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Silence

By: indigobynight



She waited in the darkness, the wind in her face tasting of salt and sea and fish. She leaned against the seawall, facing the pounding sea, feeling the rough texture of the stones against her abdomen through her thin cotton dress. The iron railing running along the top of the wall was smooth and cool in her hands, steadying her even as a shiver stole over her. When would he arrive? Why wasn’t he there yet? 

As though in response to her unspoken anxiety, the wind picked up, whipping her hair around her face in stinging nettles, chastising her, then calming abruptly to caress her bare shoulders and tease the silky skin of her thighs, billowing the dress’s short, flirty hemline up. Soothed, she let the skirt lift, enjoying the feel of the wind between her legs, of the silk sliding against her thighs and bare buttocks, and knowing that if he was near, he would see her standing as he had told her to, bare beneath the dress, waiting for him. The glimmer of her thighs, white the moonlight, would be a beacon for him.

And then, suddenly, with no warning, he was there. She felt his presence behind her in the half-second before she felt his breath on the nape of her neck, but when she gasped and made to turn, he pressed against her, stilling her, one arm coming around her waist, the other hand closing over her mouth.

“No,” he said, his voice a whisper in her ear. “Sh-h-h. Not a sound. You know the rules.”

Her heart hammered against the cage of her ribs, her breathing was fast and shallow. She willed herself to calm and, after a moment, nodded her head briefly.

“Good girl,” he said, releasing her mouth. He stroked her bottom lip with his finger then pressed her mouth open, putting it inside. She sucked his finger eagerly, until he withdrew it and stroked it, still moist from her mouth, down along her jawline to her throat and shoulders, caressing her as the wind had done. His other hand slid down across the silk of her dress, across her belly and down her thighs. When his hand slipped beneath the hem of the skirt to stroke her bare buttocks, she let one hand go of the railing involuntarily, reaching for him. 

“No,” he said sharply. Grasping her hand firmly, he replaced its grip on the railing. “Don’t move, don’t turn around, don’t speak.” His voice was a low and harsh, his breath warm against her ear. “Close your eyes.” 

She quivered and did as she was told. The low thud of waves on the beach, the rough stones of the seawall pushing against her, the cries of gulls and the tug of the wind were all lost to her as she yielded to the sensations he was evoking, feeling only her body and his hands on it. Her stomach felt tight, her thighs loose and liquid. His hand brushed across her breasts, a bare, teasing touch, and her nipples sprang up into hard peaks, aching for more. He pinched first one, then the other, pinching and pulling on them until she gasped. Between her thighs, she felt herself grow slippery and hot. She felt him slip a hand between her legs, and then felt his fingers, as though tasting her wetness, slip the barest inch inside her and back out, spreading her wetness across the lips of her sex. She bit her lip against the moan in her throat. She had been waiting for this, anticipating this...for days. Weeks even.

He brought his hand to her lips. “Taste it,” he said. “Taste yourself on my fingers.” 

She licked his fingers, one by one, drawing them into her mouth and tasting her own sweet huskiness on them. 

Abruptly he pushed against her, pinning her against the seawall. His body was hard and heavy against her, the seawall harder, scraping her belly and thighs as her body was pinned between them. It was hard to breathe, hard to think... His lips touched her ear, his teeth scraped her neck, his tongue slid along her jawline just below her ear. Her eyes were still closed, but she could see him in her mind’s eye, see him touching her, his hands on her breasts, his body against hers. When he slid his hand between her thighs again she sighed and willingly opened herself to him. He slid his fingers into her then, into the wet, dark recesses of her and she shuddered. 

“Please…” her voice was a choked whisper, the word uttered involuntarily.

“Quiet!” he growled in her ear. Grabbing a handful of her hair he gave it a vicious yank, pulling her head back against him, turning her face up to his. She didn’t dare to open her eyes, just stood there, quivering. Then, apparently satisfied with her acquiescence, he let her hair go and pushed her head forward again.

“Good,” he said. Then, “I know what you want, sweetheart…” And then he pulled back from her for a moment, leaving her cold and alone, but only for a moment so that she whimpered again, low in her throat, but she kept her hands on the railing and her eyes shut, trusting him, knowing that yes, he did know what she wanted. In the next moment he was pressing against her again. She could him, hard and rigid against her buttocks as he spread her thighs wide. With a single, quick thrust he was suddenly inside her, stretching her, filling her, fucking her. She couldn’t contain the gasp and moan that spilled from her, as her eyes flew open and then were squeezed tightly shut again.

He didn’t move for a moment, just stood there, buried deep inside her, his lips on her neck, where he bit, very gently, and then harder and harder, until she was afraid that he meant to draw blood.

He didn’t though, instead pulling back to whisper in her ear, “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You want me inside you, fucking you, don’t you?”

She whimpered, knowing that he was right and that if he had allowed her to speak she would have told him so, begged him to take her, to “fuck” her, because that was the only word for what he was doing to her, taking her like this without a word or a look between them. Instead she nodded mutely, and he drew away and then pushed into her, a slow agonizing push into the depth of her, pushing his length into her, filling her again…and then faster, until he was slamming into her and the wall was scraping her skin raw but she didn’t care. He held her thighs apart with his hands in front of her and she held the railing and bit her lips to keep from saying, yes, yes, fuck me, please…she realized that her sex was pressed against the wall, rubbing her clit in a way that was almost pain and then, suddenly, exploded into pleasure. And as she came she turned her head to bite her arm to keep from crying out loud. 

She felt him come a moment later, felt his hands reach up to grasp her shoulders to hold her tight as he slammed up into her and she felt the hot wet spurt of him deep inside her.

And still her eyes were shut and she hadn’t looked around.

They stood there for a moment as their breathing slowed to normal. Then she felt him withdraw, heard the sound of him adjusting his clothing, felt the butterfly kiss of his hand on her throat, her face. Then the feel of his breathe on her cheek. 

“Good girl,” he whispered. 

And then he was gone, leaving her alone again in the dark, while the salt wind tugged at her skirt and blew her hair across her face.

Silence



Silence.

That's the one thing I hadn't expected when I asked my wife, "So what are you saying, you want a divorce?" 

'Of course not', or 'don't be silly' was what I had expected to hear. I looked at Tonya, my jaw dropping. "Are you serious?"

She looked down, her long red hair hiding her face. "I -- haven't been happy for a while now, Eric." 

"But what about all of last week, our anniversary vacation…" I trailed off. I'd felt myself that after four years of marriage, we were getting stuck in a rut. But that was part of what had brought us here, to the living room of a rented house. We had been trying to sell the tiny house that I had owned when Tonya and I got married, but had recently packed everything up and left it empty in the hopes that it would sell more quickly. Tonya and I had just returned from a 5 day anniversary vacation along the northern California coast. 

My mind flashed back to that vacation just days before. Images of her laughing as we drove, her long hair whipping in the breeze as she tried in vain to keep it contained. Images of her flashed before me -- lying on her back in our hotel room, her eyes wide and mouth gasping as I slide my cock into her dripping wetness, her curly red hair down below proclaiming her true red-haired status, as if anyone really doubted. A flash of her soft breasts pressed around my cock, as I slide the tip into her waiting mouth, her pale eyes looking up at me. The sound of her screaming into her pillow as my tongue and fingers teased her over the edge after 15 minutes of denying her the orgasm she had so desperately craved. The walks on the beach, the sexy photographs at sunset on the bluffs, all of that that felt so good, so right -- and she wanted a divorce? What. The. Fuck?

I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Eric, and at this time in my life I was 29 years old, had been working at a promising job at a big high tech firm for five years, and had been married to my beautiful wife Tonya for 4 years. Neither one of us was in a hurry for kids, so life was pretty simple.

Until then, in any case. Tonya's silence devastated me at the time, but it was the turning point that started me on a two decade sexual adventure, that is still continuing. Polyamory, three-somes, four-somes, open relationships, BDSM, sub/dom play, and so very much more. I learned a lot from some amazing, wonderful friends and lovers, and even when I failed miserably, I learned and (eventually) grew. I dedicate these scribbling, and those yet to come, to those amazing people who shared their lives and souls with me. If any of you ever happen to read these, I hope you recognize yourselves and remember me fondly. 

Let me get back to picking my jaw up off of the floor. Turns out I got in at the beginning of a growth industry. This was about 1991, early in the massive multiplayer online gaming craze. Tonya played a text only adventure game -- hell, I started playing too just so we'd have something else in common. She had fallen in love with a guy in Texas, and she was going to move there to be with him. To be honest, the rest of that conversation, nearly 20 years ago, didn't stick with me. What happened a few hours later though, did.

We were both emotionally exhausted. The tears, the explanations, the shouting and pleading, had left us drained. By the time we had to go to bed, we knew that the marriage was over with, and that Tonya would soon be going to Texas to start a life with a man she had never even met. That didn't seem important as we closed the door, dimmed the lights, and started undressing for bed. I walked slowly over to her, her eyes not leaving mine as I approached. As I reached around to unhook her bra, she sagged a little into me, her eyes acknowledging what I already knew -- this would be our last time.

I leaned down to kiss her, and all of the emotions of the past few hours threatened to boil over, and our mouths started ravaging each other. She was more aggressive than she had ever been before as she sucked on my tongue, her hands struggling to release my erection from my jeans. As I popped free into her hands, I pushed her to the side and back, tossing her onto our bed as she gasped. I kept her from sitting up by nuzzling her breasts, then sucking hard at her small hard nipples. I kept my head moving down, and traced her cunt lips with my fingertips through her rapidly dampening panties. Putting my mouth over her clit through the panties, I formed a seal and blew, forcing hot air over the sensitive bud. As I pressed my tongue slowly onto the rapidly dampening cloth, Tonya's breathing quickened, and she started to moan louder. Enough of this -- she's the one leaving me -- if this is going to be our last time, I'm going to leave us both with some memories.

Sinking my teeth into the front of her panties, grazing her clit with my teeth as I do so, I stretch them as far as I can with my mouth, then grasp the sides of her panties and yank them down her legs as she gasps. She looks up at me as I strip off the remainder of my clothes, my 7" cock jutting up and out in front of me. I step between her legs as she is still splayed mostly on the bed, and lean down to suck on her tits as I slide my hardness against the outside of her lips. She moans as I gaze down on her, my cock grazing her clit, her curly red hair matting with the dampness. I kneel on the edge of the bed, lifting her feet off of the floor and raising them over my thighs as I place the tip of my cock at her entrance. I hover there, looking into her eyes as she whimpers, raising her hips to try and force me deeper. Again she tries, raising her hips higher in vain as I move with her, keeping just the tip of my cock in her tunnel. Once more she tries, her lips forming "please…" as I pinch both nipples hard as I slide all the way home, and Tonya screams "OH MY GOD!" I hold then, buried completely inside of her, feeling her pussy stretch around me as she gets used to the feeling of fullness. My fingernails tease her crinkled nipples, and she begins to rock against my cock.

I slowly begin moving now, kneeling above her, rolling my hips in order to hit that spot she likes so much. I move my right hand down, fingertips vibrating just above her clit, moving it within the hood, not so much stimulation to be irritating, but not quite enough to cum, either. I start to fuck her harder now, faster, and I look down at her closed eyes, mouth open and moaning and I wonder if she is thinking of her new lover. 

As that thought crosses my mind, I take my hand and start lightly slapping her pussy, right on her clit, as I keep moving in and out. The sound of her moaning increases, as does the frantic motion of her hips, as I keep increasing the force of my slaps. My hand comes down harder and harder, as her moans get louder and more desperate. She cries out as I leave her empty, and I spin her around and toss her face first further onto the bed. I move up onto the bed, spreading her legs with my knees as I kneel behind her. I grasp her hips, and pull her up into a kneeling position, her soft red hair streaming down her back and brushing my wet cock. I push her head down onto the pillows with my left hand as I ease my cock back into her pussy. I stop my motion when I'm almost completely withdrawn, and Tonya whimpers and tries in vain to get me deeper. SLAP! "Ah!" she cries in surprise as my hand comes down hard on one rounded cheek. "Oh! Ah! Ooohh!" the cries continued as I kept slapping her pale ass, my handprints blurring into a glowing red spot as we fucked faster and faster, both of us selfish in our pursuit of our own orgasms. Tonya reached around and grabbed at my ass, her nails leaving broken skin behind as she tried to pull me deeper into her. I don't know which of us started cuming first. But as we screamed out our release together, our bodies sweating and gleaming in the dim light, I knew it would be the last time.



Silence



I was hard all day at work thinking of you.

And you knew that.

I could tell, because you had the music up loud as I came home. You didn't hear the front door key in the lock. You didn't hear me walk up behind you as you were bent over the sink washing the dishes.

You let out a small scream when I put my left arm to keep your hands in the water, whilst using my right hand to cover your eyes. But you knew the consequences of showing any reluctance.

You put your hands down flat on the bottom of the sink, to show that you wouldn't move. I took this opportunity to produce a blindfold from my pocket. The elastic fitted snugly around your head, and the padded black cotton slid over your brown eyes and enveloped you in darkness.

You could feel my hardness growing even more as I bent you forward slightly. The short skirt you were wearing as per my orders pulled up and revealed the tops of your stockings and the elastic triangle of the back of your panties. It was in the space between them that my fingers first went, at first teasingly, but growing more firm. You gasped when the first finger pulled the elastic away from your skin and ran down the line towards the gusset......

But not too fast.

First, a towel. I pulled your hands up so they were in front of your chest. I moved around beside you, and cleared the foam from your hands and wrists. I could feel the slight shudder when the rough material brushed against your braless breasts. I knew you wouldn't dare show any more reaction than that. Yet. But I could see through the thin black cotton of your top that your nipples were becoming hardened and jutting through.

I came back behind you, and ran my fingers around the bottom hem of your top, as it sat snugly just below the level of your navel. Slowly I pulled the material up to just below your breasts, and for the first time felt them, taking them in the palm of my hands. Insinctively you pushed backwards and your bottom pressed against my groin again. I leant forward and nuzzled the back of your neck, with kisses and soft little bites. 

My fingers started toying with your nipples. Soft, round strokes around the edge of your aureolae. It only made you tighten your thigh muscles and press your cheeks even harder against my groin. My kisses moved to your shoulders and the top of your spine.


Then came your first word. "Please." 

I ignored you. My hands continued their dance around your breasts.

"Please, Sir."

That was better. You learn your lessons slowly, but well.

I pulled you upright with one hand on your chest and the other on your bottom. That hand lingered there for just a few seconds more, dancing across from cheek to cheek, then moved upward to pull your top up to your neck. You put your arms up, bent over so I could remove it completely, then resumed standing. Instinctively, your arms formed a cross to cover your chest, and your head bent down slightly. I threw the top on the floor. 

I moved in front of you. With one hand I grasped your wrists where they crossed. With the other I traced a line from between your breasts, straight down... over your stomach, once around your navel, then down to the top of your skirt.. I hooked one finger behind the top button and pulled the material towards me slightly. With a small step, this drew you close to me and now there were only your crossed arms between us. I drew my left hand up from them and pulled your head back up to face me. You heard my breath coming closer, and you knew we were about to kiss. Your mouth opened slightly and allowed my tongue to explore between your lips and the wetness inside.

You thought it was hours that we had kissed, yet it wasn't even a minute. You were trembling slightly as our bodies pressed together. You could feel the heat we generated already.

And yet, I had only just started.

I broke away from you. You knew that I wanted you to stay exactly still, standing up straight with your arms crossed in front of your chest. You heard me walk out of the room for a second, stop the music you had been playing, then re-enter. You heard the faint chink of metal, as I walked behind you. From behind, I took your left arm and placed it on your left bottom cheek, palm facing backwards. I did the same with the right. Then, the metal sound again, and the feel of velvet around your wrists -

- You suddenly realised you'd been cuffed for the first time in your life.

"Sir?" you whimpered, but I ignored you. There were several clicks as I tightened the cuffs - not overtight, but snug.

"Sir!" This time there was more pleading in your voice. I reached around you and placed a finger in front of your mouth to show I wanted silence. Instinctively, your lips opened and your tongue came out to taste it. I allowed you all of two seconds, then pulled away. Your head bowed down again.

I savoured the view for a few seconds, then moved back round in front of you. Having your hands secured behind your back made your breasts push forward prominently - a view I approved of and noticed for future reference. You heard me go over to the sink to get a glass of water. I drank thirstily, refilled it and came back over to you. The top of a straw pressed against your lips. You sucked up a few mouthfuls, then lifted your head away from the glass.

"Thank you Sir", you said after you had swallowed. I considered for a second whether this was a breach of the silence I had ordered, but you knew that I valued politeness and would not punish for such good manners.

I went over to the sink to put the glass down, then came back in front of you. Again, with one finger I traced a line from between your breasts, once around your navel, straight down to the top of your skirt. This time, though, instead of stopping there, I continued down the line of three buttons on the black denim material. I popped them open one by one, gave one downward shove on the material, and let the skirt fall down to your feet, covering the scarlet red high heels I had told you to buy only two days before.

I gave a light, sharp slap on the outside of your stockinged left thigh, and you gingerly moved one step to the right, shaking the skirt from your feet and leaving it on the floor. Again, I took my time to take in the sight before me. The grip-top black stockings were absolutely horizontal, as if you had used a spirit level when you put them on, I noted with approval. Your red lacy panties, again bought to order, covered you well - for now. I moved behind you. Still the same perfect view - except -

Except. You could feel the change in mood. At the top of your bottom crack, above the line of your panties, the white label hung out and curved away from you. I tugged on it, then let the elastic snap the material back onto you, at which you gave a small gasp, before tucking the label inside. You knew that this was definitely something I would punish you for.

Placing a hand on your back, I marched you out of the kitchen and into the living room. There was no sound except the "click-clack" of your stilettoes on the wooden floor.

Gently, I manouvered you to behind the sofa. My other hand came to just below your breasts, and leaned you forward, so that your stomach rested on the cushions of the back of the couch and you balanced on your toes. You drew your cuffed hands up so they did not obstruct your jutting bottom. I paused for a second to ensure you were comfortable, then removed my hand from your back.

My left hand, though, danced around your front. It came to your left breast, hanging down deliciously. Again circling, my fingers toyed with your erect nipple, around the stiff areolae and bud. Your breath quickened. You knew what was coming next. This was not the first time you had been over the sofa for a spanking.

I withdrew my hand, and you inhaled, waiting for the first slap. It did not come. Instead, my soft footsteps, moving away.....

......a rustle of paper......

......and back again. You heard me move around the front of the couch.

You smelled the leather an instant before it came up to touch you gently on the nose. A cold, flat surface, but not hard.... I moved it around slightly. You sensed two thumb-sized leather pads..... and coming back from them..... a thin pole.....

And then you knew. A riding crop. You shivered involuntarily. I had only ever given hand-spankings before, except for one occasion with your tennis shoe when you had forgot to call me Sir. You guessed that I must have been saving this for special disobedience.

Keeping the end of the crop on your nose, I walked around the side and behind you. I pulled away, and then pressed the tip of the handle down on your back between your hands. It had a cold metal rounded end. I slowly moved it down your spine, and hooked the handle in the back of your panties. With one movement, they came down over your cheeks. I continued down until they hung between your knees. You shifted a leg slightly outwards so they stayed there - another lesson well learned. I could smell, as well as see, your excitement.

You knew it was coming, but that didn't make it any easier........

whap!

You grunted, but didn't cry out. I was proud of that.

whap!

This was nothing like the spankings you'd had before. Much sharper, much quicker, without the warmth of my hand afterwards to help heal you.

whap!

"Mmmphh!!!" Your lips were tightly shut, but that one couldn't be held back. It stung so much more.

whap!

This time, the crop stayed on your cheeks after impact, and I pulled it across your skin. The ends flapped as it ran over the crack between your cheeks. I lifted it away again. You grimaced and waited for the next one.

It didn't come. Instead, you felt the leather dance around your pussy lips. You gasped at the feeling as they worked around, perhaps trying to find a way inside.....

whap!

You weren't anticipating that one right then. A small scream escaped your mouth. I leant over, and again placed a finger to your mouth to re-signify my wish for silence. I pulled away, and you nodded slightly to indicate your understanding.

whap!

You did better that time. No sound except for the sharp exhalation of breath from your nostrils. Again, you felt the end of the crop - but this time at the top of your bottom crack. Lightly, it moved down between your cheeks and again onto your pussy, and down to where your clit bud was throbbing. It parted your lips slightly and moved onto the button, with a gentle prodding and playing motion. Your mouth opened and your breath became even heavier.

I allowed you ten seconds of this, then moved back round to the front. This time, when I brought the end up to your nose, you could smell your juices entwined with the aroma of leather. I pulled it down slightly, and you stuck your tongue out, and tasted yourself on it. You wanted to move forward and take it in your mouth, but I kept it just out of reach, so you had to strain your tongue as far as it could go to get the taste.

I pulled the crop away from your tongue. You heard the clatter as I dropped it on the floor. You had taken your punishment well; you had endeavoured to keep silent as far as you could. I was proud of you. Now was the time for your reward.

Walking back around the sofa, I gave a short gentle smack to the outside of your left thigh. You immediately pushed your legs together, and your panties fell to the floor. I took your legs by the ankles, and pulled upwards. You were now angled forward with your weight on your abdomen, on the back of the sofa. Your head was now pressed onto the seat. I parted your legs slightly, and you brought your legs up, so that your heels were pointing straight up in the air.

I hooked myself between your knees, and brought my arms around your legs. I brought my hands down to your buttocks and gently caressed the six red stripes I had put there. I put my hands flat on your cheeks, and you could feel the healing warmth from my palms. My thumbs played with the flesh of your bottom crack.

I could see that your pussy was growing even more damp, craving attention. I brought my right hand under your thigh, and used two fingers to circle your hole slowly. I parted them, and brought your lips apart. With a third finger, I slowly probed and pushed inside, only very slightly inside your hole, but enough that I heard a small muffled yelp of delight from your mouth, pressed as it was against the sofa.

I crouched down, and put your thighs on top of my shoulders. Now you could feel my breath between your thighs. You were quivering slightly as I moved forward to kiss your wet hole. I stuck out my tongue, and danced it all around your lips and vacuumed up the juices. So sweet.

I moved further in, and you felt my nose and mouth invade you. My tongue popped inside, and darted about until I found your bud. I poked and stroked at it. More muffled noises came from the other side of the sofa, and your thighs pressed together around my ears.

It didn't take long before I sensed you were near. My nose had now worked its way up into your hole, and I quickened the pace of my tongue. I pulled my hands up your legs, and brought them down so that your heels were almost on your buttocks. Your thighs increased their clamp on my head. You pushed back at me as hard as you could....

....and with a muffled scream, you came on my tongue.

I slurped up the juice, gradually decreasing the speed. You had never tasted so good. The rate and pitch of your quiet moans came down, and faded away. I pulled your thighs away from my head, and stood up. Gently, I pulled you around and down, so you were now laying on the sofa. You were gasping for air as your mouth came away from the cushion. I laid you face up, with your ankles on the armrest. I put a cushion behind your head, then knelt down beside you to kiss you. This time it was your tongue that invaded my mouth, as you clamped on me to get all the taste of your come that you could. I gently stroked your left breast to show my loving and pride for you.

You had been given your reward. It was now time for mine.

I reached behind you and flicked the catch on one of the cuffs. It sprang open, but I grabbed your wrist before it could escape free. I brought both arms in front of you, and refastened the cuff. Pulling on the chain between them, I manouvered you until you were kneeling on the wooden floor, and I brought your hands up to my belt. You unfastened it, popped the buttons on my jeans, and slowly pulled the denim down my legs. I stepped out of the jeans, and again brought your hands up to my briefs. Pulling them down slightly, you brought your head up and placed a light kiss where my cock and pelvis meet.

I placed a hand on the back of your head, and you knew this was an order to continue. You pulled my briefs down more until my hardness sprang up from the material, and down to my feet. Placing light kisses all around my groin, your tongue came out slightly to wet the area.

I pulled you round, your mouth pressed on my cock, and sat on the sofa, knees apart, with you between them. Now you took my cock into your mouth, with gentle sucks and nibbles. You moved down to draw my foreskin back, and your tongue explored all around my glans. You could taste that I had started to dribble pre-cum from the head; you lapped it up and swallowed as much of it as you could.

I brought your hands up so that you could play with my testicles whilst you sucked. You kneaded them gently, and ran your fingers around the skin beneath near to my arse. You had spent many hours learning the technique I liked most, and your expertise was only making me even more swelled. My breath grew ever heavier.

Pursing your lips into a circle, you started to move your head up and down, so that my cock thrusted as far into your throat as you could manage. Your tongue continued dancing on the back of my head. Two of your fingers gripped at the base of my cock. You picked up speed. You wanted my hot juice to shoot in your mouth, so you could swallow every drop.

Instead, I pushed you off and span you around. I sat on the armrest of the chair, and pulled you backwards towards me. Your hands found my cock and you guided it into your pussy as you came down onto my thighs. You placed your hands on the armrest, and started to work yourself up and down. With one hand, I gripped you around the waist and thrusted up against you. With the other, I reached between your legs, and found your bud with one finger. That only quickened your pace.

It was not long before you were starting to let out small squeals again. Your wet pussy was squeezing ever tighter around my cock. Your thighs clamped onto mine, and you came again with a quiet, but high-pitched squeak. But now I wouldn't let you relax. I kept you bobbing up and down for a few more thrusts....

....and then it was my turn to quietly groan, as I squirted my love into your pussy. I pulled you down all the way onto me, and gripped you even tighter. You could feel the spurts on your cervix.

I lay back, and pulled you with me, still impaled on my cock. As we lay panting, I nuzzled the back of your ear and the side of your neck. I popped my cock out of you, and dipped my fingers into your sloppy pussy. I then brought them up to your mouth, and you tasted our mingled juices and sucked them off my fingers. Then you turned your face to mine, so I could share the taste too.

Gently, I lowered you back onto the sofa, on your side. You curled up, gripping a cushion. You heard me stand up, and put my briefs and trousers back on. I knelt down, and placed a last, gentle kiss on your lips. I pulled away, placed a finger on your lips again, and you heard me go out to the hallway, put my shoes on, and go out the front door.

You put your hands back down between your legs, and gently ran your hands between your thighs. You knew that your partner would be back from work soon. 

And you wondered what would happen when she found you, with only your red heels on, blindfolded, cuffed, and with a man's fresh come in your pussy, what punishment would you face from her then?

[c] fishophile, 16/6/03 



Silence



The rest of the city is asleep.

You text me an address and what looks like a room number.

My gps leads me to a hotel in the center of town.

I wear a skirt, black and well above the knee.

A tank top.

No bra. No panties.

I'm standing outside of the room.

Inside my body is telling me to leave, leave now.

Instead I reach down, turning the handle, and opening the unlocked door.

After a few second my eyes adjust to the light and I see you.

The door shuts behind me as I walk into the dim room.

Sitting on the bed you are massaging your stiff cock. I gulp, its big.

You are wearing a mask.

I cannot see your face and it sends shivers down my spine.

My eyes turn back to your hand, gripping your large cock harder than before.

Not a word is spoken.

I walk closer as you continue to stare at me.

My lips are parted and I barely notice my tongue slipping out to lick them.

A few more steps closer, I need to see it closer.

I'm now within arms reach.

Your spare hand reaches to the him of my skirt, lifting, searching, grazing.

The lack of panties doesn't go unnoticed.

I turn around and bend over to give you a better view.

Several times your thumb slides through the juices oozing from my slit.

I gasp as you push your thumb into my butthole.

You stick your two middle fingers inside my pussy.

Your cock, still in your hand, waiting to bust.

Just as I begin to enjoy the feel you remove your hand.

I turn around to see you wipe precum off the tip of your head.

I open my mouth signaling that I want the tiny droplet.

Licking your finger I savor the flavor of you.

My skirt is bunched around my waist.

You grab my pussy lips and pull me towards the bed.

I land on all fours before you ease your grip on my pussy.

Grabbing a fist full of hair you push my face close to your cock.

I assume you want me to suck it until you slightly turn my head.

I look at you, see your eyes peering at me through the mask.

The slapping of your cock on my face startled me and I try to move.

Tighter my hair is gripped.

My face is turning red from the slaps.

Lifting my head you bring my face close to your and watch my trembling lips.

You let go of your cock and slap the right side of my face.

Reaffirming your grip,you steady my head again.

I watch your hand come up again as it lashes me once more across the face

Your hand goes back to stroking your cock.

I reposition myself on all fours as I feel you tug my nipples through my shirt.

You pull my nipples with both hands until I'm on top of you.

I try to lean back, I need to leave, I can't even see your face.

That only causes you to pinch harder and pull closer.

Your gaze drops down to my pussy as you feel drops of my moisture leaking.

You push my skirt on up around my waist.

Grabbing my hips, lifting me to the very tip of your cock.

You tilt your head to watch my pussy juice drip onto the head.

Go! I have to leave! I should have left. Why did I open the door?

I put my hands on your shoulders and try to push myself off of you.

Gasping I feel your cock sliding through me as you push my thighs down.

I pant as you allow me to sit on your pole and adjust to your size.

I open my eyes and look at the eyes hiding behind the mask.

Your hand pushes my chest and I fall backwards onto the foot of the bed.

I'm a bit stunned by the sudden movement.

You push me onto my side and on over onto my stomach.

Looking back I see you straddling the back of my thighs.His hand slides up my spine and back down over my butt.

The thought of a nice backrub goes through my mind, my body relaxes.

He massages my butt, kneeds them like dough.

My body turns into jello under his soothing hands.

Immediately my eyes widen as I feel it.....

His cock, the tip, my ass clinching as he stuffs the head into the tiny hole.

My hands pulling the sheet as it pops into my butthole.

With one hard thrust his entire cock is stuffed into my ass.

He holds it there, leaning in to moan into my ear.

I brace myself as he pulls back.

I'm shocked once again as he pulls all the way out.

My little ass muscle spasms in an attempt to tighten back up.

He hurt me, maybe he feels bad. My ass stings. Is it bleeding?

Still on my thighs his hands land beside my shoulders as he leans closer.

I feel him, parting my cheeks again, his cock grazing in my pussy juice.

He doesn't stop this time, he goes in fully, not wasting a moment in my hole.

After an eternity of him admiring my gaping asshole he decides its time to nut.

He pulls me back onto all four, lining up his cock to my ass.

Pulling my hair back he sides his arm under my neck.

He tears into me with one mission, one goal.

I see spots as he tightens his arm, cutting my breathing in half.

A loud moan fills the room as I feel the nut being forced deep inside.

He waits, allowing every drip to drop, leaving each inside me.

Standing up he picks my keys up from the floor, throwing them at me.

He notices a small bit of cum still oozing and flings it off his cock onto me.

Not a word is spoke.

The mask is not removed.

I hobble to my feet, pulling my skirt down as cum seeps from my ass.

He points to the door, my signal to leave.

Settling down into my car, I lean my head back and breathe out.

I lift my skirt, looking down at my dirty cum holes, I smile.

Not a single word was spoken.



Silence



It's the little things that count. By themselves, each little thing is nothing, but once they all run together in a chain they can add up to a chance that may not come your way again. As far as Peter was concerned, that chance had come.

It was a hot and muggy night. Because of that Michelle had gone to bed with her window open, hoping the slight breeze would help cool her down. It was far too hot to use blankets, and her restless tossing had caused the sheet to drift away. The barest minimum of lacy baby-doll pyjamas was all she wore, and at times she felt that was too much. She slept, but lightly.

Peter had intended to be back at the boarding house about ten, but a signal failure had left him stranded for a while, and it was nearly midnight when he finally got home. The moon was full and the breeze was now an intermittently gusty wind. 

Entering via the front door, a gust blew past him, surging happily down the hall and pushing at the doors. One door wasn't properly closed and opened with a little sigh.

Ever considerate of others, Peter reached for the door to reclose it as he passed. He glanced in as he did so, and that's when all those little things came together.

In the light of the moon he could see Michelle, asleep on her bed. After all her tossing and turning she had finished up on her face, knees bent under her and lifting her bottom into the air. Her baby doll pyjama top had somehow rolled itself up over her breasts, leaving them on full display to Peter's interested gaze.

As far as Peter was concerned, she was doing everything but giving him a written invitation, and he decided not to wait for that. He quietly closed the door - behind him.

Quietly stripping, Peter studied Michelle, planning his line of attack.

Actually, attack is rather a harsh word. Instead, let me say, Peter studied Michelle, trying to determine the best course of action to bring the greatest pleasure to both of them. 

Sitting carefully on the side of the bed, moving slowly so as not to disturb the sleeping girl, Peter reached out and gently stroked Michelle's pussy through her baby doll pants. Not hurrying, he lightly scratched against the material, causing little tremors of sensation to ease their way into Michelle's sleeping mind.

Still sleeping, Michelle's body reacted, pressing lightly back against that insidious touch, seeking something more. Peter continued his feather-light assault while Michelle, without realising it, succumbed to the pleasure of it. Her dreams started moving in exciting directions.

Observing that Michelle was starting to move restlessly on the bed, Peter took the chance to ease her pants down. No panties under them, he noted happily. That would make things easier. Now he was able to play with her bare flesh, and had a better idea of where to touch.

Minutes passed while Peter continued his slow tantalising torment. Michelle was gasping slightly and muttering in her sleep, and a finger slipping inside her was met by damp heat and a restless squirming against him.

His erection truly ready for what was going to happen, Peter eased slowly behind Michelle, taking his time so as to not rouse her in an untimely manner. Finally he was in position.

Edging forward, Peter pressed his cock gently against Michelle's slit. Her lips were pursed and open, inviting him in. Gently he eased deeper into her. Finally in full possession of his prize, Peter started a slow pumping, relishing the way her pussy clung to his cock as he moved.

Michelle slowly woke, feeling strange. She'd had wet dreams before, but these had been something else again. She could still feel a man inside her, pleasing her. As she roused further from her sleep, she gave a horrified gasp.

She could still feel a man inside her because there was! Someone was having sex with her while she was sleeping! 

Michelle gave a squeal, trying to work out what the hell was happening. She could feel someone taking his pleasure from her, apparently in no hurry, as he was just sliding in and out of her pussy and taking his own damn time about it. What was worse, she was being betrayed by her own body and was rocking in time to those sweet gentle thrusts.

Setting her hands firmly against the bed Michelle pushed upwards, hoping to dislodge whoever it was. What actually happened was that her hips stayed precisely where they were, a prisoner to the man pressing into her, while her chest cleared the bed. Not slow to take even further advantage of her, a pair of arms closed around her, hands clasping her breasts and squeezing them.

A slightly harder thrust had Michelle tumbling back down to the bed, her face hitting the pillow. Now her lover was leaning more heavily against her, preventing her from rising again, while his hands continued fondling her breasts and rubbing her nipples, while he had apparently not missed a stroke. He was still doing those long slow incursions, sinking deep into her body with each thrust, while to her chagrin, her body continued to rise to meet him, enjoying the feelings that were being engendered within her.

Twisting her head free from the pillow, Michelle tried to look behind her to see who was doing this to her. All she could see was a large shadow draped across her, moving in time to that slow pounding that was not so slowly driving her wild.

"Stop it!" she yelled, or at least tried to yell. The sensations flooding her seemed to be taking over her whole body, and it was all she could do to gasp out her plea.

"Who are you?" she begged to know. Once she found out, someone was going to have a tragic accident. She swore this would be so. And still that relentless motion rocked her, bringing here unwanted pleasure, and leaving her feeling helpless to fight it.

It wasn't that she was helpless to fight it, Michelle knew. It was just that her body didn't want to fight it, and was actively cooperating in her ravishment. She made a sound from deep in her throat, and even she couldn't tell if it was a groan of fury or a moan of pleasure.

Peter was enjoying himself. Since Michelle had woken she had become a lot more active, twisting and squirming under him, bringing more pleasure to him with her every movement. She'd made one or two token protests but now she was lying there, her bottom bobbing happily as her pussy accepted his homage to her womanhood.

Listening to the frustrated little mews escaping from Michelle, Peter guessed that she was ready to climax. Smiling he slowed the rate at which he loved her.

Michelle could feel her climax approaching. Very soon, she hoped, this would all be over and she'd be able to find out who this bastard was. She was going to kill him, truly she was. Soon, she thought, her climax in view.

When her assailant slowed slightly, Michelle was taken by surprise. Her climax was hovering there, leaving her balanced on a knife edge, but instead of driving home into her to help push her over, suddenly she was being held there, tantalisingly dancing on the brink, while desperate to topple over.

Peter grinned as he felt Michelle trying to hasten her coming. Idly, he wondered how long he could hold her there. Grinning, he worked at finding out, adjusting the speed and depths of his strokes, keeping her hovering on that excruciating edge.

All Michelle's attention was now on that cock that seemed to have balanced her on a needle point and left her there, just seeming to give her an extra touch whenever she seemed likely to fall. She was openly pleading now, desperate for that last push but unable to work out how to get it.

The slow torment continued, as Peter stroked slowly away, keeping up just enough friction to hold Michelle on the verge, leaving Michelle almost weeping with the pleasure of it.

Peter finally succumbed. Unable to control his own climax any longer he suddenly drove in hard and fast, squeezing Michelle's breasts hard at the same time. Ejaculating explosively, he flooded her while driving her over the edge into her own orgasm.

Michelle felt that first hard thrust with relief, happily toppling of the edge and into the abyss of her own climax. She could faintly hear herself screaming into the pillow while her lover pounded out his message of glory against her pussy, sending her into paroxysms of delight.

Michelle lay on the bed trembling, the after effects of the sex slowly draining away, leaving her glowing but lethargic and half asleep. Slowly realising that she was free to move, Michelle's hand darted out to switch on the bedside light, sitting up at the same time, her fury surging to the fore.

And there was no-one to vent it on. Whoever it was had gone while she'd been lying there relishing the glow. She had no idea who it was. One of the tenants or just someone who'd come in through the window? A friend or a burglar? And she had no way to find out. All she had was a silhouette of a largish man. 

She didn't even have a voice to try and match. For the entire time he was ravishing her, her assailant hadn't said a single word. He had just appeared, ravished her, and then disappeared, all in silence.

"A ninja," she decided bitterly. "Striking out of the night and then returning to it."

Lying down, she slept.



Silence



I was just heading to the shower... I was thinking of bringing you there with me... of tying your hands together and raising them onto the hook in the bathroom... 

I was thinking of taking my shower head off the wall, directing it onto each and every single inch of your body... sometimes from distance, sometimes from close in. Watching every reaction, every twitch, your every single lean into the water stream as I do so... knowing how you react, watching what your body enjoys more or less... 

Watching your eyes, changing the shower head to the jetstream... the massager... repeating the whole process again... every single inch of your body, every pore of your skin explored with the more powerful jet... and this time, I stay with your eyes, penetrating you as I do so... boring deep into your soul, watching your eyes flinch, seeing you try to hide, feeling you open up as the water cascades over every single inch of you... 

Then. Only then would I cover my hands in soap: a nice lathery gel... As the gel falls into my hands, you can smell the perfume within it... You slowly close your eyes and take in the scent. With your eyes closed, I turn you round to face the wall... The water now landing on you half way down your back, over your ass to your legs... you feel the cool air against your arms, your shoulders; your nipples just starting to come to attention as the cool air pings against them... 

The shower gel is cooler still... 

I pour the gel onto your wrists. Slowly... slowly, it trickles down your arms... No touch from me as the smooth, cool gel slides down your wet arms, tickling every millimeter it passes... finally, after an age, it reaches your underarms... You wriggle, a big smile on your face as it tickles you.

Finally, my hands... strong... firm... hands take the soap from your underarms and slide the full length of your arms, twisting as I do so, covering your entire arm with soap, with the warmth of my hand, with the smooth sensations... with goosebumps..

Admittedly, they may have come from my warm breath on your neck as I massage the soap into your arms... taking forever and a day, massaging each muscle, each joint, each and every cell of your skin coming alive with my attentions... a gentle moan exudes from me as your entire upper body springs into sudden goosebumps.

I love that.

My soapy hands come down onto your shoulders, your neck.. eradicating the subtlety of my breath... just my strong hands. U hear my voice again, this time hissing a "shh" at you as I hear you moan... "No noise. I don't want any cheek from you today. Nod if you understand" You nod a slow nod. Now, we understand each other... 

My firm hands on your neck become gentle nails VERY softly scraping down your back... more touching the beads of water on your skin that the skin itself... I know you tried to keep it in, but the sharp intake of breath and the "fffffffffffff" sound that accompanied the breath in makes me stop.

I take the water off you. "I thought we understood each other. I will ask one more time... nod if you understand." My voice firmer, sterner yet quieter... Again, I see you nod. I so hope you actually mean it this time. "Last time... not a single sound." Each 's' reverberates in your mind... You're trying to fathom why when the water returns... The warm water feels like a relief, taking away the cold air... again a wider, softer waterfall... 

Immediately, you feel my hands, warmer this time... caressing the soap into your breasts, your sternum, your neck, your tummy... all over... moving too quickly for you to hold onto one sensation... just warm soapy hands all over you. To test our understanding, I tweak your left nipple.. A knowing smile arrives on your lips before you know it... A little confidence growing inside you now as you weren't even close to making a single sound.

As my hands explore you, I take slightly longer each time I touch your breasts, taking a millisecond more to squeeze you a little firmer, or slowly brush your hard nipple... Every time my hands pass your breasts, you feel a moan swell up inside you... every brush, every lingering touch, every single squeeze... 

Oh... God... Must... hollllllllllllld... it... in... 

The water up above your head, pouring over your shoulders so that it splits front and back... It goes more over your back, but most of you feels warm... You can move and shift the water's ripple ever so subtly, so that every part of you feel its warmth... Enjoying the play, the control of the water... 

My soapy hands firmly, yet with no hardness, stroke down your back, taking a moment to linger just above your crack... slowing right down... my fingers gently, yet firmly digging in to your butt cheeks, enjoying your buns... my thumbs, splitting open the cheeks and gliding their way teasingly softly down the crevice... The smile on my face is a mile wide, as I feel you pushing back against me. I firm up in response... telling you that I enjoy your pushing... your only limit is silence... everything else goes... I want you... need you to enjoy this... this is for you.

Teasing the entrance to your ass... just the softest.. the merest of touches and your legs give way... the tie on the hook saves you and you regain your stance. Taking an aeon to enjoy your arse. you know I love everything about it... touching, licking. kissing, biting... smacking the living shit out of it... each of these pass through your mind as I tease the entrance... willing me to slide a soapy finger inside... pushing against my hand, quietly hoping one will slide inside you... 

And down your legs we go... taking time to get more gel into my hands... every muscle receiving a good massage. Still huffing from not getting my finger, this isn't working for you as much as the arm and shoulder rub did. Yet, I am enjoying touching you, exploring your body... every detail... 

My hands come up the insides of your thighs... my fingers wrapped round your thighs from the outside, still kneeling behind U my thumbs come up the back of your legs... As I reach round to touch you, my thumbs come up over your ass cheeks... my fingers achingly close to touching you... I know you soooooo want to push against me right now yet you are trying not to give me that satisfaction... Your brattish self still there, as ever... Now, I have your attention again... 

I turn you round so you are in front of me, facing me, watching me. See the smug look on my face as I sit on the edge of the bath, the shower head in my hands... Just the quietest of whispers comes from my mouth, struggling to hear me over the water, I see the confusion in your face. A little louder, yet still whispering, I ask you to spread your legs for me... The "for me" makes you smile inside... knowing it's for you, but knowing, too, that this pleases me... 

The water is back on full jet now, and you know exactly where this is going... starting on the inside of your left knee... all the way up the inside of your left thigh... slowly... so slowly... too fucking slowly... It feels sooooooooo good and yet in your mind you are pleading higher... just high... just... 

But no.

back down your right thigh to your knee... Over and over and over again... up... down... up... down... up... closer... down... up... down... up... down... up... closer, closer , closer , CLOSER... 

Eventually, your aching clit feels the water jets... I aim just above so it's not too sensitive... close enough that you feel it... warm enough that it cascades down and takes away the ache deep inside you... Oh, my fucking god... the smile on your face guides me, guides the water jet... 

Taking the water jet down now... skirting it quickly from left to right, fast as I physically can.. with your legs spread, I can tease your labia with it... only just touching them and no more with the outside of the spray... you know the one that just seems to spray out at a slightly different angle... That is the one I use to tease your lips... 

So, fast... sooooo fast... I can see your eyes closed... biting your lip... stifling that sound... yes, that sound... you know it's inside you... but you can feel it's under control... 

Without warning, I take your stomach and push you back onto the wall... the tiles are fucking cold against you back... my left hand pushed back against you, my thumb pulling up the hood of our clit... Oh My God, this is gonna hurt... You look at me for my reaction: you don't even know if you said that or thought it... 

That I haven't moved, my full intensity focused on your clit, tells you either way i didn't hear... 

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH... you feel the full jet against your exposed clit... Almost instantaneously, you feel a shudder go through you... It is so fucking intense... the waves of pleasure ripping through your body... the lightning bolts sparking through you, making you judder... the tremors ripping through your legs... 

it's too much... it's too much... oh, GOD IT'S TOO FUCKING MUCH... I know you are trying... I know you are holding it back... I know too the scream is inside you... Welling up right from the root of your soul... 

Oh, For fucks sake... Can you feel how close you are?? Seconds now... the torrent on your exposed clit is too much to bear... seconds... just hold it... the trembles in your legs pull you back as you lose the strength in them again... regaining your composure, you can feel it again... so... fucking.. close... My entire face willing you to cum for me... the water on your clit... my thumb pulling up the hood and exposing it to the full power of the jet... 

So close... the sound is welling... can you fight it?? can you... So fucking close... oh, God... don't scream... don't scream... no... just... hold it... no... don't... don't "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHhhhhhhhhh... " Too late. The sound flies from your mouth. Soaring high and true... but just too early... 

As promised... I stop.



Silence



The instant he stepped through the door I dropped to my knees, hands clasped behind my back, eyes staring at his gray lowtop Chucks. I was naked except for my collar, and that combined with my position made me feel completely subservient to him. I was desperate to beg him to take me, use my body in whatever way would most please him, but I didn't say a word. He had instructed me beforehand to remain silent unless asked a direct question tonight. I was aching for his touch after six long months without it, but what I wanted from him was of no significance.

He just stood there for a long moment. Wondering what he had in store for me was making me even more desperate, which I knew was precisely why he was doing it. Finally he spoke.

"I'm glad to see you're showing some discipline, slave. This is how I expect you to behave--calmly awaiting my orders. It shows what I want from you is all that matters."

Hearing him tell me I was pleasing him had its usual effect on me--my pussy throbbed and I felt a rush of happiness. I would do anything to hear him say that I was pleasing him.

He was silent for a moment, and then suddenly his hands were on my head, shoving me down to his feet. Startled by this, it took me a moment to arrange myself, hands on the floor to either side of his feet now.

"Lick them clean, slave," he said. These particular Chucks had been his usual pair for some time, and they'd accumulated a good amount of dirt by now.

I began to lick, gingerly. I did still want to please him, but they were just so dirty, and it made me feel humiliated that he would make me do this.

"Dirty, aren't they?" he asked. "Just like you." And just like that I loved doing this for him--having him tell me how dirty I was always got me going. I still felt humiliated, but suddenly I was relishing that humiliation.

"All right, that's enough," he said a few minutes later. "Follow me. Crawl."

He began walking towards the bedroom and I crawled after him. He had never made me crawl before and it made me feel so much more submissive that suddenly I never wanted to walk in his presence again.

We reached the bedroom. "Stand up. Hands behind your back." I did, and I felt the comfortingly familiar snugness of my leather cuffs being fastened around my wrists, followed by the sound of a small padlock snapping shut. When he locked my cuffs, I always tugged against them, loving having proof that I really was bound and at his mercy.

"I got something for you," he said, and I looked at the bed for the first time. On top of the bed there was a large black spreader bar, red-and-black leather cuffs that matched the ones on my wrists affixed to each end.

"Lie down and spread your legs," he said. I did. I knew he expected me to spread them wide enough to reach both ends of the spreader bar, and I was both excited and dismayed to discover that this required opening them as far apart as they could go. I could see that this position would become uncomfortable very quickly.

He fastened my ankles to the cuffs and then stood back. I was beginning to breathe more quickly, getting more desperate to beg him to take me with every passing moment.

I looked up at him. This was the first time tonight that I'd gotten to see his face, and I was hit full-force by exactly how gorgeous he was. His large brown eyes behind his thick black glasses were studying me, and I hoped so much that he liked what he saw.

"This is your proper state, slave," he said. "Bound and helpless for your Master. I could do anything at all to you right now and you wouldn't be able to stop me." I knew he was right, and even though I trusted him, it still made me nervous to be reminded that I was, yes, fully helpless.

I had no idea what he planned to do to me, but I certainly knew what I wanted him to do to me--with my pussy so exposed, all I could think about was having him touch me with his long, thin fingers. I didn't have the freedom to masturbate without his explicit permission, so I hadn't gotten any pleasure since the last time I saw him six months ago.

And then suddenly his middle finger was between my legs, giving one quick rub up the length of my slit. But then, just as quickly as his hand had appeared, it was gone. It took all my self-control to not beg him to continue.

"I know what you want without you even telling me," he said. "You want me to finger your soaking-wet pussy some more." He paused to smile at me. "You're in luck, because that's exactly what I'm going to do. But I'm going to make it a little more interesting."

He approached the bedside table and picked something up, then moved over to where I could see him again. I was horrified to see that he was holding a bottle of siracha. He was going to put hot sauce on my pussy? Suddenly I wasn't so sure that I wanted him to finger me after all, but what could I do?

He poured a thick coating of the sauce onto his left hand and approached me. "Now. Just remember that you wanted this, slave," he said, and then he began to rub.

The pain was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. I wanted to scream at him that it was too much, that I couldn't take it, that I needed him to stop. But as unbearable as the pain was, it was still outweighed by my desire to please him. So I remained silent.

But it wasn't just the pain overwhelming the circuitry of my brain. As much as I wanted to cry, it was mixed in with incredibly intense pleasure. The long periods of strictly enforced orgasm denial always had the effect of making me forget exactly what having my pussy touched even felt like, and when I finally got to have pleasure again, I was inevitably astounded by exactly how good it felt. The six months without contact had made being touched even more intense.

After a minute I began to moan. He laughed at me. "Yes, that's my filthy little whore," he said. "So desperate to have your pussy touched that you love it even when it's coming with unbelievable pain."

He was right, of course--I was desperate to have my pussy touched no matter what the price was. But oh god, the pain! I had a reflexive urge to try to close my legs, but the spreader bar prevented that. I was grateful he'd put me in it--I wanted so much to please him, but I still had some instinctual urge to try to protect myself.

"Let the fact that this is causing you pain serve as a reminder that your pleasure is really my pleasure," he said. "The only reason this is pleasurable for you is because your suffering is making me happy." I shuddered. Knowing that I was pleasing him by suffering for him felt incredibly good.

He kept going for a long time. The pain had leveled off now--it was still so overwhelming, but at least it wasn't getting worse. The pleasure, on the other hand, was only getting more intense, and I was beginning to wonder if he was actually going to let me cum. It had been just shy of a year now since my last orgasm, and the idea of having one seemed like some sort of fantastical, unfathomable thing that could only happen in a dream. But what if he let me?

Just when I was starting to feel close, he stopped. Goddammit. I should know better by now than to hope for orgasms, but I always did anyway. Stopping myself from speaking at that moment was harder than it had been all night. I needed to cum. But I knew if I told him that he would say that the only thing a slave needs is to please its Master.

He disappeared for a moment and I heard him washing his hands. I wished he would wash out my pussy too. Now that he wasn't touching me anymore, there was no pleasure to distract me from the pain.

He returned and uncuffed my ankles, but he left my wrists bound. My legs were sore from being spread so long, but I didn't close them, not wanting to do a single thing without being ordered to by him.

"Get up." I did. "On your knees." I dropped to them, happy to be back in the position that made me feel most submissive.

He lowered his tight black jeans and boxers and sat down on the edge of the bed. I felt dangerously close to taking his cock in my mouth without being given permission, but I knew I couldn't. So I just knelt there, trembling slightly.

He took firm hold of my head and pushed me against him. He started rubbing my face against his cock and I could feel it stiffen against me. I whimpered. He kept rubbing and I kept aching for him to actually put it in me. How long was he going to do this? It felt as if the entire night had been one long, difficult test of my ability to restrain myself.

"Open your mouth, slut," he said. Finally! I took him in, feeling sparks shoot through me at the sensation of being filled by him. "Take it as deep as you can."

I started working him in and out of my mouth, ecstatic to see that the daily practice he'd been making me do with my dildo was paying off. I could now take the entire considerable length of him without gagging. This made me doubly happy--I was both thrilled to be able to give him more pleasure and thrilled by the intense sensation of having my throat completely filled by him.

"You're becoming quite the expert little cocksucker," he said. "It's good to see that you understand that your sole purpose is to please me and are working to be able to do that as well as possible." All I really cared about in the whole world was pleasing him, and it made me overjoyed to hear him tell me I was doing it well.

A minute later his hands were on my head again, and my pussy throbbed madly because I knew what this meant. There was something nice about him letting me control what happened when I sucked him because it let me show him how hard I was willing to work to please him, but what I really loved was having him fuck my mouth fast and hard. It felt a million times better than having him in my pussy.

But he wasn't going fast and hard like I needed him to. He was going agonizingly slowly. He knew damn well how much I loved it when he took me that way, so this must just be another way for him to torture me. Even if I'd had permission to speak I wouldn't have had a right to object to this--after all, it was supposed to be about his pleasure, wasn't it? But there was definitely something I got out of it too, and he was keeping it away from me, like this night hadn't already been hard enough.

"This is what your mouth is for, you stupid whore," he said. "I could never let you talk again if I wanted to. You have nothing important to say. All your mouth is is a hole for me to fill with my cock. I hope tonight has reminded you of that." Hard as it had been to not talk tonight, there was a little part of me that was thrilled by the prospect of it being permanent. I knew he didn't intend to actually do this, but I loved the dire threats he sometimes left hanging over my head, reminders of his absolute power.

"Your body does not belong to you," he continued. "Nothing is yours. I have full control over everything you do. I can humiliate you, I can make you suffer, I can fuck your holes, I can remove one of the most basic and essential things about you. I can do absolutely anything to you, and do you know why? Because you are my property."

Hearing him talk to me this way was just making me more desperate to have him fuck my mouth faster and harder. Everything he was saying was making me even more turned on, and I wanted to be fully used right now. But he was still going maddeningly slowly.

He let go of my head so I could breathe, which I badly needed. I'd enjoyed having him in my mouth because it meant I didn't have the ability to disobey him and speak even if I wanted to, but now that I had the chance again I had to summon up all the self-control I had. I wanted to beg him to fuck my mouth harder, and then follow that up by fingering me again until I came. I should be used by now to having him deny me release, but I still ended up losing my mind with desperation every single time we were together.

He grabbed my head again and pushed me back down onto him. His hands felt so strong gripping me firmly like that. It made me feel as if he were a million miles above me.

And then suddenly he was fucking my mouth even harder than he usually did, just like I'd been craving all this time. I moaned, the sound muffled by his cock. This was just what I'd needed.

"This is just what you're made for. This is why you exist. All you're good for is giving me pleasure, because you are nothing but my fucktoy," and on the last word I felt the intense rush that only came from having my mouth filled with his cum. Nothing could ever possibly feel better than knowing I'd pleased him like that.

Having him cum in my mouth always made things hazy and unfocused, turned the world into a soft, beautiful dream. I laid my head down in his lap, blissful.

"Did it feel good to please your Master so much tonight, slave?" he asked.

"Yes sir."



Silence



The online ad intrigued her. Eileen found herself coming back to it again and again. It offered the sale of submissive contracts. Since slavery was illegal and such contracts were basically unenforceable, she wondered exactly what one would get from such a purchase. She had been alone for a long time. The idea of a submissive male to cater to her and pleasure her made her wonder if she had the strength to be a dominant, to command a strong man to her will. And could she inflict punishment? She was not cruel by nature and the thought of deliberately hurting someone did not especially please her. Still, having a submissive man was intriguing.

She had several acquaintances in the D/s culture. She asked to be taken to the sale. She was open with her acquaintances. She was curious. She was seriously considering a sub, but was not sure she would actually...acquire one at this sale. She agreed to be blindfolded for the trip to the sale and allowed the search of her purse and her person to make sure she did not have any recording devices or cameras. The paranoia amused her. Yet, she could understand it. Tolerance only went so far in the mainstream of society. The truly different were not welcome.

The sale was held in a secluded, private house. The prospective buyers were shown to comfortable chairs and offered refreshments. A catalog of contracts was given to each of them. She was not interested in the females. Her tastes were completely heterosexual and there was no allure to having a female submissive.

The submissives were led in. All were nude and shackled. The buyers were encouraged to examine them closely. She matched the contract listings to the men before her. All were strong looking, handsome men of all races and sizes. Tall, short, thin, muscular. Most of them kept their eyes down, only watching from the corners of their eyes. Many bore evidence of punishment. Some had bruises. A few had an occasional scar. Her occasional question was answered with appropriate meekness. Some looked hopeful that she would be a harsh mistress. She was surprised to find that thought distressing. 

Keeping her expression serene, she walked among them, occasionally touching a face or arm. Some flinched and blushed, usually earning a quick swat from the auctioneer. She finally came to a huge man standing silently, statue still, eyes wary. She had seen several other women approach him and handle him roughly. He never moved. His marks of punishment were many and severe. She looked up into his gray eyes. His gaze did not challenge yet did not flinch. He had an inner strength that intrigued her. And there was an odd fragility about him as well. His body was impressively muscled, his raven black hair loose around his broad shoulders, and his obvious endowment made her quiver just a little inside.

Just then, another dominant came by. His eyes suddenly went flat and cold. "No use talking to this one," said the other woman, "he won't talk." The woman sneered, her eyes raking up and down his body. "He's good," she admitted, " but he won't scream and beg and I can't have that. I require complete, total submission." She shrugged. "He's for sale." Eileen saw the deep sadness behind his cold gaze. "If his contract is not bought tonight, I will release him with prejudice," the woman continued. Eileen knew that meant he would be exiled from the D/s culture. The woman moved on. Eileen reached up and touched his cheek. He did not flinch, yet she felt him tense, as if he expected a slap.

"Ladies and gentlemen," came the announcement, "please place your bids." Eileen went back to her chair and wrote out her bid. There was some back and forth bidding on a few of the others, but eventually everyone made their choices. 

The big man seemed surprised that Eileen had purchased his contract. She was given the key to his shackles and he was led over to her. He immediately knelt. She released the shackles, noting that they had been cruelly tight, leaving angry red marks on his wrists. She simply dropped the shackles and gently massaged his wrists to restore his circulation. She felt his tenseness, yet he made no sound. 

"Do you have clothing?" she asked. He nodded. "Please get dressed." He rose, bowed and left her. He returned in a few minutes dressed in jeans, a denim shirt, and sneakers. He had a small suitcase with him. She finished the transaction just as he returned to her.

She took him home. He was the most silent person she had ever met. He moved with the silent grace of a huge cat. She gestured to a chair. He hesitated briefly, then settled gingerly in it. She considered him gravely, a little unsure how to proceed. He was her first submissive, and she had chosen a difficult one. The scars on his body spoke of harsh punishment, yet she felt a great sadness and need in him. She already suspected his muteness was a defense mechanism against the abuse he had suffered. 

"Tell me about your safe word," she said, "and why you do not speak." He looked startled. She handed him a pad of paper and a pencil. He wrote quickly and neatly. When he stopped, he hesitated for a moment, then handed her the pad. She sat back to read.

'I became a submissive seven years ago. My first mistress taught me to pleasure her. She did not tolerate mistakes, so I was punished often and harshly. My safe word was hope. I tried very hard not to use it. One day, she became angry when I used her name in a moment of passion. She whipped me with the harshest lash she had. I took it for as long as I could and then longer, trying to please her with my submission to her punishment. When she did not stop, I used my safe word. She ignored me and kept punishing me. She broke me. I screamed and begged and she did not stop. She ignored my screams. She ignored our safe word. I do not know when she finally stopped. When I regained consciousness, I was still chained and bleeding. I never spoke again.'

Eileen kept her eyes on the pad until she was certain she could control her emotions. Finally, she looked up at him. "How much longer did you remain with her?"

His hands moved. 

"Two more months?" she asked. 

He nodded. 

"And then?" 

Sold, said his gestures. He reached tentatively for the pad. She handed it to him. He wrote more and handed it back to her.

'I loved her and would have married her if she wished it. I gave her my life. She asked for the contract and I agreed. The contract has no termination date. And she made sure each time I was sold, I had a very harsh mistress.' 

Startled, she looked up at him. His gray eyes were steady on hers. She saw the expectation of harshness, the resignation in his calm gaze. He knew he would be forever owned. And pain and punishment was what he had been taught. She took out the contract she had bought and finally read it. His name was Jonah. She met his eyes again. "You have been sent to many harsh mistresses, haven't you?" 

He nodded. 

She leaned back in her chair. "Do you find pain...erotic?" She hoped he did not see her holding her breath. He studied her intently. 

"Do not tell me what you may think I want to hear," she warned, "tell me the truth." 

His head bowed briefly, then shook no. 

She slowly exhaled in relief. She did not want to have to hurt him to have the passion she wished. "I will make you a promise," she said. 

He looked a question at her. 

"I will promise not to abuse you." 

His expression asked, if? 

She smiled gently. "There are no qualifications to that promise," she said. "I may punish you, but I will not, ever, abuse you."

Jonah slipped off the chair and went to his knees before her, his head lowered in submission. She smiled again and stroked his silky black hair. She stood up, motioning for him to stand. He rose gracefully to follow her. She took him to a bedroom. 

"This is your room," she said. "It is your private place, your retreat. We will add to it later. For now, sleep well." She left him to settle in. 

He quickly unpacked his few belongings, took a shower, and laid on the bed, nude. Thinking. She was not what he expected. He had been abused so much that he had forgotten what kindness felt like. And he feared it. Slowly, he fell asleep. Sometime during the night, the nightmare gripped him. He lay on his back, arms over his head and jerked from invisible blows.

She heard the bed creaking and peeked in on him. He was deeply asleep, thrashing in the throes of his dream. His body glistened with sweat. The only sound he made was a soft grunt as he jerked with each dream-dealt blow. As she watched, he arched, his mouth wide in a silent scream of agony. Then the dream released him and he collapsed on the bed. He lay still for a moment, then turned on his side, still asleep. She quietly closed the door. Sad and a bit angry, she went to bed.

Eileen woke the next morning to the smell of coffee. Pulling on a silk robe, she went to the kitchen. He had just finished setting her place at the table. He knelt as she came into the room. 

"Good morning, Jonah," she said. His head bowed. She gestured for him to stand. She looked up into his gray eyes and smiled. "Set a place for yourself, please. I dislike eating alone." 

He blinked in surprise and did as she directed. He served her breakfast and sat gingerly in his place, waiting for her to begin. They ate in companionable silence. She finished and sat sipping her coffee as he cleared things away. 

"I think I will give you a new name," she said suddenly, her eyes twinkling. "I think I will call you Silence."

He smiled suddenly, surprised, appreciating her humor. 

She put down her cup. "I think I would like you to help me with my shower," she said softly. He finished cleaning up quickly then followed her to her bathroom. He stripped quickly and eased her robe from her body. He turned on the water to steamy warmth, helping her into the shower. She handed him the soap. Grey eyes gleaming, he began to wash her with slow sensuality. She stood still, eyes half closed, as his hands caressed her body. He was becoming hugely aroused as he gently massaged her breasts. She trembled when his hand went between her legs and gently rubbed over her clitoris, back and forth, again and again, arousing her. She reached for him, pulling his head down to kiss him with hungry passion. Her hands began moving over his body as they continued kissing. The warm water poured over them, making their skin slippery and warm. His tongue teased hers as his thumb massaged her clitoris harder. 

Moaning deep in her throat, her lips hard on his, she let the building pressure explode. His strong arms held her as her orgasm rippled through her. Her hands tightened on his massive erection as her body slowly relaxed. She leaned against the shower wall, tugging him towards her. 

"Pleasure me, Silence," she moaned softly, "pleasure us both!"

He began pushing his steel hard penis into her. She spread her legs wider to try to accommodate his immense size. Slowly, he spread her, entering her. She was writhing as the sweet pain of his massive penis slowly filled her until he had penetrated her completely. He lifted her up, holding her against the was with his body, then allowed her to slip just a bit. 

"Aaaaaahhhhh!" she moaned as he truly impaled her. Her hips rocked against him as the pleasure built in her again. He began moving slowly in her, the hot friction of his huge penis making her writhe in his arms as he took her higher and higher. Her body spasmed again and again. She looked up into his smoky gray eyes. 

"Yes!" she moaned and he thrust harder into her as his orgasm exploded and his fiery ejaculate poured into her convulsing body. He held her tight as the quivers faded. Then he eased from her trembling body and washed her again. 

He turned off the water and wrapped her in a huge towel, gently drying her. 

She caressed his face, "Thank you, Silence," she whispered. He kissed her palm in reply. She allowed him to dress her, savoring the soft touches of his hands on her body. Then she had him get dressed. She took him shopping. Clothes, leathers, fitness equipment. Then she took him home. She left him to put his things away. She asked him to please remain nude in the house. He bowed and stripped. She watched him, thinking about him. He pleased her greatly. His size and strength kept her imagination in full gear. The morning shower had been...invigorating. She stood up and slowly stripped, watching him watch her. His penis surged to an immediate erection.

She smiled. "Again?" 

He knelt before her and began kissing her body. His lips teased along her ribs, over her breasts. She caressed his silky hair, arching to his lips. 

"Mmmmm," she whispered. She took him to her bed and laid back, allowing him to worship her body with his hands and lips. He caressed her, kissed her, teasing her nipples and clitoris until she arched in orgasm. 

"More!" she moaned. He kissed and licked her to another orgasm. And another. The more he aroused her, the more she wanted him. 

"Mount me!" she demanded, hoarsely, "Hard!" He did, plunging him massive penis completely into her in a single stroke. "Yes!" she cried as she arched into his thrust. "More! Hard!"

He rode her with savage thrusts, taking her to constant, intense orgasm, pounding into her for hours. She thrashed and convulsed, finally gasping, "Yes! Yes!" and he climaxed, pulsing jet after jet of fiery ejaculate deep into her writhing body. The intense orgasm finally faded. She lay limp under his heavy body, holding him tight, savoring the feel of his skin on hers. She kissed him gently. 

"Please, Silence," she whispered, "let your orgasm come when it will. I may not always remember to give permission and I want you to feel as good as you make me feel." 

A soft kiss in reply. He moved his hips against hers. He was still hugely hard in her. 

"Aaahhh, yes!" And he began again. Long, slow movements that took them both higher and higher until another massive orgasm claimed them. He slowly eased his softening penis from her quivering body.

"Stay with me," she whispered as she fell asleep in his arms, content with her new acquisition. Life was certainly going to be more fun.



Silence: A New Beginning



Eileen sat on the sofa reading. Silence was in his accustomed place on the floor leaning close to her knees. He, too, had a book. His concentration was frequently interrupted as she played with his hair. Silence smiled and leaned his head into her touch. Her hand caressed, her fingers tangled in his hair and combed through the midnight softness. 

Silence finally gave up trying to read and just leaned against her knees, falling into memory as she played with his hair. He shivered slightly at the memory of how close he had come to losing that touch. He touched his collar, heavy silver, a thick band around his neck. It was an unusual collar. It settled around his neck easily but did not fasten together or lock. He could remove it anytime. And that was what kept him from doing so. Choice. 

When Michelle had lured him into her suite and had her submissives...her slaves...overpower him, blindfold him, and literally string him up, he had been full of rage. The whipping had plunged his mind back into the abyss she had put him in when he had been hers. Each stroke of the whip was accompanied by vicious comments on how he deserved no better, how only she could give him true pleasure and it was his place to be hers, to suffer for her.

His experience with Eileen had given him the strength to resist Michelle, and nothing she did aroused him. He had heard the whip hit the floor when she threw it away. He didn't know that she had picked up a weighted cat o' nine tails. She intended to maim him, to shred his genitals with the metal-tipped lash and render him permanently impotent, a eunuch. The sudden commotion when Eileen and his parents had burst into the suite confused him. Only the fact that Eileen had managed to put her body between him and the whip had saved him. And he almost threw away that most precious gift.

Eileen's hand was still caressing his hair. He sighed softly and turned his head slightly to gently kiss her knee, then relax his head against her. The last few months had been a new beginning of sorts for both of them. Silence thought it had been harder for Eileen than for him. He was submissive by nature, so the shift to consensual slavery had been fairly easy. Eileen had barely gotten used to having a submissive and now she had a slave. His lips brushed her knee again. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift with the pleasure of her touch.

Eileen was watching him. She had felt his shiver and had seen his hand touch his collar. She smiled and continued to play with his hair. He wore if fairly long, just brushing his shoulders, and the silky softness soothed her. She felt him relax and smiled again, filled with wonder that this huge, strong man was hers, had chosen slavery to be hers.

Eileen gently tugged his hair. Silence moved to his knees, eyes down. A slaves posture. Eileen sighed.

"Silence," she said softly, "look at me." His gray eyes raised to her hazel ones. "I...miss...the way you were...before..." Her eyes were sad, her tone wistful. "I know I accepted you as my...slave..."

Silence had gone pale. Was she sorry she had taken him back? Eileen leaned forward, her hands on his face.

"Please..." she hesitated, "oh, damn, why can't I find the words!"

He was still, eyes searching hers. The way he had been before? Suddenly, he smiled and moved. Eileen squeaked as he swept her up off the sofa and stood. Her arms went around his neck as he lifted her against his chest.

"Oh yes," she sighed as he carried her to her bed. He slowly removed her clothes, his lips on her body as he revealed more and more of her flesh. Her soft moans of pleasure told hem that he had guessed correctly. Eileen's fingers tangled in his hair as she kissed him, tasting him, losing herself in the feel of his body against hers. She pushed against his shoulders. He rolled onto his back with Eileen draped over him. She took his wrist in her hands. He was wearing the leather cuffs she had buckled on his wrists when she took him back. He wore them as often as he could. 

Snick. She had fastened his wrists together and raised them over his head. He heard the soft clink of the chain as she secured him. Her fingers caressed his face. Then she began teasing him. Her hands, her lips, her skin. She used it all to arouse him. She soon had him writhing, his penis swollen and throbbing. She licked the hot tip, causing his hips to rise off the bed. She took her time, her hands smoothing his skin while her mouth and tongue tormented him. His breathing quickened as the pressure built. Suddenly, she sucked on him, pulling him as far into her mouth as she could. The feel of her tongue, the caress of her throat as she swallowed was his undoing. His body went rigid, then his hips jerked as he exploded. Eileen sucked harder, swallowing quickly as his hot sperm filled her mouth.

Silence finally relaxed, trembling a little. Eileen lay curled against him, her hand stroking his still rampant penis, her head pillowed on his stomach. She raised up to look at him. He tugged at his bound wrists, eyes turning smoky with desire. She saw no fear in his eyes and was glad. She had worried that Michelle might have hurt him too much. Again. Smiling, she slid her body along his, skin to skin, until she was looking directly into his eyes. He tugged again, eyes gleaming.

"Shall I release your hands?" she whispered, her lips almost touching his. He nodded. "And what will you do?" He moved his body against hers, slowly, suggestively. "Mmmm," she murmured. "Perhaps I should leave you this way and just go to sleep." He moved against her again and slowly shook his head. "No?" Silence smiled, slow and lazy, rubbing his foot gently along her leg. Eileen wiggled until she lay along his body. She slid her hand along his arms up to his bound wrists. She twined her fingers with his and claimed his lips for a long, hungry kiss. 

Silence could still faintly taste himself on her tongue. He almost groaned, his breath expelling forcefully as she continued to kiss him. She let go of his fingers and released him. His arms went around her and he rolled over, pinning her under his heavy body. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, kissing him with fierce hunger. With a sudden surge of his hips, Silence penetrated Eileen's hot, wet vagina. Her moan of pleasure vibrated against his lips as she took his massive penis deep into her body. He began moving long and slow in her. Her orgasm convulsed around him again and again until he again climaxed, pulsing deep into her. 

For long moments, they lay unmoving except for the occasional quivers of their fading orgasm. Silence was very heavy on her, yet Eileen did not push him away. His weight, the slow softening of his penis still in her, his breath soft in her ear, she savored all of these things. Eventually, he moved so she could breathe easier. Eileen kissed him, murmuring softly. And they slept, bodies still joined, still tangled together. Sometime during the night, they separated. Silence woke briefly and pulled the duvet over them. Then he settled back to sleep, his arm protectively over Eileen.



Silence at 20,000 feet



I knew then I would always remember the next few hours. We were both flying from Los Angeles to Boston on a red-eye flight out of LAX. I had seen her sitting alone at the gate, and I devoured her from afar, taking a seat a few rows back to not look like some sort of midnight stalker at the airport. My own fantasy drowned out the noise coming from the light bustle of the airport at midnight. She was simply stunning. Her brunette hair, tousled from a full-days work, flowed down to her shoulders. Simple make up highlighted her natural beauty. A splash of blush to warm her face, a touch of mild lipstick to highlight her lips. She wore a white button-down blouse, the top few buttons undone revealing a revealing neckline and the tops of her pale white breasts. Encased in a lace trimmed white bra, her ample breasts forced themselves against the material of the blouse, making the blouse semi-transparent in the overhead fluorescent lights, allowing me to see the outline of her breasts against the fabric. A dark skirt covered her upper legs, and her calves were muscular tight encased in nylons as they were tucked underneath her in a comfortable position, taking up almost two seats in her means to relax before the long flight.

For a brief moment, our eyes met. Thinking she caught my glances, I quickly turned away, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable. But, in a moment of weakness, my eyes drifted back to hers, staring at me, tearing into me like a hot knife through butter. I was awoken from my trance to the sound of the reservation desk calling all first class passengers to board the flight. My heart fluttered as we both rose at the request, realizing that we were both in first class for the long night flight. As we headed down the tunnel to board the plane, there was an unmistakable aroma, as I watched her hips gently sway with each step. I chuckled inwardly as I realized that she didn't put her shoes back on for the walk to the plane, simply carrying them in her hands with her suitcase and her blazer. A cool breeze hit us as we boarded the plane, each of us going out separate ways on either side of the aisle. Fortunate for me -- we were sitting across from each other. 

After the normal pre-flight ritual of learning what to do if and when a plane crashed, the plane was in the air. Once the pilot turned off the seat belt light, I figured it was time to hit the mens room, then I'd be able to settle into the flight. As I started to get out of my seat, she once again caught my eye, this time with a smile that could melt an iceberg. She was playing with me -- she knew it, I knew it, and there was nothing I could really do about it on an airplane.

By the time I returned from the bathroom, the stewardess had dimmed the lights inside the plane, allowing the few people in first class the chance to rest on the flight. The beauty of red eye flights are the fact that you leave at night in on the West Coast and you arrive close to sunrise in Boston, making for an odd sleep cycle. That wasn't the case for my mystery woman, who had taken the time to snuggle up with a pillow, blanket and a open window full of the moon shining in. Her face only lit by the light coming from the full moon, gave her an angelic glow. I settled back into my seat, putting the airplane headset on the Jazz channel, hoping to drift off to sleep myself. But I couldn't take my eyes off her -- the stranger across the aisle. Other than an occasional stirring, she seemed so peaceful. As I continued to watch though, there were more and more subtle movements, from her shoulders and especially her arm, as if she was fidgeting under the blanket, searching for something. The possibilities intrigued me -- was she? I had heard about the "Mile High Club" where people had done the deed while flying, but I always thought that took bravery and opportunity. At least the opportunity had presented itself to my mystery lady. The only other people in first class with us were further back and they were already sleeping in the dark. Aside from the occasional trip through by a stewardess, there wasn't a soul in the world that would see her pleasing herself during a long flight. Except me.

I became mesmerized by the subtle manipulations that I could see, or perceived to see. Her eyes were closed, and could only see an occasional movement under the blanked. Was my mind playing tricks on me? Was I thinking I was seeing one thing in the heat of the moment? I took off the headphones to try and hear if she was breathing heavier. Trying to tune out the steady hum of the jet engines, I began to focus on that stunning beauty across the aisle. Her movements became more and move obvious, she was in the process of pleasing herself. I tried to tear myself away from the show that was being laid out in front of me, feeling guilty that I was imposing on her moment of personal pleasure. Her knees would occasionally move, and even caused her feet to poke out from underneath the blanket. I couldn't help but notice she had taken the opportunity to remove her nylons -- allowing her perfectly manicured toes freedom to occasionally curl up with tension. As I returned to her torso and face, I noticed her looking at me! I was trapped -- stuck like a deer in headlights on a dark country road. She glared at me for a moment through thin slitted eyes, then removed her hand from under the blanket and put her finger to her lips, giving me the universal symbol for quiet, then beckoned me over to her seat.

In a trance-like state, I stood up from my seat, looking at the other two passengers, still sleeping, I slowly moved across the aisle, as she leaned forward, not getting up from the seat to allow me room to slide in next to her. I began to say hello, trying to make small talk to get over the nervous emotions that were cursing my body, but she placed her finger over my lips, gently hinting to be quiet once again. This time, a surge of electricity cursed my body. A simple touch placed me in a trance -- she completely had control of me -- with just one touch.

She motioned me to lie down, to share a pillow and the view of the moon. Once I got into a semi-comfortable position, she joined me in what could only best be described as a compressed spoon, but she managed to contour to my form, and almost match me body part for body part. In this position, I couldn't believe the effect she was having on me. My groin, naturally finding this an extremely exciting position, began to stir. With every subtle movement from either of us caused my manhood to begin to expand in an already crowded environment. When she laid her head down, I was engulfed in a heavenly smell of light fruit, a delicate perfume, and an unmistakable tinge of woman -- that smell that makes men's heads turn and women green with envy. A mix of mystery, confidence and allure, capped off with a hint of lust making her one of the most sexy women I've never met. As I took in her scent, I could feel her hand reaching for mine, guiding me underneath her blouse to her smooth, bare abdomen. Her skin, as soft as silk, burned to the touch as I began to tease her belly button with a stray finger. She gently moaned as I continued to move in a deliberate pattern with one or two fingers, teasing her senses and testing the limits. Was this stranger encouraging me to go further? Was I to be a part of this erotic mind game at 20,000 feet, with nothing between us except our imaginations? I decided to put it to the test, by manipulating my hand beneath the waistband of her skirt. I had hoped I wouldn't have to work too hard at this, feeling like a school boy at the dance, trying to cop a feel of the cutest girl in school, and she sensed this. In a flash, she unzipped the side of the skirt with a free hand, allowing my hand all the freedom I needed to reach my destination.

I gently moved my entire hand between her legs, allowing my hand to paint a picture for my mind of what she might be wearing underneath the blanket. Cupping her mound in my hand, I could feel the soft trace of lace panties and the heat of her womanhood piercing the soft-spun material. She was briefly startled by my hand in its current position, but purred like a kitten once she got comfortable again, turning her head towards the moon and closing her eyes. Gently I continued the minor manipulations I had mastered, causing her breathing to quicken and calm, depending on the position of my hand or finger. Occasionally, I might put some pressure just above her vagina with the ball of my hand, adding a little more pressure to our current situation. It seemed liked forever before I made my way into her panties, enjoying the power I had over my stranger. I returned the electric shock from earlier when I let a finger touch her magic spot -- her eyes opening like I prodded her with an electric iron. Her shock turned to comfort once I began manipulating her, gently running two fingers over every warm part of her that I could reach considering our position. Once I began a rhythm, her breathing quickened, in short, labored breaths. Her lips, glistened as she would occasionally lick them, were pursed in a small oval, allowing more moans and raspy breaths escape. She began to mimic the motions of my hand, pushing her loins against my hand, quickly working overtime to bring her to the point of no return, and in a flash -- it happened. Time stopped. She jutted her hips against my hand, her breathing stopped. Turning her head into the pillow, she let out a soft cry of release, as I felt her entire body tense up with release. I continued manipulating her through this lustful convulsion in order to not ruin the moment for either of us. For what seemed an eternity, she kept her head buried in the pillow, not wanting to wake the few other passengers that had unknowingly joined us on this flight of fancy. It wasn't until she turned her head towards me with a knowing smile of completion that I felt like were one and that she had reached the level of completion that she needed.

At that moment, a stewardess came by our position, asking if we were in need of anything, because she was hoping to take a nap on the flight and wanted to make sure we were comfortable. We both appreciated the offer, and I mentioned that we were OK. She just gave us both a sly look, a grin and thanked us for flying. Did she know? Was it a womanly sign between the two ladies? That thought danced through my head as she ventured off behind the curtain to catch some sleep of her own. I had to wonder how many cases of couples like us she caught in the act of passing the time between themselves. My thoughts were jarred by the soft touch of a hand gently massaging my nether-regions, causing me to startle. I slowly released the breath as her entire hand encased my shaft, gently causing me to expand a little more than I thought I already could. A fingernail found the full length of my penis, as my little vixen turned the teasing tables on me, running her finger up and down the shaft. I had already reached the brink of completion during my manipulations of her event, and I was edging closer and closer to the end again when she maneuvered herself to a sitting position, zipped up her skirt, and stood up to compose herself. Momentarily feeling cheated as she straightened her blouse, she looked down at me like a lion stalking its prey. Sexy, slitted eyes peered down at me as she brought my leg to a sitting position. As she hiked her skirt, she knelt between my legs, unzipping my fly and snaking my manhood from its cloth confines. She took a moment to cover her body from floor to my waist with the blankets, shrouding her from any possible passers-by, and then began to manipulate me to my inevitable point of release, slowly stroking me from base to head, gently causing my blood to boil as I lean towards the same window and concentrate on the same moonlit sky that helped bring her to completion.

She quickened her pace, stroking me closer and closer to my point of no return. I gently clear my throat, trying to give her a subtle hint of what's to come, but that only seemed to spur her on more to quicken her pace. Then, at the most appropriate moment, I felt the warmth and wetness of her mouth encase my penis, and I surrendered. A white hot light shined in my brain as I began to explode after an evening of wanton lust between two people who never met. The emotions of the moment brought me to newer heights. Every time I thought I was coming down, another wave of release would wrack my body. I could feel her soft lips manipulating me, coaxing me to fill her further. The pleasureful pain coursing through my body caused me to let out a low moan of completion, but not before a few more manipulations from my stranger.

And with that, she extricated herself from the blanketed confines of her cunning cocoon, coyly raising herself up, looking satisfied and completed. Silently, she excused herself from our seating arrangement and went into the bathroom to freshen up. Upon her return, I encouraged her to lay with me, wrapping my arm around her shoulder as we both drifted off to sleep, only to be awoken by a gentle sunrise and the captain encouraging us to fasten our seat belts for the descent to Boston.

Once on the ground, I wasn't sure what to say, or how to say what I wasn't sure of. Do I make believe nothing happened and just let her go? Do I ask her to breakfast? Do I ask her for her information at least, hinting at a possible future relationship? As we both gathered our items from our respective seats, I was trembling with emotions. Both of us were getting into the aisle together when I went to say the first thing that came to mind, only to be stopped by a gentle index finger to my lips, encouraging me to not say whatever I had intended. As I looked into her eyes, there was a gentleness in her eyes, softly telling me what I already knew deep down inside.

As we began walking down the tunnel to the airport, her soft hand searched for mind, holding it in her gentle touch as we quietly walked together. The tunnel end was coming closer, the hustle of Logan Airport beckoned us. Just before we reached the doors leading to the main airport, her hand released mine, allowing me to open the door to let her through first. Letting a few people through that were behind me, it allowed me the chance to see my mystery woman be greeted by the arms of a handsome man waiting for her return. It was then I fully realized my situation. Was I hurt? Not at all. As I paused to get my bearings, and to get one last look at this angel, I realized I was one of the luckiest men in Boston today, having experienced something every man should experience at least once in his life. A McDonald's beckoned me to my right, as my flight partner began walking away to my left with her friend. And so we went our separate ways.



Silence Bound



Silence woke suddenly, his attempt at movement stopped by the restraints on his wrists and ankles. A soft touch on his cheek made him turn his head. Eileen smiled gently at him. She saw the sudden shiver that went through his muscular frame. She caressed his face again.

"Relax, Silence," she said softly as her hand continued to stroke his hair, his face. "This is something you must accept." She kissed his forehead. "I will be near," she continued. Then she blindfolded him. 

Another shudder went through him. He tugged at the restraints, hesitant at first, then stronger. Soon he was pulling and thrashing as the fear claimed him. 

Her hands were suddenly on his cheeks, holding his head still. "I am here," she said softly. She held his head until he lay still, then withdrew her hands. 

He shivered. Darkness and restraints made the memories surface. What if she left him alone? How long would he be here? Was this punishment? What had he done? He strained to hear. She said she would be near, yet he could not even hear her breathing. Memory. Darkness. Restraints. Left alone until his mistress remembered him or was ready to release him. He had struggled until his wrists and ankles were raw and bleeding. His voice had already gone. What if she left him like the others had? How long? He could not call for help, couldn't beg for release. He was trembling again. He began fighting the restraints again.

"Ssshhh," came Eileen's voice, her hands again caressing his head. Slowly, he stilled. She was still there. Each time his fear of abandonment brought him to frantic struggles, she soothed him. Again and again, until he lay quiet, gasping for air, body still trembling. Darkness. Memory.

"Wait," she said softly. Then he heard the door closed. The sharp surge of fear. Almost, he started to struggle again. He was so tired now. He needed to trust her, needed to allow the fear to leave him. He sighed and forced his muscles to relax. He had no idea how long he waited. A few minutes? An hour? More? Then he heard the door again.

"Very good," she said softly, noting that he had remained still. Then she removed the blindfold. The room was dim, yet he still blinked several times until he could focus. She had a basin of warm water and a cloth. She gently cleaned the sweaty moisture from his body. He found himself relaxing more as she cleaned him, her touch soothing him, calming him. She set the basin aside and sat beside him on the bed.

"Now we will begin," she murmured. She began touching him, her fingertips moving over his body. She began at his bound wrists, moving slowly down his arms, across his shoulders. She caressed his face. Her hands moved over his chest, down over his stomach. His breathing was heavier. He tugged a bit on his bonds. He wanted to touch her. She was arousing him, making his skin hot. Her hands went over his hips and down his legs. He tried to move to her touch. He wanted her to touch his penis. He was forgetting that he was bound, only his inability to touch her reminding him.

She lay next to him, her head on his shoulder, her hand moving over his chest and stomach. Her lips began nibbling on the side of his neck. Her skin was so soft and warm against him. Her lips moved along his jaw. Feathery kisses that heated his blood. She touched his lips with hers, soft, hot, her tongue teasing his. She looked into his gray eyes now smoky with desire. She kissed his chin, his throat, her lips leaving a fiery trail along his chest. She straddled his hips, his now hugely erect penis in front of her. She began caressing his hot length. 

Then she mounted him, positioning herself over his massive erection. Moaning softly, she slowly impaled herself. His hips strained up toward her as she took his steely shaft inch by inch into her tight warmth until he was completely sheathed in her. He felt the spasms of her first orgasm pulse around him. Then she began raising and lowering herself on him, her head back, her eyes closed as she rode him, taking him deep into her convulsing body until he began to thrust his hips upward, jerking against her, his fiery ejaculate pouring into her. With a sigh, she collapsed on him, the echoes of their orgasm slowly fading. 

He lay quietly under her, his body now quivering only with fading passion. He closed his eyes, his breathing slowing as he slipped into sleep. She felt him relax into sleep and gently disengaged herself. She released him, easing his arms and legs into more comfortable positions. She covered him and let him sleep. 

When he woke again, he at first thought he had dreamed. He threw back the cover and started to get up. That's when he saw the restraints. A brief stab of apprehension went though him, then faded. It had not been a dream.

The door opened and Eileen came into the room. He touched one of the restraints, his eyes asking the question.

"Yes, Silence," she said, "you were restrained." She watched him. "Does that bother you?"

He considered the question, then shrugged, indicating confusion.

Eileen moved closer to him. He moved as if to wrap his arms around her, then stilled. She stood between his knees and gathered him close, holding his head to her breast. She felt his sigh as his arms went around her. "Confused, my Silence?" she murmured. She felt his nod. She stroked his dark head. "Restraint should be a way to explore joy," she said, "not the kind of torture that freezes the spirit." His arms tightened. "It was difficult at first, wasn't it?" she whispered, her hands caressing him. A nod. "And now?" 

He held her, his gaze held by hers. Suddenly the idea of restraints no longer made him cold. He smiled up at her. He reached for one of the restraints and offered it to her. Her smile of pleasure warmed him. She held his face in her hands and kissed him slow and deep. 

"Yes, my Silence," she whispered, "I will bind you again. Later." They lay back on the bed, arms around each other. "When you could not move," she murmured, "what did you want to do?" Her lips teased his. "Show me."

His hands began to caress her over her back and down her hips. 

"Mmmmm," she breathed, moving her body against his. He took his time, touching, kissing, tasting her, arousing her. When he entered her, she arched against him, her body writhing in spasm. He took her orgasm higher until she convulsed in constant spasms and his fiery ejaculate poured into her. Then they lay tangled together, letting the feelings fade slowly. She stroked his hair as he lay against her breast. She sighed, sated, content. His lips nibbled her breast. Then he too sighed. 

And they slept.



Silence Broken



I've never been a real fan of camping, so when Austin suggested we'd go with another couple we were friends with. I have to admit, the first thing going through my mind was "No!" Still, I adore Austin, and it would simply break his heart if I tried to get out of this weekend. So instead of turning him down, we decided to meet in the middle. The weekend long trip, turned into one night in the woods. Now perhaps there is something I should share with you. Austin and I are very sexually active. In fact, hardly a night goes by that we do not make love, or pleasure one another at least once! Since the other couple thought it would save on space for us to share one of those large two room tents. I realized I would have to give up a night of our passion. This may make me sound bitter, even mean...but I didn't want to give it up! We were in the point of our relationship where we needed these nights of passion.

Eventually Friday afternoon rolled around, and Austin was busy trying to brighten my spirits. Promising me that he would make tonight up to me somehow. I had my doubts, but as he packed me into the Jeep with the rest of the camping items, I had to admit things looked a little better. There was just one last stop. Picking up our friends Amanda, and Ronnie. They were a very "down to earth" sort of couple. On more than one occasion we had caused them to blush because of our public displays of affection. To keep things easier on the ride to our spot, I sat in the back with Amanda, while Austin and Ronnie sat up front. They spoke of hunting, and other sports while Amanda and I chatted about the newest arrivals to the daycare center where we work.

Half an hour passes, and we finally arrive to the spot Austin had picked out. It's simply Breath-taking! All four of us scramble from the Jeep in order to better admire the area. Lush green trees, soft grass, a perfectly set up campfire, and off in the distance there was a babbling brook. After unpacking, wet set up the tent, and then spent the rest of the night drinking beer, and roasting food over the open fire. The conversation was pleasant, we each took turns telling ghost stories, and other little spookables. Finally Amanda and Ronnie decided to call it a night, and when Austin and I ran out of beer, we quickly followed.

I change into my favorite pair of black shorts, and a matching black t-shirt. Austin wearing just a pair of red boxers, and a white t-shirt. Even in that he looked so sexy. I couldn't take my eyes from those beautiful shoulders, and strong arms. One of the first things which had drawn me to him. His arms reminded me of the strength I needed, and he always offered comfort. So when I lay upon my side, and he curls behind me I feel his arms wrapped about my waist. Perhaps I would be ale to live without a night of sweat, screaming, and pleasure. Such thoughts were quickly pushed aside when Austin's hand began to move lower. Strong fingers pushing past the waistband of my shorts. My body shivers on reflex, hips pushing back against his. His head lowered to my ear, and I could feel his breath against my skin as his words came out in a whisper.

"Do you want it Dawn? Beg..."

A whimper slips past my lips, and I softly moan for him to continue. Fingers moving down farther, letting the tips brush along my quivering pussy. Already the soft folds were kissed with moisture, and it was hard to breathe. Wanting more, needing more...Who had I been trying to kid? I was his perfect little Nympho and we both knew it. I could sense him smiling, even in the dark. His fingertips barely slipping past my pussy lips to press against my clit. It causes my body to arch slightly. Grinding my pussy closer to his hand.

"Come on Dawn, you can do better than that."

It was then that I knew what he wanted, and now I couldn't help but smile myself. Parting my lips, I allow my tongue to slip fourth and moisten the pouty tiers before speaking a bit louder now.

"Please Austin, please make me cum."

At my gentle urging, his fingers move deeper, in and out and he starts to fuck my pussy. It felt amazing, and I spread my legs apart for him to have a better entry point. Instead of moving harder, he removed his hand instead. Pushing me down onto my back, removing my shorts , and the t-shirt. Both items thrown at that thin divider which separates our room from our friends. Like a primal animal, he moves atop me. Mouth opening, only to close about one hard nipple, and then the next. It causes my flesh to heat with a blush, and I press up against him. Moaning his name in pleasure, fingertips tangling within his hair.

"Good Girl Dawn, Tell me what you want."

Another whimper, and I tug at his hair a bit harder this time. Hips pressing up against his own, in a silent plea for more. However, this wasn't what he desired, and he kept on looking down at me until I was forced to speak.

"Oh please, please fuck me!"

That lazy smile turned into a grin, and he quickly shed his own clothing. Placing the head of his cock into me, looking down and waiting. Once again I moaned loudly, crying out his name in pleasure and desperation. Finally he thrust his hips forward. That cock filling me to the very brink, and causing an instant wave of pleasure. All of his teasing making it impossible for me to hold off any longer. He didn't seem to mind, as he just continued to fuck me harder, and harder. The entire tent trembling with the force of our love making. Within moments I could feel his cock flexing, and then filling me with his hot cum. Oh it felt divine, and it sent me spinning into another climax of my own.

Afterwards, he laid atop me, keeping that cock in it's proper home even as we fell asleep. When we awoke, much later the next day...We found our tent-mates already up and going about their day. They found it impossible to look at us without blushing, and then quickly turning away. While a part of me felt bad, another realized that knowing they could hear us, had been that much of a turn on. When Austin and I got home that night, we talked about it, and agreed we would have to try something along the same lines again soon.