by Alina Sawyer
Not that you could tell from her recent experience. She and her husband were locked in a sexless marriage. Although their love was secure and strong, their physical needs had become quite different. Increasingly, her waking idle moments were spent daydreaming about fucking and being fucked. Her fantasy partners, men and women, younger and older, stronger and weaker would all do the things that her body needed. If only...
Recently, her fantasies focused on a man almost two decades her senior. Their first conversation had been businesslike. Brusque, perhaps. But he had a physical and intellectual presence that suggested a fire within. And, for just a moment, she had sensed that his glance was frankly appraising. She wondered about the thoughts filling his glistening head, and found herself wondering whether his cock and balls were similarly smooth, slick and full...
Catching herself, she willed her thoughts back to more pedestrian topics. Her clit continued to throb, however, and the next time she pleasured herself she thought about his mouth and tongue. What the hell, she thought, I'll send him a note and see what happens...
His replies were surprising, even stunning for their shameless eroticism. His words caressed her, stroked her, and her pussy became wetter with each re-reading. Was it just talk? Was he just another older guy whose thoughts outstripped anything his body could do? Or was there really raw sexual power there? He said he was religious about going to the gym, and she imagined his chest rippling as he pumped the iron up and down, and her thoughts drifted towards sliding up and down on his juice-coated cock...
He agreed to meet her for a drink...in public, just to have a chat with her away from the workplace's prying eyes. Okay she thought, let's keep it proper, this is just a get-to-know-you drink. She chose a brown bra, matching boy-cut panties, and a simple knit dress. A silver necklace drew attention to her ample cleavage. Heels, of course, enough to shape her calf, but not the fuck-me pumps that she yearned to wear for him...
He ordered wine. A Sancerre, with flavors that filled her mouth with lightness and burst with different flavors on different parts of her tongue. All the while, he looked straight at her. Through her. Inside her. She sipped at her Sancerre and smiled at him knowing it was the last thing that was even semi-dry on her side of the table. While they nibbled on crudite (did this man ever pig out?) she squirmed slightly, and felt an exhilarating squish as her pussy was now drenched with desire. Her musky scent wafted up from the table. He sniffed the air, and a smile began to play at the corner of his lips.
Now he knew she was wet with passion, but she did not know if he was similarly turned on. She over-analyzed his every word, his every move, looking for a sign that he would actually do the things he described in his notes to her. Did he really want to subjugate her body? Would he tame her pussy and train her until she obeyed him, and only him, completely? Or, when he found out about her many sexual exploits, would he push her away in disgust?
As she sat listening to his opinion on the politics at his office, she imagined how deep his cock would explore her re-virginated pussy. She wanted to dispense with the formalities of small talk, but she did not want to insult him. She acted as if she was listening intently, but in reality, she was planning their first fuck. She couldn't decide if she should be gentle or rough. Would he force her head onto his cock or would he dive into her pussy first to taste the wet lips that he smelled.
She decided to follow his lead because he made it clear from his eyes who was in charge. His seeming indifference to her growing arousal only inflamed her more. It was time to see what he was made of. She retired to the ladies' room to freshen up...
She returned, seating herself quietly, demurely crossing her legs. Now or never, she thought. She reached under the table, took his hand, and passed him a mound of soft, moist fabric.
"My panties," she mouthed, "too wet to wear".
He slipped them into his jacket pocket. He withdrew his hand inhaled deeply of her scent and let his fingertips lightly brush his tongue. His cock, already firm, grew rigid with the thought of the hot lava now pouring out of her sex. His pupils dilated with hers.
From the pocket of his tailored sport coat, he drew a card-key bearing the name of a nearby hotel. He slid it across the table. He called for the check, paid the bill and got up to leave.
"Suite 401, ten minutes," he murmured.
Her eyes followed his road shoulders and tight ass as he walked away. Collecting the check and clearing the dishes, the waiter wondered aloud why the man had left this drop-dead gorgeous woman unattended. Snapping out of her reverie, she stared at the waiter, wondering the same thing. Then she realized that the man had paid the cost of a room based on his belief that a simple drink would entitle him to temporary ownership of her pussy. Presumptuous, surely. Prescient, more than she cared to admit. Now thoroughly distracted by hot juice running down her naked cunt onto her thigh, she gulped the rest of the wine and hurried out to the hotel.
When she arrived at the door to Suite 401, she almost knocked. Then she realized that the passage of the card-key was an implicit instruction to enter the room. She slid the key into the reader, saw the LED turn green, turned the knob and entered the room. ...
He was seated at the desk, his fingers flying over a laptop. She imagined them tweaking her nipples. His jacket lay over the back of another chair, and for the first time she saw his silhouette. His shoulders were broader than she expected, his waist narrower. Reflexively, she reached for his jacket, smoothing it with her fingers, and hung it in the hall closet. As she closed the door, she realized that she had instinctively followed another implicit instruction. Coincidence?
"Well done," he said.
From that moment on she understood that her pleasure lay entirely in his hands. She would do whatever he asked of her, confident that he would see to her needs.
"Please, have a seat."
It was half-invitation, half-suggestion and all command. He occupied the room's only chair. She sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at the back of his scalp, again wondering whether his cock and balls were equally smooth and strong, and how long she would wait to find out.
"Why did you come to my room?"
The question was simple enough. But her mouth went as dry as her pussy was drenched. She answered simply, truthfully.
"I need you to fuck me."
He turned to face her. Her red-brown hair framed an alabaster face. Her lips were the color of blood, her teeth shining white. But it was her eyes that captivated, eyes that begged, pleaded for attention. Her need was real, honest, and beginning to consume her. She needed to be pleasured.
She had fixed on his chest where he had unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Curly grey hair curved over strong chest muscles, faintly visible through the translucent fabric. She could see his forearms were thick, powerful and ended in strong expressive hands. She wondered about his cock...
"You're overdressed."
She snapped out of her reverie and shimmied out of her dress. She felt vaguely awkward and crossed her legs to conceal her hairless pussy. He glanced at her breasts, still contained within the bra that she had so carefully selected. She looked at him, questioningly. He nodded, ever so slightly. She reached behind, undid the clasp, and her breasts swayed to freedom.
Good, he thought to himself, she takes instruction well. She will make an excellent mistress when properly trained. But first she must be trained in her own pleasure before she can learn how to properly minister to the needs of others.
"You will do as I ask, without question. Your alternative is to leave. I will not harm you, I will not hurt you. I will fuck you, but when I decide that it is time for you to be fucked. Do you understand?"
She nodded wordlessly.
"Lean back on the bed, slide a pillow under your hips, and show me your pussy."
She scooted back on the bed and began to remove her left shoe.
"Did I tell you to remove your shoes?"
She stopped and slid the shoe back on. There was no question who was in c
ommand.
He kissed her gently on her lips and her neck, and let his finger glide gently across the ample mounds of her breast. But he neither paused nor lingered there. She felt his breath on the inside of her thighs. He inhaled deeply.
"You will wear perfumes only when I allow it. You will not cover or disguise the scent of your cunt juice, ever. Do you understand?"
She nodded.
"You do not understand. You think you understand, but you do not. Flavor is the combination of taste and smell. And your cunt has a naturally delicious flavor. I do not like artificial flavorings. Your juice is best savored naturally, or else mixed with my cum."
He extended his tongue to its maximum length, placed the tip just next to her anus and, in a single long and languorous stroke, drew it up into the pinky slit between her inner labia and strongly across her now-throbbing clit.
She shivered with excitement.
"Do you like it? Do you like the flavor of my cunt?"
He responded with two more long licks, sucking gently on her clit as he finished. She groaned with pleasure, thrusting her hips into his face. She was ready, he mused, a much more apt pupil than he had encountered in many years.
"It's time for you to meet your training partner. Let me introduce you to ... Master Sybian."
Her eyes followed his to the far side of the bed.
"Oh my god, what is that thing," her eyes widening and her body wincing back. "I've never seen anything like that." She glanced at the saddle with a cock pointing skyward. "You're kidding..."
"In these matters, I do not kid, joke or jest." His voice took on an oddly even tone. "Sit by me as set it up for you."
She crawled toward the end of the bed and laid on her belly, heels in the air, wondering what she got herself into. Nut case? Professional cheater? What kind of man keeps a plug-in fucking machine in his car just in case they need it? She glanced at his efficient yet unhurried motion as he lubricated the dildo for her comfort. He might be crazy...or he might be exactly what she needed now—a man thoroughly erotic, confident, and unafraid. She felt her pussy tingling, imagining, and anticipating what would happen next. Her mind, still fearful of the unknown, never conceived that her afternoon would unfold this way.
"You can leave if you wish. But you cannot hide. I brought Master Syb for you, to teach you. Only when you experience your own limitless pleasure can you give the same to others. Are you ready to learn?"
Her gaze now riveted on the cock-saddle, she demurely slid off the bed and stood in front of him, naked except for her shoes.
She queries her teacher, "What do I do?"
"Squat. Slide the dildo into your pussy and kneel so that your clit slides down onto the nubbins."
Easy enough, she thought. The dildo was smaller than many she had seen, and smaller than the rabbit vibrator she had worn out last year. She did as instructed, and found herself facing her teacher, who held a control box in his hands.
He flipped switches, and she felt a gentle vibration in her clit. She leaned forward to pleasure herself more. She allowed her body to fall into sync with the rhythm and let the tension in her pelvis begin to build. He twirled a different dial, and she felt the dildo sweep circles inside her pussy, thrilling her G-spot with every turn.
"Mmmm. That's nic...". His hands flew over the dials and the vibrations, so gentle at first, became stronger and deeper. "Ohhhh".
She could feel her orgasm coming, and as it approached, she felt the rotation inside her pussy go faster, her G-spot being tweaked every second or so. Her pelvis began to vibrate, her orgasm just beginning to crest.
He could see her skin begin to flush, her breaths now in short gasps. Her knees fluttered against his. He decided to double the vibrations and rotations as she climaxed.
"OHHHHHHMIGODDDDDDDD."
Her orgasm lasted 40 seconds or so as she grabbed his shoulder while rocking forwards and backwards on the machine. A sheen appeared on her face and neck and breasts, her eyes pleading to stop the stimulation so she could catch her breath. He massaged the small of her back, squeezing every bit of her orgasm out.
He stopped the vibration, and turned the rotation down to a low, gentle level.
He held her close, whispering gently in her ear.
"Deep breaths," he said. "Let the pleasure wash over you and take deep even breaths."
Her heart and lungs settled down as sweat dripped off of her onto his shirt. He either did not notice or did not care. Slowly, perhaps 90 seconds later, she sat up, saying "That was wonderf...".
He smiled at her, twisted the dials, and her eyes grew wide. Her pussy felt like it was being pounded by the strongest lover she could imagine, and she crashed into a massive second orgasm almost instantaneously. This time her entire torso was shaking with pleasure, and she lasted almost sixty seconds.
"Pppleaaase, eeennough...."
He turned the dials down and she fell forward into his waiting arms. Her heart was racing, and she gulped down air as if to cool herself.
"Deep breaths," he repeated. "Savor the feeling."
She nodded. Her clit was throbbing and her pussy was now fully swollen with pleasure. Her juices were running down the sides of the saddle. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal. She did not want to let go of him, the master of her pleasure. But he returned her upright.
Her eyes spoke volumes. She did not know whether she could stand another round on this machine, this instrument of her pleasure. She wanted it, and she did not. She could not decide.
Of course, the decision was not hers to make. He smiled at her again and twisted both dials to 80 percent power. She orgasmed instantly as the machine seemed to seize her from the inside, pulling her belly, chest, breasts, throat and brain down into her pussy, shaking them into a dance of ecstasy. He watched her entire body begin to vibrate, and she began to make sounds, animal sounds of orgiastic delight. After about 90 seconds, he saw her begin to faint away from the pleasure, dialed the machine off, and caught her, gently pulling her off the machine and onto the bed. She curled up, fetus-like, and drifted off...
She did not know if it had been five seconds, five minutes or a half-hour. When she awoke she felt his tongue, now cool as a spring rain, lapping at her still-swollen cunt. Her thoughts were jumbled and unformed. Past and future had become blurred, and there was only here, and only now. She wanted one thing, and one thing only now. She wanted his cock, and she wanted it in every orifice of her body. She wanted to be filled with pleasure so she could share pleasure. It was no longer "just sex", it was something different, something divine....
He paused to roll a condom onto the swollen purple head and down the stiff shaft of his cock. Smiling, he knelt briefly as if to worship once more at her pussy, mixing her hot juice with his saliva. He pressed his cock against her labia, popped in and slid inside. She felt pleasantly stretched, then full, and felt the tip of his cock against her womb. She felt the ridge of his cockhead slip back against her G-spot and sighed deeply.
"You like that spot, don't you?"
Her affirmation was more of a moan than a word. He hoisted her legs over his shoulders, pulled a pillow behind her so that her G-spot was directly in line with his cock and began to thrust with short, shallow strokes. Her breathing became shallow and her skin flushed scarlet. He knew she was close. He thrust once more until she was fully impaled, grinding his pelvis against her clit.
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
She came hard and fast, her hips bucking into him, torn between wanting him to slide in and out or just stay deep. He felt the spasms of her pelvis rolling over his cock, gripping it, kneading and needy all at once. He let her legs down, supporting her thighs with a gentleness that fed the afterglow of her orgasm. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes and grinned.
"My turn!"
With surprising strength, she pushed him over and straddled his still-hard cock. She rode him playfully, sliding up and down while her teasing breasts swayed back and forth, just out of reach of his eager mouth a
nd flickering tongue. She savored the illusion of power and control, gently twisting his nipples and reaching behind to massage his balls. She stared into his eyes and saw her own pleasure reflected back.
"I want you to cum in my mouth."
She dismounted and pulled off his condom. Slowly, searchingly, she ran her lips and tongue around his cockhead, watching for his response. He smiled and sighed, easing her mouth down the long shaft until his cock had slid down her throat. She felt the entire length with her tongue, enjoying the textures and flavors of precum, pussy juice and saliva. She always loved sucking cock, watching men writhe with pleasure as her hands, tongue and mouth worked their magic. But this was different still. It was as if she could feel him surrendering himself to her, trusting her. It was not simply watching. Her body seemed energized with his growing excitement, and the energy grew stronger as she licked him and stroked the shaft and nibbled at the slit of his cocktip.
It was time. His groans became deeper and she saw his neck, and then his chest and then his belly grow tense with anticipation. She felt his thighs harden and took his cock deeply into her mouth. His balls hardened as the jets of sticky savory cum flowed into her mouth and down her throat. He screamed with delight as she continued to suck him dry, enjoying the last few drops...
He reached down, pulled her toward him, and their mouths melded, luxuriating in the taste of sex. She put her head in his chest, looked up at him, and, sighing once more, closed her eyes to dream...
When she awakened, it was dark. She saw him, still nude, at the laptop. He heard her stir.
"What are you doing?"
He turned to face her once more, smiling enigmatically.
"Have you forgotten the rules? You are here because you chose to be here. What I do is not your concern."
She was momentarily shocked out of her bliss. Seeing her naked and vulnerable, he spoke soothingly, suggesting that she freshen up and dress. She complied without speaking, and returned to sit on the edge of the bed, where the evening had begun. He turned to face her one more time, handing her a small black bag as he spoke.