I stepped back to admire her, and paused, conscious of my own wetness and of my clit pulsing with the beat of my heart. I ached to touch her, and I let that ache build as I looked at her. Warily, she watched me watch her, and relaxed when she saw that, in the symbiosis of being desired, her potent femme’s power was intact. Held open like a wanton offering, Rosalie’s eyes met mine steadily, proudly. She knew her own beauty; pretty, pretty girl.
“Don’t just stand there,” she said. “I know you want me.” “Oh yeah, I do. I’m dying to have you,” I said. “That’s why this is gonna hurt me more than it hurts you.”
She looked startled.
I sat for a moment on the bed between her thighs, slowly looking at every intimate detail of her body, finally meeting her eyes. She licked her perfect pink lips in an unconsciously catlike gesture of nervousness.
I leaned forward, letting my long black hair brush her thighs, and made myself comfortable on my belly, my face inches from her exposed cunt. Damn, she smelled good.
I exhaled slowly, open-mouthed, warm breath blowing ever so gently across her flesh.
She squirmed.
“Do it,” she muttered.
“Do what?” I breathed “Go on, taste me.”
“Maybe.”
She wiggled halfheartedly, but the ropes prevented her from changing position. I moved closer still, my hair swinging once more against her skin, my lips an inch from her clit. I breathed slowly in through my nose, out through my mouth, making the flow of air as warm as possible.
“Fuck,” she said, to no one in particular.
“Maybe that’s what I’d like to do. Slide my fingers inside you, fuck you,” I said, letting each exhaled word play over her clit.
“Yeah, fuck me.”
“Maybe,” I said.
I noticed the spot I was breathing on seemed to be drying a little from my hot breath, but the very entrance to her cunt was becoming drenched. I lifted up, scooched forward, and dropped a very unladylike wad of spit right at the top of her slit, then added another as I watched the first start to trickle downward.
“Ahh, fuck, what are you…why won’t you…? Jez, do something!” she sputtered.
I grinned at her. “Maybe.”
I went back to breathing on her, slowly, with all the warmth I could muster. Every so often she tried to shove her cunt in my face, but as she didn’t have much slack, it was easy to avoid contact.
I lost myself, as if in meditation, as I pushed each exhale hotly past her clit, thinking nonthoughts about the sweet, musky scent of her cunt and her stifled growling noises. Every so often I added another bit of saliva above her clit, never touching her, but watching her twist and groan at the sudden sensation of wetness.
“There’s a puddle under your ass now, not spit but cunt juice,” I breathed, whispering to her clit as if it was my secret friend, not mentioning the wetness under my own hips.
“Touch me, you fucker.” She started a rhythmic rocking motion, moving as far as the ropes would allow, only an inch or two each way.
I extended my tongue and made it a hard point, letting her make the barest contact between my tongue and her clit. Immediately I felt her reaching for me with her hips, as far as she was able. But I simply held my place, using the faintest possible pressure as her clit brushed my tongue-tip on the upstroke and the downstroke.
After about a few dozen downstrokes, she suddenly sucked in and held her breath, and I leaned back and away from her, watched her pretty face contort in a snarl and the entrance to her cunt twitch hungrily. Nice.
“Why won’t you lick me, you evil bitch-bastard?”
“Because I’m worried about mussing my lipstick,” I said. She started cursing, colorfully. Her cursing would have made a pirate’s parrot lose feathers. It would have made a biker blush. It made me laugh, out loud and joyful.
I climbed up her body, nestled my hips between her spread thighs, and snuggled in. She gasped as my pubic hair pressed into her cunt after so long without touch, and I smiled down at her.
“Holy, you’re so wet, I think I might get a steam burn.”
“Fuck you.”
“Is that your safeword?”
“No!” And then she started cursing again, as I lifted my body from hers and nuzzled into her tits, getting to know them. They were soft and weighty, full and rounded; the left one was slightly larger, a touching imperfection. Her large, dark nipples pointed straight at the ceiling, and went stiff as I watched.
Not every woman considers her nipples an erogenous zone, so I suckled on one for a second, to test. She gasped and bucked toward me, not away.
“Hey—are these candy?” I exclaimed happily, and dove right in.
I happily lost myself in no time again, moving from nipple to nipple whenever I thought the other might be getting lonely, lightly and experimentally sucking, biting, and licking until I thought I had deciphered the language of her curses and wriggles. What she liked best seemed to be a firm, direct suction at the tip of her nipple, with a slight graze of my teeth every so often. She never quite stopped trying to bring her body in contact with mine, but I stayed up on my elbows, with just my soft belly occasionally picking up wet streaks from her cunt. It wasn’t just to tease her; I thought I might embarrass myself by coming if I humped her thigh even for a second.
Finally, I left her wet, chewed, lipstick-stained nipples and ran my tongue in a trail down the curves of her belly, across her garter belt, continuing on in a casual fashion along the length of her cunt. She hissed when I contacted her clit on the way, growled when I dipped inside her, and began to rock against me when I dragged my tongue back, making my tongue flat and soft and dragging it so very slowly up between her labia.
“Oh please,” she said when her hard clit just naturally slid into my mouth, my tongue pressing underneath. “Please. That. Do that. Oh….” She sounded sniffly, so I sat up a little to check how she was. Her expression was soft and unfocused, her eyes full of tears. I felt the little spot in my heart grow even warmer with affection for her.
“What do you want, Rosalie the Beautiful?” I asked tenderly, adding my private qualifier to her name for the first time.
She smiled fuzzily at that. “Please touch me, Jez. Lick me. Fuck me. I’m going out of my mind.”
“Yeah, I think maybe it’s time,” I said. And, watching her face, I slid one finger inside her, found she was wet enough, pulled out, and pushed three fingers back in, a little roughly. Her eyes rolled back and her whole body welcomed me in. I slid out and back in again, and her mouth opened soundlessly, her back arched. I did it again, and again, experimenting, trying to learn everything about her in a few short strokes.
I made a guess that she’d like to be fucked hard and fast, in direct contrast to my soft teasing game. Oh yeah. Then I thought maybe adding direct pressure on her G-spot would feel right, and within a second knew I’d guessed correctly. She held nothing back, her body and face telling eloquent stories about her body’s responses.
Time enough later, or tomorrow, for my harness and dick. No time, right now, even to reach for the lube. She seemed close to coming already, and I didn’t want to tease her for even one moment more.
I moved and took her clit in my mouth again, soon finding the steady side-to-side rhythm that made her cunt clench around my hand. I closed my eyes and put everything I had into pushing her over the edge, lost in her taste and smell, reaching as far as I could inside her with every stroke of my fingers.
Rosalie went rigid, shaking, and her soft cries grew urgent. Her cunt clamped around my fingers, almost squeezing me out, but felt I knew what she needed. I pushed harder inside her.
When I felt her muscles flex and heard the ropes attached to the headboard creak, I concentrated on her clit, flicking it hard with my tongue, once, twice, a third time…and she sucked her breath in and then wailed like a cat. She came in intense, shaking waves, her cunt’s deep throbbing squeezing my fingers, and I kept going, fucking her more and more g
ently until the tension slowly melted out of her muscles, and it was time to stop.
I slid up her bound body, released the buckles on her wrist cuffs, and looked fondly at her. Breathing hard, flushed, and tear-streaked, she was more beautiful to me then than any woman I’d ever seen.
Despite everything we’d done in the last hour, her lipstick was still raspberry-glossy and perfect.
So I kissed her.
The Second Hour
L. Shane Conner
I spent the first hour of the party nursing exactly two beers. I wanted to be blind drunk and away from myself, but I couldn’t seem to put the stuff down fast enough. I finally made it to my third beer and sat down on one of those flip-a- fuck foldable mattress chairs in a corner. I shouldn’t have been tired, especially with the volume of the music. I didn’t really even know why I’d come except that I didn’t have anything better to do and some girls I met at a club the month before invited me. Moving to a new city’s a pain in the ass. I was thinking about looking for something harder to drink when a woman I’d never seen before came right up to me and put one foot down on the chair between my legs. I thought I was imagining it for half a second; then she leaned forward, pressing her weight down through the toe of one high black leather boot directly onto my clit. I stopped breathing for a minute or a day. The party was gone and there was just the light reflecting off this knee-high leather boot and my heart beating in my clit.
Next there was her hand pulling a silver flask from the inside pocket of her leather jacket. She drank, handed it to me, and as I drank she reached forward and tipped the flask up with just her two fingers. It was sweet and strong. I closed my eyes and let it fill my mouth until she pulled it away. Warmth coursed through me, right down to the tip of her boot. I looked up and tried to speak but she caught me with a sharp, open-handed slap, just hard enough to get my attention. My head was light but I could feel the pressure of her boot and the beginning of an even buzz in the base of my brain.
“Get up.”
She stepped back and after a short battle with equilibrium and my legs, I stood. I looked at the space between her knees, the hem of her skirt just short of midthigh, and the narrow heels of her boots. She pushed me toward the door, which I opened and held for her.
I followed a step behind her as we walked to her car. It was a small kind of SUV, black, with leather seats. Once we were inside, she kissed me, hard and deep, then she made me kneel on the floor facing the seat and it didn’t occur to me to object until I was already on my knees. I heard the glove box open behind me and then there were handcuffs around my wrists. She slid the seat back up and I found I couldn’t move. She leaned down and whispered in my ear.
“Either I’m going to take you home and do what I like with you, or you say no and I’ll let you out of the car right now.” I wanted her. I kept quiet. She pulled my head toward the dash by the short hairs at the back.
“Give me permission, then. Say yes or it stops now.”
I turned my head up toward her and her hand caught my cheek again. It was more than I’d felt in months. I couldn’t raise my voice above a whisper and I couldn’t move.
“Yes.”
She didn’t answer and I thought maybe she’d lost interest. “Please yes.”
She blindfolded me then and I felt a kind of relief. If I couldn’t see her anyhow, I didn’t have to try to look anymore. I let my weight fall forward onto the seat but she pulled my head back again and pressed what felt like a rubber ball into my mouth. I accepted it like the mouth of the flask earlier. It was another few seconds before I realized it was a gag. As she pulled it tight I could feel my lips spread and my tongue press into the floor of my mouth. She let go and I let my chest rest on the seat again. The car lurched forward.
When the car stopped again I had no idea how much time had passed. For months I hadn’t even been able to masturbate successfully, and for however long she’d been driving I’d been closer than anybody’s best effort since my last relationship started to go south. The seat slid backward and I went with it. I heard her car door slam shut and for a little while I was alone, then the door next to me swung open.
She dragged me out of the car and I fell on the pavement, somehow not hitting my knees or elbows. I heard the muted sound of what remained of my voice squeeze out around the ball gag and I felt the toe of her boot push in under my face. For the first time since she’d put the gag in place, I wished it wasn’t. She helped me roughly to my feet, put some kind of collar around my neck, and took a step away. I felt a tug and realized she’d put me on a leash. I followed her, stumbling blindly on steps, doing my best to keep my feet. I heard a key in a door and heard it swing open. She led me in and, I thought, through a couple of rooms until I found myself face to face with a wall. There was a click and I knew she’d taken the leash off. The handcuffs were next. I wanted to rub my wrists but I stood still, waiting.
She pulled my jacket off and tossed it across the room. Her slow, even, breath made my heart sound loud and fast. She came closer and I could feel the heat of her body through my thin shirt right before she pulled me backward, off balance. I tried to keep my feet, I think just by reflex, but she dropped me easily and smoothly to the floor. She told me to take off my boots and I fumbled, loosening the laces just enough so my socks came half off with my boots. Her voice was low and quiet and, as she directed me to undress completely, I was so focused on listening that I barely noticed what I was doing. The evenly spaced slats of the wood floor were cool under my bare ass but the room was warm. Everything was still. I heard her boots crossing the room and I felt like I was breathing in time with the even clicking of her heels against the floor.
I tried not to move, unsure of where to put my hands, wishing she would touch me again. A dull throb had started in my clit and seemed to radiate out, turning my body into a single pulsing organ. I was sure she was watching me. I heard her boots take a few steps followed by the sound of something scraping across the floor and stopping nearby. I couldn’t identify the next several sounds but when I turned my head, trying to capture something more, she put a boot down on my chest just above my breasts and pushed me down. The other boot came to rest just above my pubic bone. She must be sitting down.
I felt more naked than I’d ever felt before. I heard the unmistakable sound of a cigarette lighter sparking to life, and for a moment the light-headed onrush of adrenaline blocked out everything else. I didn’t even know why. As the wave of it passed over and out of me I realized she was sitting in a chair smoking, using my body for a foot rest. I became aware of my body then, beginning with the skin her boots rested on. I could feel the exact shape of them and the distribution of her weight. There was a slight draft in the room and it made me more and more aware of the growing wetness between my legs. Once I started to feel that, it held all my attention. I was sure she must see it, must be staring at it.
Suddenly her boots were gone, the chair slid back, she stood. I wanted to move toward her, my body ached to be touched. She made me get onto my hands and knees, walked behind me, and stopped there. I heard a rustling sound followed by a small snap. I felt her gloved hand on the inside of my thigh and I couldn’t breathe. I was afraid any movement might make her take her hand away. She slapped at my thigh, forcing me to spread my legs further. The muscles in my lower back tightened and I felt my ass trying to push itself higher. She moved her hand forward across my swollen labia, teasing my clit with a fingertip, letting me feel how slick I was. I felt an involuntary moan trying to escape but I closed down on the gag.
She had me crawl across the floor a little way, then she stopped me and got me up onto a bed, laying me down on my back. My body seemed to sink into the softness of it after the cool hardness of the wood floor. She ran a hand over my breasts and my back arched toward it before I could stop myself. She laughed quietly and pulled her hand away. I tried again to hold as still as possible while she fastened a restraint around my right wrist, then my ankle, and then the other side,
stretching me across the bed. All my attention was on whatever part of me she happened to be touching.
She slapped my clit just hard enough to make my whole body jump and I realized how little I could move. My arms and legs tensed. There was a steady hum inside my head. I whimpered around the gag. The muscles around my clit twitched and spasmed. She tapped lightly, teasing. She tickled, she rubbed, she pushed her fingertips between my labia, just barely inside. I tried to thrust my hips toward her and I started to feel my whole body rising off the bed. If I hadn’t been gagged I would have pleaded with her. I stopped trying to control the sounds coming from deep in my throat. I stopped trying to struggle and I stopped trying not to. Everything was slick and wet. I could feel her slowly stretching me open wider, pushing my resistance away. Her mouth was on my clit, sucking, nibbling, grazing me with her teeth. I wanted to spread my legs further apart, I wanted to pull her to me. I felt the wave of orgasm begin to sweep through me and then I felt the last piece of resistance give way and she was inside me. I felt the widest part of her hand slip in as I came. My body held her inside and she held me, suspended inside the wave of my orgasm. Nothing else could feel like that. Her whole fist filled me in places I never knew were empty. The universe was reduced to the places her two hands touched. Time was gone, the sunlight was fresh and warm.
Soon my arms and legs were free, the gag and blindfold were gone, and I was curled against her naked breasts. I felt like a child, completely safe. She kissed my forehead and pulled a blanket over me and I slept. In the morning she told me her name.
The Rock Wall
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