Bdsm Sex Stories

by Olga Menson

  All I could bring myself to do by way of answer was surge forward and kiss her. I was forceful, guiding her backwards to the bed, minding her step so she didn't fall down. When she reached the bed she sat down and I took her sweatshirt off, fast. She didn't resist, but she didn't help, enjoying the feeling of being stripped before being taken.

  I couldn't wait, and began to kiss and suck at her stiffened nipples. She wrapped her hand around my head and held me there, pulling me into her. She cried out as I pinched one between my lips, a little too hard in my eagerness, but there were no apologies. Instead, as I stopped to take my shirt off she undid my belt and button almost frantically. She pulled my jeans and boxers down swiftly and I stepped out of them.

  I pushed her to her back, firmly, pulling her tights off, hard. She wore no panties underneath, and the scent of her arousal greeted me. She smiled up at me, that adoring, simple smile. Not truly or solely sexual in nature, I finally understood it. It was giving. It was her offering everything she had or was to me. I found myself wanting to do the same.

  I moved towards her but as I did she turned over and got on her hands and knees. She loved this position, but it made her feel vulnerable. We'd talked about it when we were younger. I was almost too eager to be restrained, but I entered her carefully. I never truly wanted to hurt her.

  "Oh...oh fuck...yes. Go a little slower. It's fine, just different from this angle...god I missed this. I never told you, but you've been the only man I've ever been completely comfortable with in this position. Even my ex...we did it, but I couldn't completely enjoy it, you know? You, though. I want to be open and vulnerable to you. Oh...oh fuck."

  I grunted, feeling Kerry's tight passage hold me, grip me. She looked back over her shoulder at me, a little discomforted, so I waited, knowing that her body would adapt to being so full. She smiled at me, understanding my restraint

  "No one's ever been as good a fuck as you, Kerry. Maybe its crude for me to say, but its true."

  "It...its not crude, baby. James...oh fuck...I'm ok now. Fuck me baby. Please. Hard. I need...I need to be taken by you. Show me I'm yours, please. I don't want anything between us any more. Oh...yes...oh god....like that baby..."

  I started fucking her before she was done speaking. I was so worked up that my balls hurt and my cock ached. It hadn't even truly been that long but I needed her. I knew already that I'd need to get off again tonight, just from being close to her. I wanted to be slower at first, I really did, but she responded so well to me, pushing back and gripping me as I pulled out. Whimpering every time I left and exhaling, then moaning as I came back. I naturally started fucking her harder, increasing the intensity as I went.

  "Oh, fuck. Fuck me, baby," Kerry said, looking over her shoulder with a wicked, provoking, grin, "Fuck your sister-bride..."

  I lost it at those words. Deep down, I found what we were to be forbidden, and she knew it. She knew it and she wanted to be both my blushing bride and my forbidden fruit. I fucked her with such intensity that her moans and cries echoed through the house, the slapping of our flesh impacting each other was nearly as loud.

  I held her hips, first gently but now almost harshly. I was close and I wanted to bury my cock deep within Kerry, deep within my sister, I wanted to fill her completely with my cum. I wasn't even thinking of her pleasure, I was taking her, driving myself inside her. Claiming her like she was my property.

  "Kerry...I'm going to..."

  I tried to warn her, I even wanted to slow down a little, make it last longer. But that wasn't what Kerry wanted. She wanted what was happening, wanted to please me. She wanted to show her devotion, how she could give of herself.

  "Cum, baby. Cum inside me. Its what I want. Its what I'll always want."

  I came, a seemingly endless stream of my seed filling her, spurting over and over. My swelling must have triggered her as well, because she was calling out my name as I said hers, her body shaking and tense. She was seized by two beasts at that moment. One was her orgasm, riding her, gripping her tightly, making her helpless. The second was me, still hard, still pounding into her, my balls nearly empty but not stopping. Her head dropped between her hands, ass up in the air, unable to take any more. I finished with a grunt, spent, my cock still twitching for my lover.

  I pulled out of her and she sighed, rolling over and looking up at me. There were tears in her eyes and I couldn't tell why.

  "Did I hurt you?" I asked.

  "No, baby. No...I'm just happy. I feel...I know its silly...but I feel like we just got married. Like this was our real consummation."

  "That's not silly. That's...beautiful."

  I moved away from her for a moment, going to get a towel for us to clean up, but her arm shot up at me, almost desperately reaching for me to come back. Instead of leaving I climbed into bed with her, spooning her the way that I used to. I pulled the sheet around us, protectively. Kerry cuddled up to me, pulling my arm around her, between her breasts, pressing her whole body into mine.

  "Mmm...god...that was...nice..."

  We were asleep, within minutes, sated and happy. Later we would wake up and make late dinner together, unable to keep our hands off of one another, and fuck on the couch, almost as a tribute to the old days. We understood, however, that things were different.

  Kerry and I slept over at each other's houses throughout November, neither of our mothers complaining. To Kerry's chagrin I went home after that, to make plans and begin to pack up my things. I was gone for three weeks and it felt like months. Always the go-getter, Kerry found us a house. Perfect for two but more than enough for a small family, if that should ever happen. I returned and we spent Christmas together, just me, Mom, Judith, and Kerry, a happy if un-conventional family. Our move in date was in early January. I made several trips back and forth from the city, both for work and to facilitate the move. Kerry's own job allowed her to work from anywhere, really, but there were meetings that she absolutely had to attend, all over the world.

  I'm not going to lie to you, things weren't always easy, especially not at first. Kerry and I had always fought, now and then, as friends and indeed siblings do, but we did it healthily. And now we always made love afterwards. We learned to trust and be transparent with each other, keeping no secrets. If one of us felt a little insecure because they had been apart from the other, we'd talk about it, and explain why.

  Gradually, we adjusted to the wonder of waking up together, and found a new harmony. Neither of us was the same, but we were what the other wanted and needed, and it was enough. Kerry supported me in my depression, and I kept her insecurities at bay. We balanced and complemented one another, and it just worked.

  We weren't always happy, but we were most certainly in love and full of hope. What more could anyone ask for?

  * * *

  Yet To Be - A Good Party

  * * *

  15 Years Later

  Much to our mothers' chagrin, Kerry and I eloped to the Caribbean less than a year after getting back together. To their pleasant surprise, we invited them to accompany us and have their own vacation as we took our honeymoon. We wanted it to be special but neither of us wanted to make a big deal out of it. Besides that Kerry just couldn't stop laughing when I brought up her wearing another white dress. It was a little too ridiculous in its implications.

  We got married by the beach. She was incredible in the short skirt she wore with the off-shoulder tropical blouse, and she liked how I appeared in my well-fitted linen pants and tailored short-sleeve shirt. We were casual, but we looked good. And there's nothing like taking your vows with the tropical ocean as your witness. After that, the rest of our lives began.

  Kerry and I both wanted children, but we didn't want to take any risks with a child's health, nor did we want to have to explain any inconvenient DNA tests that they might have in the future. So we decided to adopt. It took over a year, but in the end we were blessed with two of the kindest, smartest, and most wonderful children you could hope for.

 
There would be no doubt to any outside observer that our fourteen year-old daughter, Zara, and our twelve year-old son, Adam, were not naturally ours. They just looked too different. But we had resolved never to lie to them, so they knew that they had a biological mother who had passed suddenly when they were three and one, respectively, and that we had adopted them. We loved them as if they were our own, and both of their grandmothers spoiled them to an almost-obscene degree.

  Tonight they were both up a little later than usual. We were hosting our yearly halloween party. It featured games and activities for the children and a place where the adults could go and drink and hang out in a relaxed atmosphere. You could wear a costume, but it wasn't required.

  Things were finally quieting down. Most of the kids had gone home except for a few that were sleeping over. Kerry and I were hanging out in the kitchen with Amanda and her girlfriend, as well as Judith and her husband (they'd been together for five years by then). Our daughter and her friends were there too, enjoying the banter and for the first time being considered "old enough" to be there. Amanda, being one of Kerry's oldest friends, was telling a series of borderline-inappropriate stories about Kerry. I'd dodged any spotlight, so far.

  "Why do you have all these stories about mom but not dad?" Zara finally asked. Uh oh.

  Amanda smiled as though she had been waiting for this moment.

  "Oh, there are stories about your dad, but a lot of them are R-rated or worse."

  I raised my eyebrows at that.

  "That's just untrue. I was a good kid. Relatively speaking."

  "Oh really? So you're saying you weren't a player?"

  "I mean, I dated, but..."

  "No, I dated. You got around like the village bicycle."

  I was going to protest, but then I did some mental math. It turns out that before I'd seriously started seeing Kerry, I had, um, seen quite a few girls even if I hadn't had sex with many of them. Kerry was barely smothering laughter as our daughter looked at me, scandalized.

  "I thought that you and mom were together in high school?" she asked, "Oh my god, did you cheat on her?"

  Amanda, to my surprise, saved me.

  "No. Your father may have had a lot of, um, 'limited engagements' with girls but he never cheated. Especially not on his Best Friend Forever, Kerry."

  "Oh god," Kerry said.

  "What does that mean?" Zara asked, innocently enough.

  "It means, that your father and your mother were best friends and incredibly close and that everyone but them knew that they'd end up together. We were all shocked that they went to different colleges but none of us were when they got back together even if it did take them a long time. Oh my god, I have the best story about this..."

  "Amanda...Zara is fourteen," Kerry warned. Judith laughed, probably thinking about what Kerry was like when she was that age.Too smart and not all that innocent.

  "Don't worry, I'm not going to shock anyone. This is a romantic story. Your mom used to play soccer, and one day she was at practice, and your dad was there, waiting to drive her home. So he was sprawled out on the bleachers like Adonis or some shit, posed so his muscles would have maximum impact through his tight jeans and t-shirt. And your dad had this kind of moody emo boy thing going, too. He was reading Nietzsche or something."

  "It was Marcus Aurelius," I corrected.

  "Oh my god, shut up you nerd. What I'm saying is that you may not believe it but your dad was like the hot smart loner, ok? He stood up to bullies and read poetry and just kind of looked gorgeous."

  "I was neither posing nor gorgeous," I objected.

  Kerry scoffed.

  "I almost asked you to wait for me by the car," Kerry said, "Don't you remember that poor freshmen back-fielder, Becky? She was watching you so intently that she let me score on her."

  I didn't see how I could be blamed for that.

  "Anyway," Amanda said, taking back the floor, "Your mom gets hit in a slide tackle, and she goes down hard on her ankle the wrong way. We all saw it. It took her out for like three games. She barely got to the sidelines. So we were all understandably worried about getting her home. I offer to like, support her, like a crutch, because its like a quarter-mile to the parking lot. But your dad wasn't having any of that. He just comes ambling over, hair blowing in the wind and says, 'I'll carry her. She's the size of a baby mouse.' Now we all thought that he was just being a dumb guy, posturing for a bunch of women. But he just grabs both their book bags, and then scoops your mom up. I swear to god it was like he was Tuxedo Mask and she was Sailor Moon. That might be too old for you to get but its what I thought of at the time. He carried her all the way to the car, no stops or trouble. And your mom was smiling so wide and blushing so much it was amazing. Every girl there wanted to go out with your dad right that moment."

  Ok so this story wasn't so bad after all, I reached out and held Kerry's hand. But Amanda wasn't finished. She always had to drop the mic.

  "Coincidentally that's when your mom and dad started 'secretly' dating. Well it was supposed to be a secret but the whole damn school knew. I wonder what happened that night?"

  Amanda said the last sentence with a degree of sarcasm. Kerry probably had discussed it with her at one time or another. Fortunately Zara seemed to be focussed on the idea that her parents at one time had been romantic rather than dull and middle-aged. But, of all people, Karen's mom wouldn't leave well enough alone.

  "Hmm," Judith said, "I seem to recall I was out that night and left both of you alone together. You didn't get up to any mischief, did you?"

  Kerry, my beloved wife, just turned beet-red and looked away. Honestly I still find her almost unbearably adorable when she does that.

  "We were both eighteen and I have no further comment at this time," was all I said, before finishing my beer with a smug smile. There were objections from the table and some demands for details, but no one but us needed to remember that night. It was far more special than anyone but myself and Kerry knew.

  "Time for bed," Kerry said in her best mom-voice. It was well past one am but that was kind of a dirty trick. Zara hugged her mom and kissed me on my cheek on the way out. Adam was already in the basement with his friends, probably playing video games. Zara had some friends over too, so we had a full house, but we didn't mind.

  We'd made a home here, created a family, and we were a part of the community. I was no longer religious but I was active in a lot of the same charities that my mom was. Kerry volunteered in the same youth-mentoring program that our father had been a part of. Zara played soccer, which pleased my wife to no end and Adam shared my passion for reading and writing.

  And really, it all went back to that night when Kerry twisted her ankle. To secrets and lies told out of love. To family.

  * *

  The party had wound down as the best ones did. A little earlier than when we were all younger, perhaps, but everyone had a good time. We escorted people to the door in the slow way you do when you are ready for it to be over but enjoy the company of your guests and are in no rush to get rid of anyone.

  Adam and his friends had the basement that night. Zara and her friends had the living room. They'd all be up far too late but wouldn't really misbehave aside from maybe some spirit-boards and spooky stories. We'd be here if they needed us but otherwise they got their space for the evening. They were good kids, and Kerry and I both knew that we were fortunate.

  I'd just finished getting dressed for bed when Kerry came back from the shower, wrapped in a towel. God, she was still as beautiful as she had been when she was eighteen.

  "Thanks for being doing all this," she said, kissing me casually as she walked past.

  "Doing all this?"

  "You know, with the party and all. It's something I love to do and every year I ask you to take a lot on to make it happen."

  "You may not realize this but we're married. I kind of love you and love doing things for you."

  "Ha ha. You know what I mean. Work had me so busy this year I didn't
realize how much of the planning and prep I'd put on you until people started showing up."

  "I know, but I love the party too. I love seeing everyone and it makes the kids happy. And I'm the layabout writer while you bring home the big money on a tight schedule, so it makes sense that I'd do more."

  My earnings were approaching Kerry's for the first time ever, but she never pressured me to match her salary. When we got married she insisted that I quit writing textbooks and started writing fiction, which was my real love. She made more than enough to support our modest lifestyle as well as the family we planned on having. She just asked me to be flexible and help her when she had to work long hours. I think other people worried that being the stay-at-home dad would mess with my ego, but honestly we were partners and hyper-masculine bullshit didn't enter into it.

  We did everything like we had before, together and in harmony, from planning this party to raising our kids. And we never, ever took each other for granted. I understood that this was why Kerry was thanking me. She didn't do it because she had to, or because I would be upset if she didn't, but because she wanted me to know that she saw what I did, and she appreciated it.

  I watched my beautiful wife as she dropped the towel and dressed in the simple t-shirt that she slept in. She yawned and stretched and caught me watching as her shirt stretched around her perfect, pert breasts. She smirked at me.

  "How tired are you?" I asked, turning off the light and getting into bed.

  "Never too tired for that," she said, "but we'll have to be really quiet."

  "Just like when we were 'studying' in my room all those times?"

  I could hear Kerry's breath pick up a little bit. We still excited each other, and our shared past just seemed to amplify our chemistry.

  "Yeah. Like that. But I'll be on top this time. Cover my mouth if you have to."

  As Kerry, my best friend, my half-sister, my greatest love, and my wife, straddled me, I thought again back to the days long ago when everything nearly fell apart but came together instead. When the truth hurt us but then set us free.