her to maintain protocol during a scene.
“What are you doing, Master?” she gritted.
“I am expanding your anal muscles as well as your horizons, sub,” he replied as he inserted one finger into her ass and began to stretch the sphincter muscle in preparation for inserting the small, pink butt plug. He knew she would resist this as he had made little forays in this direction before. He was sure she would love it when all was said and done, but Paula was not always one to jump right on the bandwagon for something new, especially when that something took her outside her comfort zone.
“Master, I don’t think I want to do—”
“Silence, sub! I am the Master, and I will decide what we do. You forget yourself.”
“But...”
“Unless you want to use your safe word, I don’t want to hear another word out of you,” he said with menace in his voice. He knew she probably wouldn’t use the safe word for something that merely made her uncomfortable. The consequences were too dire, an immediate end to the weekend and a trip home in disgrace. The house safe word, “Magnolia,” was a sacred institution. As soon as it was uttered, all activities between them would stop dead.
“Trent, I really don’t—”
“That’s it. I have been entirely too lenient with you, sub, probably because of what happened that first weekend. I haven’t wanted to spank you again so soon. Your job is to obey your Master’s orders, not to try to ‘top from the bottom,’ which is your consistent habit. Your ass is mine, to love or to punish as I choose. And right now I choose to punish it,” he said as his hand came down on her bottom with a resounding crack, quickly followed by two more sharp swats.
She yelped as a shaft of excitement ran from her sore butt directly to her hot core. He ran his hands over the red marks on her bottom, soothing them, then pushed two of his fingers into her creamy channel, plunging in and out several times. He inflaming her drenched pussy before he delivered two more sharp slaps. “Now, are you ready to obey? Or does your ass need more remedial attention?”
“No, Master...” Two more quick slaps rained down on the upraised bottom. “I mean yes, Master, I will obey,” she squealed.
“Good choice, sub. Now relax your butt muscles and push back
into my hand when I insert the plug. It will go in a lot easier that way.” He could see she was still resisting, so he gave her butt another light slap as a reminder. He spread her butt cheeks and touched her pink asshole lightly. Running his finger around it, he spread more cherry lube then put the plug up against her little star opening. “Remember, relax and push back,” he reminded her. The plug was seated securely in her ass, the unique shape intended to keep it inside once it was placed behind the ring of muscle at her opening. He palpated the plug to be sure it was properly in place, and she groaned.
“Does it hurt?” he inquired in concern.
She thought about it for a minute and said, “No, Master. It feels strange. My ass feels really full.”
“Okay then, let’s relax for a while and let the plug do its job,” he said. He picked up a quilt as the evenings were still cool and wrapped her in it. He lifted her off the bench and into his arms with ease and walked out onto the veranda. He sat in one of the big white wicker rocking chairs, and settled her comfortably against his chest. “You know, the spanking I gave you that first weekend was for punishment, not pleasure, and you richly deserved it. So let’s not argue about that. What we’re doing tonight is strictly for pleasure, although you do need to be reminded to keep in the scene and to obey orders.”
“I didn’t find it pleasurable,” she lied.
“That’s just not true, Paula, and you know it,” he said, grinning. “You know I have a bird’s-eye view of your every reaction, and your gushing pussy makes that statement a flat-out lie. Keep lying to your Master, and you might get another spanking tonight.” He had a thread of steel in his voice. “I do love to see that little round butt of yours with a healthy, pink glow! Maybe I should try out the strap or flogger, or maybe a belt. What do you think? Jason’s the real expert with any leather instruments. He has great hand-eye coordination. I probably just need practice, lots of practice!”
Anne's Courage [Le Club 3] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 5