He loves underboob.
My eyes were tightly shut, my breasts swung, my hand gripped his giant, hot erection, and my mouth enveloped his lollipop cock.
I worked it like it was salvation. Nothing else mattered. He tensed and relaxed again and again. I sneaked my free hand around to lodge tightly in the V of his spread legs to support my upper body and press devilishly against the cool, broad glass face of the butt plug wedged neatly into his body.
His body quivered and I stilled. He’d stopped talking minutes ago when he began to tense. This was him losing it: a quiet release of control which is only observed by his silent yearning.
He will never whimper like I do. Tears will never streak his face or sobs wrack his body. His subspace is a stoic place. He will giggle and shake his hands. His body will tremble and I will feel its pull like a bowed line to a great, fighting fish.
He pulled against the restraints and gasped.
“Is it too much?” I asked peering up at him.
“Nearly so,” he amswered.
“Good,” I smiled, “I told you you’d have to beg me to stop.”
I ducked back down and slobbered all over him. He pleaded with me to lighten my touch on the head and I gently adjusted, softening my tongue as I sucked and pulled wetly on him.
He began to quake again and his shaft bulged with heat, but then it slipped away and I knew instinctively he’d had enough, but I was waiting for his voice.
I continued to press against the butt plug and he surged again to an inhuman stiffness, but it slipped through his fingers again. I let him rest for another beat then lapped at him, popped the helmet into my mouth like a sweet and massaged it with my mouth.
He swelled again. I began to worry about him, Gow much more could a man handle?? And then he began to talk in a rush, “Ok, ok, ok. Please, stop…”
“Are you begging?”
“Yes! Yes! I’m begging. I can’t take any more, Ma’am.”
Softly, ever so softly like a butterfly kiss, I held him in my mouth and then let go. I slowly crawled up to his bound wrist, his jerking-off hand, and unbound it while my lips played on his. “Will you please put your hand on my cock?” he asked.
I pulled back and looked into his darkened eyes. “No,” I said simply. “You do that.” I had denied him so many things that night, no blindfold, no sex, no to every request he had. He was about to be rewarded.
He nodded obediently and I heard the telltale fapping as I reached for my Hitachi. I stood on the floor and put one foot on the bed frame and switched it on.
I nearly doubled over as the vibration quaked through me. His hand, a peach-colored blur in the candlelight before me, walked me to the edge and shoved me off, down into a dark and sparkling mass of orgasm below.
Tears slipped down my cheeks as I crawled to my nook. His arm wrapped around me and pulled me close.
We talked some then, whispers and deep tones, giggles and kisses.
He said he’d lost it. I told him I knew.
My top drop was flat and mellow as I felt the magic of the D/s play cool like a dessert rock at night.
I smiled into his strawberry skin and listened to him tell me how he lives in a fantasy: a hot, big-breasted, lusty, older woman who lives next door and who likes to dominate him.
I think he lives in a fantasy, too.
The storm outside boomed loudly and threatened rain. He took my hand and dragged me to the balcony. I draped blankets over our shoulders to keep away the spring chill and knelt before him. The skies parted and lit up our naked bodies; I devoured his huge and hot cock with my hungry little mouth.
He pulled me up and pushed me against the railing and not so gently rammed into me, his cock fat and wet. He grabbed the nape of my neck and held me there.
I moaned and panted, hoping desperately another neighbor was out to see Nature’s theater, but was also treated to hear the most ancient and natural of sounds: two bodies rutting.
Eventually, we tired and he slowly slipped out. He pressed his warm, furry body against mine and kissed my neck, my top drop completely forgotten, my belly warm and my heart full.
The night sky continued to light up just for us as we stood pressed together three stories high and on a dream. He walked me back to my bed and tucked me, blew out the candles and left.
