eve

This was the best part — the first session. Mark was a 30 something once upon a time hockey guy with a love for satin and lace. I wore a green velvet wrap dress and patent leather heels. He had picked the dress out one our first outing. It hugged my tits and offered way too much cleavage when I was seated. I rather enjoyed the once over and grins from the concierge and bellboy as I checked in. The shoes were from my collection. You know the ones, with the ankle clasps and little heart-shaped locks — a subtle nod to the kinkster in all of us.

The clicking of the stilettos drew the notice of a couple waiting near the front doors. The three white-haired suits, previously deep in conversation, looked up in unison. One was ballsy enough to tip his glass to me. I smiled broadly and winked, never breaking stride – the elevator opened with perfect timing. I vanished through the looking glass as the mirrored doors closed. A swipe of the room key accesses the concierge floor, a pleasant surprise from Mark. 

A bowl of white flowers was luminescent in the late afternoon sun. I repositioned them and laid my case on the table. I pulled my worn jeans and white tank top from my oversized bag and hung them on the bathroom hook. A girl needs to be comfortable when she is educating a sissy boy.

I went about setting things up. A plain t-shirt, a collar with a pink ribbon as a leash on the bed, and a silicone cock ring. A subtle but effective start in setting the mood. That would be after he set up my case and showed appropriate gratitude for my presence. An enema bulb and baby wipes in the bathroom. A long blond wig, a pretty dress with ruffles and bows, and a pair of white ruffled panties were hanging in the closet. He would earn those.

The view from this height was outstanding, yet as I skated my fingertips across the glass, I envisioned his hard cock arching as I pegged him spread eagle against it. The thrill of his naked body pressed against the unyielding coldness, the humiliation of his nakedness on display for the end of day commuters, gave me such a rush. I retrieved my crop from the case, leaving it open for him to unpack as instructed.

My phone buzzed. He was texting from the parking garage. 

I texted, “the door will be open. I am going for ice. Come in, undress, your collar is on the bed, put it on. Kneel, facing the window, and wait for me.” 

I grabbed the ice bucket and room key and trotted down the hall. I took my time returning to the room about ten minutes later. Mark was on his knees, his clothes neatly folded on the dresser. He was holding the ribbon leash in his hand. 

“Give” I commanded. His hand came above his head until I possessed the ribbon. “What a good sissy, you listened so well.” I stroked his hair and moved in front of him, making sure my skirt brushed his naked arm. The velvet was dragging against his skin, awaking his sense of touch.

“Rise” He did as instructed and forgot himself meeting my eye for a moment. My raised eyebrows were enough for him to flush and blurt out, “Sorry, Mistress,” and he lowered his eyes. 

“That’s three hairbrush smacks, keep count for later.” I traced down his side and under his balls, ensuring my cleavage was in his eye-line. I stroked his semi-erect cock watching it grow with every stroke of the soft leather. 

“How sad you are, men are the weaker sex. Your cock is delicate and unprotected, and your sex organs are like accessories. Do you wish you could hide your weakness?”

“Yes, mistress,” he blushed and went to cover his hard cock. 

I stepped closer to caress his head, “good sissy,” pressing my velvet wrapped tits against his bare waxed chest. “Are you ready to begin?

“Yes, Mistress,” Mark blushed and smiled.

“What are your safety words, Sissy?”

“Hamilton for stop, no more. Evita for a check-in.”

“Good sissy. I had given you a few tasks, time for an inspection. Pull out the chair and stand on it.” I sat on the couch, watched, and waited. I took a nail file from my bag, inspected my nails, and ignored him. I drank my water and sucked on a piece of ice, taunting him, allowing my skirt to stay hiked up as I maneuver to dig aimlessly in my bag. I began his inspection. He adjusted his stance. 

“Is my little slut getting tired?” I lifted his balls to ensure they were hair-free, I cupped and caresses, his cock began to twitch.

“Almost,” I pulled a stray hair, and he fought the yelp. “Three for the hair, five for whimpering. Women wax without a word. How many is that?” 

I stepped back and held my hand to help him down. He hopped down without a word.

“Oh, no! No manners, that’s five with my hand. You are going to have a very pink ass. On your knees, get the brush from my bag, carry it in your mouth to the couch. Place the pink vibrator and lube on the window ledge, let’s put the ball gag over there too. The crop, flogger, and paddle on the end of the bed.” I held his lead. Encouraging him to move quickly, ensuring he was thrown off, mocking the mistakes. Every so often tapping his ass with or balls with the crop. He was completely erect. 

“You fucking little pansy. You should be ashamed of yourself, a sad little man, not worthy to touch my belongings. Just touching them excites you. Tuck your shame between your legs. I don’t want to see it.”

He dropped his head and kissed my shoe. He held the position waiting for further instruction. I didn’t move my foot. “Don’t stop.” He kissed and licked my shoe. Nuzzling his head gingerly against my calf. “Good sissy, now over to the couch to take your punishment.” I went to the closest and brought out the panties. “I think you should wear these while you take your punishment before you clean out your ass, and I take you against the window.”

His face turned crimson, and his breath drew hard. He was surprised. Every detail of our conversations was creating this session. As promised, the pain was subtle. What he had not expected was how his humiliation promoted his submission and complacency. The bikini briefs were satin and soft, increasing his sense of arousal. His cock pushing over the top. He struggled to tuck it, but it was so hard all he could do was push is to the side. He fumbled to hide his excitement. I would not acknowledge his effort. I wanted him to own his shame. He knelt next to me, waiting for instructions. I pointed to the table.

“Pass me the brush.”

He extended his reach as he placed himself across my velvet lap. As I slide my hand under the edge of his panties to pull them down, his cock pressed into my thigh, weeping onto the fabric. I could feel his humiliation as I brought his panties down and exposed his bare bottom. Rubbing his lily-white ass, letting my nails brush his balls until he whimpered. 

“How many?”

“Eleven with the brush and five with your hand, Mistress.”

“And how many for soiling my dress?”

“But I,” without thinking, he kneeled up. He instantly realized he had not been given permission to move. His mouth was on my shoe again. 

“You’re learning, but soiling my dress, your dirty little piss ant. Velvet, do you know how to clean velvet?” Before he could speak, I cut him off. “If you can’t answer, I will discipline your stupidity. Five more! Now, you are wasting my time. Tuck the cock and get across my knee. Count for me.”

I rubbed his ass, letting my fingers hesitate on his asshole, pressing and rotating my finger until an involuntary moan. “That’s it slut show me your weakness.” With my hand, I slapped his ass in quick succession, each smack harder than the one before. He whimpered a little. I cooed his name and rubbed the pinked ass cheek. Without prompting, he checked his cock, was tucked, and reached for the hairbrush and put it in my open hand. 

“Why am I spanking you?

“Because I’m a slutty sissy who keeps messing up…Mistress.”

He counted each smack. His ass was red, and he was silent. 

I checked in, “need to talk to about Musicals?”

“No Mistress,” he fumbled the panties back up, he was flustered and attempted to cover up. His humiliation was palpable, he knelt at my side, fingering the fabric of my dress.

“You did well, my little sissy, now we can start. Into the bathroom and bend over.” 

“How do you want me?” he asked. I removed the collar and place it on the counter.

“Turn on the water and pass me the showerhead.” I retrieved a pair of rubber gloves and opened a bar of soap. “Remove your panties, I’m going to wash your ass.”

Mark got in the tub. “Lean forward and spread your cheeks.” He looked back towards me but did not speak. I soaped his ass and used the showerhead. The humiliation and stimulation engorged his cock. “That will do, dry off, and wait here for me.” He stood in the tub, drying off. I retrieved the lube from the windowsill. The sun was setting. A dusk pegging would have to be next time. Nighttime would have to do. I flicked on a light and returned to the bathroom. 

“Are you ready?” he nodded and went to kneel again. I stopped him. I filled the bulb with warm water and a drop of shower gel. I lubed the top of the oversized bulb. “Spread your checks.” He did as he was told. As I inserted the bulb, he drew breath. “I washed you and now I am cleaning out your pathetic ass, and you don’t thank me. Ingratitude is an insult. Ten more smacks with the brush.” My voice was the sternest it had been all session. I left the bulb in his ass. “Hold that there.” I removed my panties, balled them up and stuck them in his mouth.

I emptied the contents of the bulb into his ass and waited. He was fully erect with a mouth full of worn panties. As he stood in front of me, I began to stroke his cock until he was utterly engorged, and he was unable to stay still. I caressed his ass; he was holding it tight. At least 30 minutes had passed since I had filled him with warm soapy water. “You can sit on the toilet, but I will be very disappointed if you use the toilet without permission.” He sat, and his ass began to leak. His eyes widened in acknowledgment that he had failed. I kept going with my plan. I pulled perfectly pink nail polish from my bag on the counter. 

“My sissy must look her best before we continue. Give me your hand.”

His ass continued to leak, and he continued to blush. As I finished painting his pinky, I told him to release it. Mark was mortified, but out of options, his bowels evacuated as I continued to paint his nails. He had no control over his body. His cock had been torturously edged, his gut gurgled and squirted. He had a mouth full of dirty underwear, all the while I painted his nails, made ugly faces every time he passed gas. I explained how lucky he was that I was willing to raise him up from being a dirty pig to a pretty little sissy who I was going to peg for the whole world to see. When I finished his nails, I removed the underwear from his mouth and left him sitting there, unable to do anything except wait for his nails to dry. I put a piece of gum in his mouth, turned off the bathroom light, and closed the door. 

I put on my harness and dildo, under my jeans and pulled the tank top over my braless tits. I grabbed the dress and wig and brought them to the bathroom. Time to turn things up a notch.

He sat watching, wondering why they were moving around so much. They were shifting and bouncing around in their chairs like water hopping on a hot frying pan. They sounded like a flock of gulls squawking. He figured most were a bit old for the first day of school jitters. Three minutes to the hour, the instructor walked in. Her footfall was distinct, a high heel. “Please?” He prayed silently. He looked towards the door a black high heel holding a perfectly formed calf and a black and white pencil skirt, “Yes” a white, V-neck sweater, and a red ponytail. Calvin smiled to himself. This was the stuff fantasies were made of, a hot teacher who dressed like a woman.

She held up papers and was speaking. He sat up in his chair, and opened his notebook, copied what was written on the board. Oblivious to the others in the room. 

“Calvin Rogers, do you go by Cal or Calvin?” She smiled and waited.

“Either one Miss.” 

“Alright, Cal, welcome to my class.”

The sweater tucked and hugged every curve. Her cleavage was subtle. The satin and lace felt warm against his cheek. The roughness of his hands made him hesitant. He didn’t want to damage the satin against her milk-white skin. His hand held her waist, under the sweater. His lips traced the edge of the sweater along her exposed flesh. His cock crushed against his jeans; he adjusted himself in his seat.

“Cal, can you see ok back there? Where is your copy of the syllabus? When did she turn off the lights and turn on the Smartboard?

“I didn’t get one.” She passes a copy down the row and returns to the lesson.

As she writes on the very top of the board, a sliver of skin above her waistband is exposed. On his knees, face against her plump, firm ass. She steadies herself thrown off balance with his closeness. He caresses her with his face. His hand uses the skirt opening to explore her inner thigh, Jackpot! Stocking. She adjusts her legs and continues to write on the board. He looks up. She turns halfway to face the class but doesn’t break stride. Oh my god, she’s fantastic.

“The choice is yours if you do the term project in a group of two or three. Each person is responsible for a major section. The whole group is responsible for knitting it all together.” His cock was throbbing, and he was flush as he surveyed the darkened room. She was coming towards him. Her eyes were bright and purposeful. “Jake, does that answer your question? There is no getting around the project; it is 40% of your term. Choose your topic and talk to me.” Jake sat behind him. She wasn’t going back to the board she was sitting on the desk across from him. 

Her speak was purposeful; her voice was sexy. “And do the research, we will go through the entire process, step by step.” She bit her bottom lip and licked it as she finished speaking. He looked into her eyes. One shoe on the seat and the other leg anchored to the floor the skirt wrapped her legs pulled taut, just enough room for his hand to slide between her thighs, grazing his fingers over her panties wanting to hike her skirt up. His rough finger vibrating the satin that wrapped her pussy. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she slid to the edge to the desk, rotated she was facing him, both feet off the floor legs apart, she leans behind the look the boy just behind her. Her back is arched, and her nipples beg to escape. He sits up and edges closer, he leans over to adjust his shoe stands and draws her close and dips to kiss her stomach. He nips at the soft fullness. She squirms and giggles. He finds courage in her response. He holds the small of her back skimming her sweater up to her breast bone, his full mouth sucking in his warm skin, his tongue traces up her side. She smells like fresh air and orange. She is delicious, licking, and suckling her chest heaves. Under the sweater the underwire holds her tits high. She emanates heat and rolls to respond to his touch. Her ponytail has fallen out, her hair is wavy and skims the edge of the desk. He runs his fingers through it, draw her close consuming that rose-colored mouth. He wants her breath and body wrapped around him. 

“Ok, the nest thing I have is a checklist we will do together. Your answers should be your own. This is about you trying to figure out your strengths and weaknesses.” He took the sheet and skimmed the words. He grabbed a mechanical pencil from his knapsack. She explained how to complete the worksheet and what they could learn about their approach to completing tasks.

She sat on the desk swinging her feet and talking to the class unconsciously playing with her shoes. She wanted him to take them off and worship those perfect arches. I bet her toes are painted red. Letting it hang off her toe, the shoe swung precariously, tempting him to take it before it fell to the ground. He slides off his chair, gently lays her shoe on the ground. His thumb massages her arch, feeling brave he raises her foot and takes her toes into his mouth. He hears the moan. She is ignoring him to tease him. Continuing to caress and massage her calf and thigh, he finds the lace of her stocking. No garter- only stay up. He was disappointed. He loved the band of a garter stretched across a woman’s ass. Staying between the lines, the goal was her sweet honey pot and plump ass. Burying himself and spreading her thighs, her skirt up around her waist. Her panties are wet, she slides them to the side and suckles her clit, licking and lapping up her juices. She presses his head into her cunt and gasps. Fuck me, boy, she growls. As she slides off the desk, her skirt skims his bare arm. “I’m sorry Cal, I didn’t realize I was so close to you.” Rotating on her toes, she strides to the top of the room. 

“Ok. Who got introvert?” she giggled. Why was that funny he wondered? 

Cal looks at his paper and skims the information trying to cobble together a response for when it is his turn. Oh, introverts are the quiet ones who don’t like to participate in group activities. His response was audible a few students made eye contact. His mind races with inappropriate barbs but knows she would not be amused. He raises his hand. “Miss, can you be both?”

“Of course, but most people find they are most comfortable in one camp or the other. I am actually quite introverted.” Someone laughs and says, “but you talk for a living?” 

“Yes, I do, but we can talk about me another time. Excellent work today. Email me any questions or comments. See you Thursday. She turned on the lights and opened the classroom door. Students grabbed their belongings and filed out the door. 

Cal had his bag on the desk in front of him, he was hanging back he was waiting for his hard on to retreat a little more she slowly collected her things, erased the board and as she was logging off the system she tries to catch his attention, but he hasn’t looked up. He can feel her looking at him; she is moving in front of the desk. He rises and moves towards the front of the room he watches her ass wiggle as she stops short and reaches over the student desk to turn all the lights off. She speaks to him as the lights go out, “Are you ready to go?”

He is close. She can smell his sandalwood. “Cal, did you need something from me?” Personal space invaded he expects her to lean away. Instead, she is standing tall. He has to step back. Her hand comes forward, and she cradles his crotch, squeezing, and holding his stare. “Be careful. I wouldn’t want you to lose your balance.” She released him as she felt his hardon fill his jeans. She picked a piece of lint off his sweater smiled and whispered, “Seems you have everything well in hand.” She gathered her things and left the room.

About the Author

Lover of all things sensual, a weaver of words, knowledge is my kink. Snippets of experience wrapped in fantasy; dreams are the kernels of my inspiration. “What if…” is often the start of crafting a new story. I love to teach, cook, travel, collect art, read, and write. Life has taught me to wring every drop from it; I hope you do as well.

He’s back in town. So many hate the rotation. The time between, no email, no phone calls,  nothing creates longing. Then the message- “Can I see you?” He knows the answer. Nevertheless, he always asks. My heart lifts, maybe a bit more than it should, for a friend I only get to see for a few hours. Those hours are complete. I am his and his alone, the clock stops, and we weave together. 

I answer the door- he walks in, my greeting sounds hallow. Before he answers he kisses me, I take off that silly baseball hat. His silken tongue massages mine, my stomach flips, and I audibly exhale with pleasure and wanting. “Get up those stairs,” he barely whispers as he taps my bottom. He follows, holding my ass. At the top of the stairs, he grabs me from behind, and I feel his warmth, he grabs my breasts and kisses my neck and across my shoulders. I am impatient- I want him in me. Like a brazen child, I say no, and hurry to the bedroom, removing my tank top and throwing it at him. I adore his quiet yet playful nature. He locks the door. I stand in a pair of red lace boy shorts, a strip of red satin covering my freshly waxed pussy. He doesn’t move or speak- he just grins. I reach for my phone and select a playlist. He puts a finger up to his lips. 

I press pause, “but I like music.”

He moves towards me, takes my phone and tosses it onto the dresser. “No talking.” My secondary protest is met with a finger on my lips, I open my mouth and wrap my tongue and lips around as he tugs,  I graze it with my teeth. My hand moves around him. He removes my hands and shakes his head. I press my lips together. The room is so quiet. He removes my panties. I am exposed, laid bare. I watch every move.

On his knees, his callus hands are silken against my thighs, kissing my smooth pussy. I ache to feel him between my legs. His hand squeezes my ass as he kisses and nips, my knees buckle in response. He stops. I make big eyes. 

“Stay there, don’t move.”

I sit on the edge of the bed. He takes me by the hand. Turns me around, lifts my arms, and places me against the wall. I turn my head to speak, his finger is to his mouth, “shhh.” I turn back around he taps the inside of my thigh, so I open my legs, My clit is throbbing, I am wet. A single finger slides between my ass cheeks towards my clit. My breath catches, my ass rises to him.

“Nice and wet,” he says. I place my forehead on the wall, waiting for his fingers to open me. He is walking away. I turn my head; he comes back and faces me forward. I hold his pose. My skin cools, and my desire is replaced with anxiety. I want to see where this goes, but I’m too exposed. 

Tap, tap, my pretty red shoes appear between my feet. He puts them on me. He insists on me not helping. I am growing impatient, his hand caresses my ass, lifting it and squeezing it possessively, his body is pressed against mine. His mouth is by my ear, “you are safe, trust me.” He draws back, and I hear him walk away. 

My head is reeling. He walked away. I can’t feel him, and I can’t hear him, a car door slams mumblings float through the closed window. I feel the air in the room change. I didn’t hear the bedroom door open. My ears perk as the floor squeaks. He left the dam room, that is the hall floor. I can feel my toes in my shoes. I had been standing on my tippy toes in the shoes, my calves, thighs, and ass held firm. I let my lower body relax onto the heels. I became aware of the effort I was making to keep my torso in this position. It was more comfortable with my balance on my toes. I drew my stomach in firmly+ to let my shoulder drop all the while my foot, and hand positions were unchanged, and I listened, patiently. I wiggled my body. I was aware of my joints. I bent my knees and moved my head. I arched my back, my ass protruding as I felt my chest muscles stretch. I elongated my left side, then my right like a cat stretching in the morning sun. 

An exhale followed by a purr. He was there. He was watching me. I froze acutely aware of my nakedness. “Mother fucker,” I thought. I motioned to push myself off the wall. I was stiff, and he was behind me. His body is close again, his hand on mine, his chest hair prickles on my back. His hand moves down and around to my breasts. His breath is hot on my neck. My sex awakes from its slumber, I move to respond, but his weight holds me in place. I am present in my body. His firm rough hands awaken every hair.

“Are you, ok?” he asks.

 I murmur, “um-huh.”

 “Good,” he pulls my ass out, shifting my position, changing my center of balance. “Try that.”

I see his shadow move across the floor towards the bathroom. How much time has passed? If there was a shadow that meant the sun was coming around. How long had I been there? What game was he playing? I listened for his activities. Was he running shower? I turned my head to see. He had placed a towel behind my heels in such a way that if I moved, he’d know. Curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see where this was going?  A bit of spanking during sex had been fun, even played with blindfolds and scarves. He’d also bent her over the island in the kitchen and spanked her until she came. This waiting? -This was weird. Her legs began to ache, again she pulled her tummy taught. She felt shaky. 

The shower stopped. Excitement filled my chest; he’d be back now to fuck me. He was good for an hour of foreplay and fucking, surely he was ready to leave soon. He never showered before. What was his game today?  A door opens, and the citrus scent filled the room. He flicks a light switch. He is in my closet. A hum? In the toy chest! “Oh, Christ!” I thought, “What are you up to?” I called not moving. A loud “SHHH” came from the closet.  I begin to believe he had fallen down the rabbit hole after the white rabbit. My body is weary from standing in the shoes for so long. I eye my toes an start to love my pretty shoes a whole lot less.

“Mercy,” I say, talking to no one. He was there, his arms around me.

“Ok, sweetness, you did good.” He holds me firmly, and I sit on the bed. The blood flows back into my arm; they tingle intensely. He is taking the shoes off and massaging my feet. I am so confused. This is not how we play. He shows up. I suck, he fucks, I cum, he cums, he leaves. The light in the room has changed.

“Move back on the bed for me?” I do as he asks, I am searching for something to pull over myself. I move so my back is against the pillows and draw my legs up to cover myself. 

He returns my shoes to the closet and returns with the toy chest. My get up, and fuck is gone. I am; still, I don’t speak, I just watch. He lays the chest at the foot of the bed and goes the bathroom, returning with two large towels. 

As though he is reading my thoughts, he answers, “yes, you will cum, and gush.” I exhale and smile. “That’s better; I like that smile.” He is naked and crawls towards me. “Want to play some more?” I nod but hold my tongue. Honestly, the tingling in my arms and legs makes me want to move around. I slide onto the towel. My legs slide between his as he kneels up on the bed. He just above my knees, his eyes hold on me. My hand covers my pussy. “If you cover it I can’t kiss it?” I move my hands up. He raises an eyebrow and smirks. I place them at my side. 

“If you stay still and quiet I won’t tie you up.” He leaned forward and kissed his way down my body as he moved off the bed. “Eyes open and on me,” he stated matter-of-factly. Jesus, he was asking a lot now. Take your eyes off mine, and I might stop. She looked down her body. He had plugged in the damn wand. He laid it on the bed. He reached for my knees and pulled me to him. My head was flat on the bed. I raised it to watch him. He was semi-erect as he moved between my legs. His mouth was so soft and warm, his hands wandered and searched for ticklish spots. He opened me with his tongue. I was so wet and wanting. My eyes close as I feel my sex harden and ache for touch, I reached to touch my clit, but his face was buried, I put my hand on his head, he didn’t protest. 

“Oh, Christ,” my cunt contracts to the sucking of my clit, his hands wrapped around holding my hips in place. The urge to rise hummed inside me, noises of please filled the room, my cries of pleasure. 

“Yesss,” stammered from my mouth, I was dizzy, I had been holding my breath. He draws back, “not yet.”

“Please don’t stop” I moan, My pussy is throbbing, my stomach and legs are shaking. He puts a condom on the wand  and some lube on. “don’t want you to chafe.” He opens my labia and barely touches my clit with the vibrating head.  I squeal in shock and ecstasy. “Eyes on me.” 

I bug my eyes and bite down on the inside of my lip. Raising a moan of protest as he says, “don’t cum.” The vibration courses through me. My hips press into the bed as though trying to hide from the vibration; the change in pressure is enough to awake every nerve. 

My eyes close and Please seeps from my mouth. He turns up the speed and I drawback, it’s too much. My body is overloaded with sensations. I can’t think. His fingers are in me. I can’t catch my breath. I tingle all over. “you can cum now,” he backs off with the wand and fingers me through the waves. I buck and ride, unaware of time and space. I float back into my body, and I can open my eyes. I can’t speak, I can’t move. 

He is next to my head. He places a pillow under my head, kisses me and says, “eyes on me!” I watch him as he stands at the foot of the bed, his cock is rock hard, I want him in me, connected to me, in my mouth, in my cunt, but I can’t move. He is masturbating. I move to sit up and move towards him. 

“Touch yourself for me.” I like back down and look at him. My clit is still hard, a breeze, and it’s alive and ready again. We watch each other as our bodies respond, and eyes begin to flutter. My hips rise, my arm is throbbing. “Come suck me, now!” 

Finally! His cock is that beautiful crimson color, ready for my mouth. I take him deep to the back of my throat. My mouth fills with saliva as I come back to the head. He is so hard. I suck his head gently but hold firmly tasting his saltiness. Water drips into my eyes. I am soaked in sweat. “Don’t stop masturbating,” he says. I don’t even try questioning him. I open my legs and barely have to make contact, I suck in the rhythm that I stroke myself. His cock twitches and I take him deeply again saliva fills my mouth, I release his cock and dip under to suck his balls in my mouth. Licking and sucking as my orgasm rises, sucking a little too hard, he jumps and brings me back to the present. 

He helps me up and turns me around face-first on the bed. I hear the condom wrapper hit the dresser. His hand rubs my ass and then smack. He is in me. He fills me as he holds my hips, my ass perks to bring him balls deep. A cacophony of moans and howls of pleasure filled the air. I called my god and goddess as he tempered his speed, allowing me to cum again.  Then the three, body shattering thrusts that bring that orgasm from deep inside was released. He continues to move for several minutes as I melted into the bed, a puddle of unadulterated contentment.

About the Author

Lover of all things sensual, a weaver of words, knowledge is my kink. Snippets of experience wrapped in fantasy and dream are the kernels of my inspiration. “What if…” is often the start of crafting a new story. I love to teach, cook, travel, collect art, read, and write. Life has taught me to wring every drop from it, I hope you do as well.

How did it start?. The mood at the dinner party had been so light and fun. She watched him take off the tie and undo his top button. Making love to him had always been so easy. Sometimes it was the stuff of love songs other times it was like coming home.

She places a stack of plates on top of the dishwasher. He takes her by the waist and turns her around, her back to the island. She makes a feeble attempt to protest the attention. She runs her fingers through his hair pressing forward to kiss him. He slips her encirclement and gets down on one knee. “What are you doing? You fool. Get up and help me load the dishwasher.”

“Give- me-your-foot.” He places his hand at her ankle and raises her foot. Kissing her shin and making eye contact. His broad grin makes her face light up. She loves him with every fiber of her being. He still wanted her like they were teenagers. He was her silly, loving goof. Her girlfriends whined about how their marriages had changed. One of the girls has a lunchtime fuck buddy. 

“Foreplay in the kitchen,” she thought.

He taps the back of her other leg. “You’re nuts,” she giggled and held her leg in place. He touched it again and smiled. The silky fabric highlights her perfectly formed thigh. “Come on” pointing her toe in response the shiny nude shoe knocks on the hardwood floor. Kissing the top of her foot, he slides his hand up to the back of her knee, letting her leg fall back to earth like a feather from an angel’s wing. He looked up, smiled, dipped under her dress, and kissed her inner thigh. 

“Clay!” 

He nudges his head between her legs. Her stockings slide on the floor like a baby deer stepping onto a freshly frozen pond. She grabs the edge of the counter and scrabbles to catch her balance. His determination meant she continued to brace herself against the counter. His hands move up to her honeypot, sliding his thumbs under her panties. Thumbs spread her labia his large hands take her weight and ease her up onto the counter. She squeals in surprise. Dedicated to his task, her dress moved like a puppy under a blanket. He is licking and nipping through her panties. Her legs are over his shoulders, she has no choice, but to recline and push the contents of the counter aside. She strains to request, “we can go to the bedroom?”

“No.” He hooked her panties to the side. Her labia is swollen and warm with arousal. Sliding his hands under her ass, he pulls her forward.

She surrenders to the twitch in her clit, his flat tongue presses that spot between her ass and cunt. His soft, warm mouth covers the width of her. Her clit is in his mouth. “Fuck! Shit! Oh my Fucking God!”

His face appears above the fabric, “Language young lady. You know, we do not swear in this house.” 

“Are you fucking with me?” his forearms are holding her legs open. His thumbs are keeping her open. She feels her juices start to cool. He has stopped, she looks down between her legs, the skirt has slid to the top of her thighs he is blowing on her vagina. She hears, “I was, and you swore.” 

With bulging eyes, she spits, “you want to discuss swearing, now?”

“Are you going to follow the rules, or do I need to discipline you?” He raised an eyebrow. As he speaks, he is moving her dress to expose her sex. She tightens her stomach to lift an arm and tries to cover herself. 

He stops her. “I am proud to say your pussy is mine and I don’t want you covered.” The panties are soaked. She can feel their wetness as his hand take the edges and begin to remove them. “Bum up!” The panties plop onto the floor, he looks at them, smiles, and pushes her dress to her waist, continuing the motion to her breasts massaging them, thumbs panning over her pert nipples. He Squeezes them in their lacy cage through the thin fabric. He becomes flush, and she knows he is hard for her. A commanding gaze holds her attention. “This is new?” she thinks and smiles. She settles onto her elbows. He watches as her shoulders relax and drop, she has accepted. “Good Girl,” he varies the pressure until the nipples pop.

“Clay, really? Let’s go to the bedroom?” 

“Your rules, we don’t swear, and we eat in the kitchen. Now, I am enforcing the rules. You will learn to accept me taking your pussy in the kitchen when it suits me.” Abandoning her breasts, his fingers begin to explore her moist pussy. Her head goes back, and both elbows keep her chest raised. She draws a full breath “fine” seeps from her open mouth.

He removes his fingers, “Why are you stopping? I said fine.” Opening the top-drawer, he places a drying cloth along the drawer, puts her feet on the edge of the drawer. “Don’t move,” he reaches for the utensil container, grabs a wooden soon and places it on her sculpted mound. Twisting to follow him as he moved around there island. The spoon hit the floor. 

“I said, not to move.” He opens the pantry, pulls out the chocolate sundae sauce. She began to sit up. “No, I’m not done. You see this. It’s your punishment for not behaving.” As he approached, he held her hair and cradled her head, bringing her mouth to his, kissing her deeply, relentlessly. Her protest softened. “Now, I want you to be a good girl, take your punishment, and I will reward your obedience.” She raised her head to kiss him again and say, “ok.” He kissed her forehead, “Good girl, legs up, knees together.” He had moved the stuff that was behind her? She lid flat on the island legs raised and ankles crossed squeezing her legs together to hide her sex. 

Smack

“What the fuck?”

“No swearing” –Smack– he had the spoon in his hand and had hit her again. “Did it hurt?”

” No, but?”

Another gentle smack, this time on her compressed sex. 

“Oh!?”

“My goal is your pleasure; now do as you are told.” Smack.

“If you say, Pudding, I will stop, sound fair?” he was caressing her ass as he spoke.

He wet his finger and began to stroke her sex. Not breaking eye contact, her face softened. She kept her thighs together but unlocked her ankles. Grazing his fingers along with her stocking a shiver shuttered her body, “That’s it. Enjoy this; you are mine.” Her closed legs hid his face. She opened them slightly to catch sight of him. 

“Good girl” He had the chocolate bottle opened and hovered above her pussy. ” I want more dessert, and you need to learn. I will take your pussy as it suits me.” A drizzle of the sauce fell onto the manicured mound. He covers her and sucks like he is taking the top off of a soft-serve cone. He lingers, she feels his tongue slide down to her clitoris.

Her hands come up and hold her knees. She is entirely open to him. Her surrender allows him to feast on her sweetness, a flat tongue from ass to clit. The sweetest treat his licking intensified as her hips begin to rise. He stops at her vagina, lapping up the creaminess she produces. His stiff tongue darting in and out, his hands firmly on her hips, holding her to his face. Her moans become more intense, and her breath ragged, he feels her cunt tighten, trying to hold his tongue.

“You, I want you inside me,” she whimpered with swollen lips and dewy skin. Her dress was sticking to her.

“You moved, this is your punishment, I will let you orgasm, enjoy the ride.”

His speed slows as he maneuvers his tongue onto her clit. Her legs were shaking, her ass held firm as she raises her pussy to his mouth. He moans as he licks her swollen clitoris. She lowers her legs and places her ankles on his shoulders open and wanting for his attention, her hand on his head as she began to climax, rotating her hips he brings his mouth around her hard reactive clit and sucks while listening for her breath, switching to licking her entire sex to prolong the build. This time as he strokes her ripeness with a firm tongue, he inserts his fingers and locks his mouth onto her clit and sucks. 

Waves of ecstasy caused Karen’s back to raise her hip and drive her cunt into her husband’s face, her release gushes as she gyrates, he kisses her inner thigh as he continues to she rides the orgasm to it sweet end, contraction push the liquid from her sex, he kisses and licks until she speaks, “Do it again.” He laughs. Kissing her sex, he surveys his work, reaches forward to help her up and show her the spoon. She grabs the spoon, slithers down between him and the counter, and takes off. “Meet you in the bedroom.”

About the Author

Lover of all things sensual, a weaver of words, knowledge is my kink. Snippets of experience wrapped in fantasy and dream are the kernels of my inspiration. “What if…” is often the start of crafting a new story. I love to teach, cook, travel, collect art, read, and write. Life has taught me to wring every drop from it, I hope you do as well.