Carrot and Coriander

by Ashe Barker

  Rolling onto his back, he reached for the small vibrating eggs he’d noticed on the bedside table when he’d first come into the bedroom. He’d spotted the dildo too, but decided to save that for another time, reckoned his cock would have to do just fine today. It twitched inside his jeans, and he decided he needed to be naked. He unzipped his jeans and pushed them off, kicking them to the floor alongside Rachel’s pretty pink briefs.

  “What are you doing?” Rachel had probably felt the bed move and shift, and of course she would have known he was no longer touching her. He noticed she made no move to close her legs. That was good. He didn’t answer her, not immediately, and after a few seconds she repeated the question.

  “I’m looking. And thinking. Deciding.” She shivered, he saw her body quiver. He was certain she was not cold.

  “Deciding? What are you deciding? I thought…” There was a slight catch in her voice, and he was quick to calm her again.

  “Shhh. Trust me, love.” And he moved again, this time sliding from the bed to kneel beside it. He reached for Rachel, gently but firmly turning her so she lay at a right angle across the duvet, her widespread thighs right in front of him. With his palms on the backs of her legs just above her knees, he pressed them back to raise her body up slightly and open her wide. He bent his head, drew his tongue the entire length of her cleft.

  Rachel screamed.

  Callum did it again. And again. She was shaking when he finally lifted his head to survey her bright pink, sleek, moist folds.

  “Christ, you’re so beautiful. So wet and hot and tight. Let me feel how tight you are.” He slipped just one long finger into her pussy. Rachel stiffened, arching her body now, lifting her hips. Her breath came in short bursts. It would not take much provocation to bring her hurtling back to orgasm.

  “Mmm, you need something nice in here, don’t you. I know just the thing…”

  “Please, I need…”

  “What do you need? Tell me.”

  “I need you to…” Her voice trailed off again. He was aware that at this stage in their relationship he needed to urge her, insist that she put her needs into words. There was no place for coyness between them. He would not stand for that.

  “Yes? What do you need me to do to you, Rachel?”

  He plunged his finger deep into her once more. It was enough. “I need you to fuck me. Now. Please.”

  Callum thought there was a very real chance his balls might just explode if he didn’t get inside her in the next millisecond. Christ, she was hot. Sexy and exciting, and utterly, utterly submissive. He’d seen it from the start, seen the signs as she watched him from the window, brought him cups of tea, offered him soup. And here she was. Living proof, lying bound under him, her legs spread, ready. She was so damned good. And bad. But there was a time for patience, and this was it.

  “What a nice idea. And so delicately put. I will. Soon. But first…”

  Rachel groaned inwardly as Callum pulled his fingers from her body, using them instead to part her labia. He ran the tip of his right index finger around the entrance to her pussy, not quite penetrating her, but enough to get her attention. And keep it. Rachel was rigid under his hands, her concentration totally fixed on the sensations he was evoking The blindfold had done its work, as he had surely known it would, eliminating all other distractions, forcing her to focus exclusively on what was happening between her thighs, at her core.

  Rolling the linked eggs in his free hand to test the weights, he then slid the first one quickly inside her entrance. Rachel gasped, tried to jerk away.

  “Keep still.” His tone was firm, authoritative. And effective. Rachel lay still. She quickly realized what he was doing, these were her toys after all, though she’d never considered their insertion could be quite this sensual. She’d used them herself, naturally, once or twice, because she’d read somewhere—Cosmopolitan probably—that they did wonders for the pelvic floor muscles. It’s important to look after your pelvic floor.

  Then she stopped thinking entirely as he flicked the small button on the base of the second egg to send vibrations rippling the length of her channel.

  “Oh God. Oh God, please.” She was writhing on the bed, her shoulders pulling now against the restraints as she wrestled with the waves of sensation now engulfing her.

  “Just Callum will be fine. I’m guessing you like that…?”

  “It’s, it’s…please… It’s too much. I need. Stop, I can’t…”

  Still kneeling between her legs, Callum reached over, placed his hands on Rachel’s shoulders to hold her still. “Shhh, you’re fine. Just lie still for a second, let your body adjust.”

  “No, I can’t…” Her head was thrashing from side to side, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip.

  “Are we having a carrot and coriander moment?”

  The question brought her frantic movements to a sudden halt. “What? No, I mean, I…”

  He laid the pad of his thumb on the tip of her clit, flicked slightly, then rubbed. “And now?”

  Rachel lost it. Her second orgasm was on her out of nowhere, she was flying again, spinning weightless and out of control as the eggs continued to tremble against her inner walls, shooting their special magic right to her core, and Callum’s skilled fingers did the rest. And this time, he wasn’t letting up. As the orgasmic eruption ebbed, as she began to drop back into her body, he leaned in and took her swollen, throbbing clit in his mouth. He grazed it with his teeth then sucked. Hard. And he carried on sucking the sensitive bud as she shot off once more into that swirling oblivion she was coming to know so well. Pinned in place, open, defenseless, she was his to control, to work, to play as he liked. And it seemed that he did like. He forced her to crest twice more before he finally took pity, sensed her growing exhaustion, and allowed her to sink back into herself.

  Rachel was moaning quietly, the sound one of utter contentment, as he gently, slowly drew the eggs from her body, dropping a kiss on the sensitive hollow where her thigh met her groin. Cupping his palms under her bottom, he murmured to her softly, “Shuffle back, love, farther onto the bed.”

  In an obedient haze, Rachel did as he’d asked. He followed her, positioning himself between her thighs. His elbows on the bed, beside her shoulders, he reached behind her head to untie the blindfold. She blinked as he pulled it free, still feeling more than slightly stunned as she gazed up at him. He winked at her. “Welcome back.”

  “I— Wow that was…”

  “Yes, certainly was. Still is. Now, you had a request earlier. You were most insistent that I should fuck you. I think you’ve earned it. But you’ll have to ask me again. Nicely.”

  She hesitated, momentarily shy in spite of what had just happened between them. But not for long. “Fuck me. Please. If you would.”

  His grin was wicked. “Oh, I would. I definitely would.” He rolled off her then leaned down to grab a condom from the pocket of his discarded jeans. She knew she was staring as he tore the foil and unrolled the latex along the length of his shaft.

  “Next time, you can do this.” He lifted an eyebrow, obviously seeking her agreement.

  Rachel simply nodded, her eyes riveted on the smooth, thick cock between his hands. She flicked out her tongue, licked at her lower lip,

  “Rachel Saunders, I do believe you’re drooling. What a slut you are. Who’d have thought it, and you a respectable accountant as well? We’ll have to deal with that. Later.”

  Then there were no more words. He positioned himself over her, the head of his cock at her entrance, inserting just the tip between the lips of her pussy. He caught her gaze, held it. And thrust hard, deep. Her mouth opened, her scream was silent as she arched backwards, accepting his length, adjusting, stretching and tightening around him. He allowed her a few moments, no more, for her body to become accustomed to his, to adapt and re-arrange, to accommodate his body inside hers. Then he pulled back, and thrust again, plunging deep once more. He was hard, fast, and set up a demanding rhythm. Rachel respond
ed, matching his thrusts, gyrating her hips, her inner walls clenching and caressing, gripping his cock as he pumped relentlessly.

  “I— Callum, please, I…”

  “More? Harder?”

  “Yes, all of that. I need to, I think, I…”

  Her words were lost as her climax shook her body again. She idly noted that she’d come more times in the last hour or so with Callum than in pretty much the rest of her life to date. Not that she’d been counting, exactly, but still.

  He slowed, his rhythm gentling inside her. He adjusted his angle to better hit that spot he’d discovered, that spot that would send her hurtling and spinning and shivering into delighted ecstasy again. And again. It seemed to Rachel that years and years of unused orgasmic energy was somehow venting now as he drew climax after shattering climax from her unresisting body. Effortlessly. His own stamina and staying power was impressive too, and she thanked whatever deity might be listening for that. And gripped him harder as she lost it again.

  At last, his own climax reared and built, his pace quickened as his release gathered. He slipped his hand between them to rest this thumb on her still swollen clit, each thrust now causing yet more of that delicious friction. And she knew he was doing this just for her, just to bring her along with him to one final, shattering, shared moment. They hit it, together. And flew.

  Chapter Seven

  Afterwards, they lay still, quiet, Rachel’s hands still tied behind her back.

  “Are you going to untie me?” She turned to snuggle against his ribs.

  His response was to loop his arm around her shoulders, drawing her in. He made no move to loosen the restraint.

  “Not done yet.” He deliberately injected a steeliness into his tone, subtle but usually effective in conveying authority, determination. Dominance. All would be required for what was to come next.

  “What? What do you mean? I thought we…”

  “We did. And it was fucking wonderful. Or wonderful fucking. You decide.”

  No hesitation. “Wonderful fucking.”

  “Good answer.” Using his legs to push himself up the bed he sat up, relaxed and content as he propped himself against the headboard. He drew Rachel up with him, her nipples now grazing his chest through the light covering still provided by the camisole. Idly Callum lifted the pink satin to reveal her right breast, his eyes heating as he admired the deep pink, hard little pebble at its tip. He took it between his finger and thumb, tugged gently, then more firmly. And squeezed.

  He’d telegraphed his intention and he was aware that Rachel braced herself. But she still let out a squeal of pain as he applied real pressure to the sensitive bud. He released the pressure, then did it again, though not as hard this time. She didn’t cry out, but her eyes were now tight shut in discomfort. He knew he wasn’t actually hurting her, what she was feeling was not quite pain, but clearly not quite pleasurable either.

  He kept up the pressure for a few seconds then released her. He bent his head to lick the tender spot, and Rachel purred. Actually purred. His balls tightened, her response was so—perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. Which brought him nicely to the next item on his agenda.

  “Now, I want you to lay your gorgeous body across my knees, and I’m going to spank your sweet little arse.” He reached down with his free hand to pat her buttock. “We need this to be a nice shade of pink, I think. Then, I just might fuck you all over again.”

  He could feel her startled gaze on his face but he didn’t lift his eyes from her engorged nipple, trailing his fingertips lightly over it as he waited for her to respond. To move. To protest. Whatever. He knew she’d do it. It was just a question of how long she’d take to work up to it, to overcome her mental hurdles, and give herself over to him.

  Not long at all as it turned out. Just a few seconds later, with a murmured, “Yes, alright,” she was shifting awkwardly into position. He could tell it wasn’t easy, her hands still bound, but she managed to place herself as he wanted her. And she lay still, waiting. Wordless.

  Callum caressed the firm flesh of her buttocks, admiring, enjoying. He slipped his fingers between her legs, which parted instinctively. Her submissive instincts were driving her now, totally, and he loved it. He intended to take very, very good care of her. Because in that moment he knew he never wanted her submitting to any other Dom. She was his, he’d discovered her, drawn out her innate nature, and he intended to develop and treasure that nature from now on. If she’d let him. He needed to get this right.

  Her body jerked under the first hard slap, on her right buttock. He waited a few seconds, then landed the next, on her left buttock this time. The next two landed on the backs of her thighs, first the right, then the left. Then he stopped to gently massage the throbbing skin.

  “Tell me when you’re ready for more.”

  A few seconds passed as he smoothed the hurt away, then, “More, please. I’m ready.”

  The next stroke was hard. Deliberately so. She cried out. He waited a few seconds, then delivered another, just as hard. He noticed her bound hands clenching and unclenching in the small of her back, and placed his own palm over them. Her fingers curled around his, and she calmed. He slapped her bottom twice more, each time drawing a whimper of pain from her and leaving vivid red hand prints on her flesh. He was aware she was close to her limit, sensed it. Two more firm, hard strokes and he knew this was enough. For now. He lifted her, carefully, gently, laid her face down beside him on the bed. His hands were tender, compassionate, as he once more smoothed the sting from her smarting skin. Then he lifted her hips, nudged her knees forward so she was crouching on all fours.

  This time when he entered her, he was slow, easy, infinitely patient as her now almost exhausted body stretched to accept his length again. She’d needed to be fucked, hard and fast and a little bit rough before. Now she needed exquisite handling. He was keenly aware that she needed him to be tender and kind, recognizing her inexperience, her delicacy, her mental, emotional and physical fragility. And Callum knew that how he treated her now, in these crucial moments, would set the tone for all their tomorrows. And he wanted so many tomorrows with Rachel.

  He deftly untied her wrists and drew her arms above her head. He laced his own fingers through hers as he continued to ease his shaft in and out of her pussy, slowly, as if he feared she might crumble under him if he moved suddenly. Her panting moans, her whispered “Please…” told him what he needed to do now. He slipped his hand under her to flick and stroke her clit.

  Her panting grew more rapid, more shallow—then her breath was released in one long keening moan and she came. She tightened around him, her body shivered under him, and he kissed the nape of her neck. She collapsed forward onto the bed, utterly spent. Two more quick thrusts, and he was there too, draped over her, his nose buried in her hair.

  He withdrew from her, disposed of the condom, then rolled up close to her again. He pulled her smooth back against his chest, tucked her still pink bottom into his groin where his softening cock could nestle close, and tightened his arms around her. Moments later, they were both asleep.

  Chapter Eight

  Rachel was ten minutes late picking up Jacob. She was contrite, apologetic. She was never late. Never. Except for those odd occasions when she spent the day being fucked senseless by a gorgeous gardener, fell asleep, and had only woken up an hour ago. She’d showered, which would have taken considerably less time if Callum hadn’t insisted on joining her, to ‘wash her back’. And the rest!

  But eventually she’d convinced him she simply had to go and pick up Jacob. He’d agreed to have a nice pot of tea ready for her when she got back. Any thought of rockeries or tax returns was abandoned for the day.

  Later, while Jacob giggled at the antics of Sponge Bob Square Pants in the living room, Callum treated Rachel to a preview of what she could expect the following day. Anticipation was so much a part of the fun, he explained, so perhaps she might like to give his plans some thought in advance. Some careful though
t.

  “I’m going to fuck your arse. It’ll he hard at first, tight, but you’ll love it. I promise. And I’m going to show you some tricks with this thing you’d never imagine…”

  He idly turned Rachel’s vibrating dildo over in his hands, studying it from all angles. “I’ll supply the nipple clamps.” Rachel instinctively clasped her arms across her breasts, which he seemed to find amusing. He shook his head to indicate she’d find little protection once he started. “And I think that sweet clit of yours needs something…special. I’m betting you don’t have any clit clips, Rachel?” She shook her head.

  He chuckled. “No? Every girl should have clit clips. I’ll get you some. And I’ll bring some lube too. Probably best.”

  * * * *

  The next morning Callum was already there when Rachel returned from the childminder’s. She was lecturing herself about playing it cool as she parked her car behind the battered black Transit. As she got out of her car and walked around the van she saw that it was empty and there was no sign of him in the garden. He must have let himself into the house. She was pleased at that. She’d agonized over whether or not to let him hang on to her spare key. Not because she didn’t want him to have it, but because she was worried about scaring him off. What if he felt she was crowding him, expecting…things. Expecting too much. A relationship, maybe. What if it was all just fun to him, and she was trying to make more of it. She needed to get a grip.

  Rachel was still full of good intentions as she opened her back door. Those intentions were scattered to the four winds as she was grabbed from behind, whirled around, kissed soundly, and lifted onto the solid pine kitchen table.

  She opened her mouth to ask what the hell was going on, or maybe just to say hello, but he was faster. A hand over her mouth silenced her, and she found herself gazing into deep blue, sensual eyes, inches from her own.

  “Don’t speak. Please. I don’t want to gag you—can’t kiss you if I do. And I so love kissing you, Rachel. But please, no talking. No questions. Just let me do what I want. Nod if you agree. Please.”