4 comments/ 157888 views/ 11 favorites Prelude By: wildest1 Sleeping. Your face, if it could be so, is even more beautiful, more handsome now. I continue into the room, careful to be silent. I set my things down, and shrug out of my light jacket, letting it fall soundlessly across the back of the chair. Unzipping the dress I'm wearing, slowly, ever mindful of not waking you, I let it slide down, til it pools at my feet. Stepping out of it, now wearing only my bra and panties, I kneel beside the bed. Carefully, slowly, I pull back the light blanket and sheet covering you, watching your face, gauging the expression. Hoping you stay sleeping long enough for what I would like to experience. Pleased that you are naked beneath, I smile as I see exactly what I wanted to: Your cock; soft, hooded within the silken foreskin, lies between your thighs, nestled in the surrounding, golden pubic hair. It's not often that I see it this way, so I just look a while, partly loathe to disturb your slumber, but mostly because I find it fascinating, arousing, this way. I love to think of ways to explore, to experience you, and this is still so new to me. I stifle a nervous chuckle, knowing the exact expression I would encounter were you awake: A fond, amused smile, your eyes bright and sharp with desire even so. I can see the bulbous shape of your cockhead within its sheath. I change the angle of my view, trying to see inside the opening at the tip, realizing how much I want to push the tip of my tongue within that cloak of soft flesh to taste, to coax it out to play. I find myself swallowing, aware now that I am salivating. I lean over you, hovering close, my lips mere millimeters from the shrouded tip, parted, a barest hint of warm breath might be all that you feel. My eyes flick to your face, reading no sign of wakefulness, yet. Smiling to myself, secretively, I inhale through my nose, catching your scent. An inward, unheard growl of hungry desire is felt throughout my being. My upper teeth scrape at my lower lip, catching it softly there as I nuzzle the tenderest flesh of you, not touching, merely taking the heat from your outer covering, my breath, my own warmth the only contact, just yet, and caressing every bit of you with it, from the root where it disappears amidst the tangle of hairs, out over the tip, and beneath to your balls. Barely, I contain the urge to go at you with all the enthusiasm now rising, clamoring within me. No, now is a time for patience, a time to savor this. My eyes drink you in, my lips absorb the heat of you, my nostrils bring your scent to my soul, my ears attuned to your unique breath patterns. I deny my sense of taste, just now, though I run my tongue over the surfaces of my mouth in anticipation. My fingers long to stroke you, my lips to kiss the silk-robed cock I crave so. I lift my head for a time, content to watch your face, your chest rising and falling evenly, your head turned to one side, snoring quietly. Smiling, again, finding myself quelling a desire to move right up and kiss you awake, I look at your hands. One lying alongside your hip, the other tucked up beneath the pillow under your head. I love your hands. I've always had a "thing" about arms and hands. Something about them implies the veined strength of manhood normally kept clothed. My panties are dampening, clinging to my pussy. Cupping myself much as you do, absorbing the heat, there, then bringing that palm to my face, fingers splayed over nose and below my eyes, inhaling my scent. I hold that hand then below your nose and mouth, letting you draw in that same scent, hoping to sweeten your dreams just before I wake you. I also know I'd better move to the enjoy my explorations before you waken, knowing how swiftly your cock fills and forsakes its covering. I kneel again, beside you, hovering over you, my mouth again open, my tongue waiting just behind parted lips. My lips surround the tapered tip, my tongue slips into the opening. I suckle so gently at the folded flesh, my tongue alive with the intense taste found inside and around the tip of your cock. I stifle a heated moan, my eyes lidded, watching you as you rouse, my senses now completely awash with you. Even now your cock fills, stiffening, thickening, the space inside growing smaller, my tongue greedily, hastily probing every part of it, then flicking foreward and back swiftly at the bit of connective tissue just beneath the head as it pushes forth to meet me. I taste your precum as it drizzles out, the moans of pleasure mingled with happy gasps of breath taken through my nostrils, so intent my mouth upon devouring you as to forego breathing. I let my hand encircle the shaft at its base, with soft, downward stroking motions, smiling around you as I feel the smoothness of your recently shaven shaft, knowing why you did this. So aroused by that thought, as in everything you do for me, with me...to me. Opening my eyes, knowing you've wakened, I find your gaze, the expression there somewhere between euphoria and spontaneous combustion. I hold that gaze, letting the meeting of our eyes flare with intensity unmatched, feeling its heat throughout eternity, knowing there is no more suited mate for my passions. Climbing onto the bed, I kneel between your thighs, my hands now at either side of your hips on the bed to support the weight of my upper body, and crouch down, my mouth the only contact on you, holding your shaft erect as I mouthfuck you. My lips tight around you, they slip past the crown with a pop, making me think of how your cock sinks into my tight ass ring, how that grip, that clenching is felt throughout me, and the filling pressure behind, the way your heat slides along my inner walls, the way your thrusts bring that pressure to repeated crescendos. How hard I cum when you fuck my ass. I lift a hand again to encircle the shaft, letting you see, sweeping my hair aside with the other hand so you can watch as I lick at your cock like an ice cream, but with infinitely more pleasure. I kiss the head, then, my lips round, working apart and then closed, suckling softly then pushing it from my mouth, imitating the way my mouth works when we kiss. Slurping gently, with more enthusiasm, letting my lips ride down your shaft, loosely at first, then tightening, maintaining suction, alternating it, my moans vibrating the shaft, the breath from my nostrils blowing on the wet skin of your fucktool. I can't help but push my free hand into my panties, my middle finger delving instantly into the needy opening, coated now with my slick juices. The pressure, the friction of my hand over my clit force me beyond the edge. I cum around my finger, my lips now paused around your shaft, my cries of ecstasy muffled by its presence in my mouth. Every muscle in my body heaves with pleasure. I withdraw my hand, and show you my slick fingers, drawing them beneath your nose, but not letting you have but just a taste, loving the groan that elicits, the subsequent tightening of your shaft in my mouth. My hand now moves down beneath your balls, I spread my knees to push your thighs apart. My slick fingers push over your tight sphincter, coating you with my wetness, driven wild by thoughts of you doing this to me, knowing how good this is, knowing your response will inflame me further, even on the heels of orgasm. My fingertip rests there, where the opening will be as you relax to me, a slight wiggling urging it so, my eyes watch your expression as I increase the pressure, the combination of lubrication and pressure, the sensations of near release relaxing the grip of your ass. Your cock spreads, lifting, the increase in size and girth noticeable, also the reaction as I push my finger further in and curve it gently, wiggling it within your opening, being tender and yet knowing these smallest of motions translate hugely there. My eyes watch you with the sheer satisfaction and wild heat of a jungle cat at a bloodfeast. Your grunts of pleasure build fires in me, that quickly devour my self control. I let my finger push into you to the second knuckle. Curving that finger forward, stroking, thrusting, twisting slowly inside you. The first spurt of your cum floods my mouth and I swallow reflexively, then back my lips from your cock to let your cream fly in ropes over my face, my mouth open to catch the spray, arching my back to catch some along the tops of my breasts. Bending my head to place my mouth over your cock again, sealing around the crown, I drink the rest, my eyes never leaving yours. I let my finger work out of you in thrusts, each one a little shallower than the last, in sync with your convulsing muscles, listening still to the strangled gasps and groans of your orgasm, knowing then that I can't possibly rest until I cum again, and knowing exactly what I want in that regard. I lift my lips from you, my face still covered with your cum, whispering, "Ohhh, baby....that was goooood...so good. Thank you for cumming for me so I could drink it, so I could wear it...I love to fuck you while I suck your cock....love to watch you cum. You are beautiful....to me....Mmm." I lick at my lips, reaching as much of your cum as I can, trailing my fingertip through it and letting my tonguetip clean it much as it does your cock. I moan wantonly and then crawl up your body to kneel over your shoulders, spreading my thighs to display the sodden panties to you, to tease your senses, hoping....whispering to you, "I want you to eat my pussy, lover....fuck me with your tongue, suck my clit....kiss my hole....god, baby....just saying it....so....horny....." My hips slide up, forward and back over your mouth and nose. Your expression, your response exactly as I hoped.... Prelude This is one of my "relationship" stories. There's no actual sex involved, just foreplay. Most of the dialog is shared thought rather than speech. If it's difficult to distinguish his thoughts from her thoughts – that's part of the reality... He sat on the floor, in front of the couch, his laptop on a mini-desk. His fingers wrestled with the words while his eyes threatened them with torture. It was the right moment. He wasn't getting any serious writing done and he was working too hard at not doing it. He needed to stop working. There was just enough room between him and the couch for her to slip behind him. She imagined herself on the back of a motorcycle, her arms wrapped around his chest and a hot engine between her legs. At first, he seemed to not notice her but she knew how to fix that. Her arms around his chest, her breasts pressing into his back and a brief wave of her wrist under his nose – that got his attention. He made the kiss-noise and smiled for her, but his fingers and eyes continued their assault on the words. Unconcerned, she pressed forward, introducing the topic. How would you do it? He stopped, looked up - remembering a conversation about another outlet for his frustration... He relaxed into her and closed his eyes. All thoughts of writing were banished from his mind. She licked her lips, tasting her easy victory. Do what? It. A moment. I want you to enjoy it. I'm afraid I would hurt you. So hurt me – I won't break. She slid her hips forward and leaned back, giving him a reclining chair in her body. She kissed the peach fuzz on his earlobe as he lay back into her. He released his body to her so his mind could explore the place that she wanted him to visit with her. If I go too far, I'll lose you. You'll hate me for taking advantage of you. If I don't go far enough... There was a desert fork on the plate, set aside. Her tongue tasted blueberry as she cleaned it. Her left arm took his right elbow to hold it in place. Her right hand brought the fork to his side, pausing to find a target at the base of his ribs. Hold still. Keep your eyes closed. Don't resist. He took her upper arm in his right hand, readying himself. Slowly, the four tines of the fork pressed on his skin. Ignoring his twitch, she applied more pressure. Ignoring a guttural warning, she pressed further. Ignoring his "Ah!" she broke the skin. He held his ground. He accepted the pain. He didn't resist. He trusted. She twisted – and pressed. Red droplets coated the tines. Breathing deepened. Muscles tightened, helping to restrain. He winced. He cried out. She went no further - but didn't withdraw. The droplets threatened to form a trickle. Do you still love me? She twisted again. Pain, enough to be unpleasant but not more than he could handle. Of course. She twisted yet again. Would you love me if I went too far? ...Yes. Will you leave me if I abuse you like this – for no reason but my own pleasure? ... No – of course not. The fork thumped on the floor. Her arms again circled his chest from behind. She kissed his neck and licked his ear. So, how would you do it. I could threaten – or force... Or both. A moment. It would be sudden. Maybe I would come home early or maybe just do it on a whim... I would scare you. Nape kiss. Relaxing further. Probably in a moment of anger – frustration with the world – or with you; maybe when you get on my nerves... That's might be it. I might be angry, pissed off over something you did. Instead of scolding or punishing... I'd do it. Ear nibble. I love you. Push you against the wall. Get in your face. Lay into you. Slap you. Pin your arms. Rip your blouse. Bite your lips. Shove my hand down your skirt. Pinch you – again and again. I'm your wife. I belong to you. I want you to feel your ownership of me. Her hands stroked his chest from behind, kneading his impossibly large muscles. How much is too much? It's up to you. I mean it. If I hurt you badly... It's too much if ... if I can't please you anymore. Smile. So, I shouldn't do anything to you that I don't want to live with... Giggle. Leave some marks, little permanent marks in hidden places. A moment. So how would you do it? Come here. I want to see you. I need to see your face. I need to know if... I just need to know. She slid out from behind him, crawled around and sat in his lap, facing him, straddling his legs. Her hands rested on the nape of his neck. She studied her giant up close. He held her in his arms. Her impossibly small body was - a little heaver than it looked... but still... it was like having an elf or a pixie for a wife. How on Earth did a six-foot-three man, a competitive archer, with arms seemingly larger than her body – how did he fall in love with such a slight woman? Her fiery temper belied her diminutive size. She reminded him, occasionally, that five foot two isn't that short for a woman. The fact that she was a foot shorter than her husband had as much to do with him as with her. A lot of her smallness was really her thinness – so narrow-waisted – narrow even in her shoulders and hips. Perky... sometimes. A wildcat... sometimes. But she seemed so fragile. I won't break. We girls are built for it. It's what our bodies are designed for. Men have been doing it to us for a long, long time. I can take it. I suppose... but... rape? What good is it to have an enormous hunk of a husband if he won't occasionally use his muscles on me? I can't feel your strength unless you use it. I can't experience you if you hold back. You married a pipsqueak. I married a giant... It's what we both wanted. A moment. She was so close – her body was so small – it would be so easy... But it would be wrong. He should pick on someone his own size. But... big or small, she was his wife. When you married me, you put your trust in me. I can't hurt you. When I married you, I put my faith in you. I don't need to trust you. I don't care if you hurt me. I married all of you - including your strength - including your anger - including the blueberry syrup in your moustache. She licked his face. They kissed, darting their tongues in and out. A moment. They stopped for breath, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, eyelashes to eyelashes. So, how would you do it? Taking her wrists in his hands, squeezing them hard. Like this... He kicked the desk aside and sprawled forward with her still in his lap. Her body fell back to the carpet. His body surrounded her. Eeek! ... Prelude She cowered on the church steps. Her ivory satin, wedding gown was rumpled and dirty, a white-on-pearl rosebud veil tumbled off her straggling hair. A bouquet of wilting pink roses and baby's breath lay upside down beside her scuffed, silken slippers. "C'mon honey," a woman, wearing a blush-pink, bridesmaid dress, whispered while tugging at a non-responsive arm. "You can't stay here all night, you've got to find a place to stay." She was numb to the woman's concerns. She felt as though every living organism in her body had been violently ripped out. Her worst nightmare became a reality just a few short hours ago when her lover and husband-to-be failed to show up at the church. The impatience of the reverend and the pitying glances from the meagre congregation were too much to bear. She begged her friend to send her husband to her apartment to see if her groom was all right. The apartment was empty. All the furniture, clothes, and wedding presents were gone. The man who promised to love her until forever had even stolen her car and emptied her bank account. She was wearing everything she owned in the world. * * * * * Trembling on the concrete steps she cast her mind back to the times they spent together. They had met at a conference in a local hotel eight months ago and it was love at first sight. Men didn't usually give her a second glance but he couldn't take his eyes from her. They had a drink in the hotel bar where he said he was new in town and didn't know many people. He was so attentive to her and for the first time in her life she felt the power of her femininity. She told him she was meeting some friends for dinner and, taking a deep breath, asked if he would like to join them. She watched his face light up when he agreed. Her friends were stunned when she introduced the 6'4", broad shouldered man whose arm was firmly entwined with hers. She knew they wondered how she ever managed to get the attention of such a beautiful looking man. Men just weren't interested in her. Until this one. During dinner the girls, obviously enthralled by his snapping black eyes and how he tossed his shoulder-length salt and pepper hair, batted their eyelashes, flirted outrageously, and didn't hesitate to toss out blatant sexual innuendoes. But he only had eyes for her. He entertained them throughout dinner with lively stories about his past and some of the people he had met. He had grown up in the American southern states where strong religious ties were routine and throughout dinner held the women captive while he regaled them with stories. He told them about the time he had been hired as a roady by a gospel circuit preacher who taught him all the tricks of the trade. They laughed at how gullible people were and how obvious the preacher was. All too soon dinner was over and reluctantly her friends left her alone with the handsome man. Bringing her hand to his lips his eyes danced over her face when he asked if he could see her again the next night. Her breath caught in her throat. How could this dynamic, attractive man have any interest in her? She heard her mother's haranguing voice in her mind telling her how ugly she was and how no man in his right mind would ever give her a second glance. She blinked quickly trying to halt the hateful voice crawling through her head, the screeching, persistent racket that was now stilled for eternity. Taking a deep breath, her lips quivered when she agreed. That was the beginning of a whirlwind romance. They were together nearly every night afterwards. When they had dated for a month or so she suggested he give up his tiny, rented room and move into her spacious apartment. After all, he said he loved her. "How much do you love me," he asked her continually. "Would you do anything in the world for me?" "I love you more than life itself and you know I would do anything for you," she'd always reply. How was she to know he'd ask her to prove it? "Come with me and I'll take you on a journey you'll never forget," he promised one evening. Like an innocent lamb she let him lead her along the seedy, downtown streets where neon signs flashed and beckoned. "Why are we here," she asked. "You said you loved me. Have you changed your mind?" "No. I do love you." "You said you'd do anything in the world for me. Did you lie?" "No. It's the truth. I would do anything for you." "Now you'll have the chance to prove it to me," he vowed, gently guiding her through a black, enameled door. He led her down a long, dark hallway, lifting a crimson, velvet curtain before entering an oval foyer. They were greeted by a tall woman wearing a patent-leather camisole and shorts over fishnet stockings and four-inch, spike-heel boots that brushed her knees. "What have you brought for us tonight," her voice sounded like warm honey. Her yellow eyes glittered while raking the trembling newcomer from head to toe. Her scarlet nails, looking like bloodied claws, flicked a long strand of jet-black hair from her face. "She's promised to show me how much she loves me," he said, lightly stroking her back. "Did you now," the honey voice crooned. "Well let me have her for a while and you can get ready yourself." A soft hand reached out and cupped her quivering chin. "There's no reason to be afraid. We're going to take real good care of you." Softly grasping her chilled fingers she led her into a changing room. "Let me help you out of your clothes," the honey voice murmured. "I didn't bring anything to wear," she protested feebly while expert fingers quickly stripped her. "Don't worry about that," she murmured. Standing back to view the innocent's shivering nakedness, a gleam shot through her topaz-coloured eyes. She placed both hands underneath her heavy breasts. "Your knockers are gorgeous." Before she knew what was happening a hungry mouth latched onto her erect nipples and suckled. Unexpectedly, hot liquid gushed from between her thighs. She moaned, her knees buckled. The scorching mouth slowly pulled away from her tit, a thread of drool connected them. "Hmmm, you're delicious too. Let me get out of these clothes and we'll take a bath together," honey voice promised. Flimsy garments were quickly discarded revealing dark aureoles, the colour of molasses, and rigid nipples jutting in the air, begging to be chewed; her narrow waist introduced flaring, rounded hips, her bare pussy glistened atop long, muscular legs. "Like what you see, sweetie?" She couldn't take her eyes off those bursting nipples. Her tongue flicked from her mouth, wetting her lips in anticipation. She wasn't disappointed when one hard nipple teased her lips. Hungrily she sucked the bud, drawing the tit deeper into her hot mouth. Her hand grasped their fullness, kneading it, feeling the silky hardness tighten under her fingers. Raging pussy juices erupted from her and streamed down her thighs. Strong fingers parted her legs and plunged into her cunt. She scraped her fingernails down the hard body, feeling the satiny sheen on her bald pussy and finding the swollen clit. Pulling and pinching on the button her thumb slipped into the dripping wet hole to punish her turgid g-spot. Together, they ground against each other's hands, mouths sucked and chewed, moans and screams bounced from the walls as they simultaneously climaxed. Raging torrents of steamy cum puddled at their feet. Breathing heavily they leaned into each other. "Baby, I can see why he brought you to me. You are an amazing bitch and one I intend to enjoy even more." No one had ever said those words to her before. An overwhelming sense of acceptance flooded her. She was so eager to please that when her strong fingers slippery with her own cum teased her lips she greedily sucked them clean. "Come with me now and we'll bathe."