1 comments/ 26662 views/ 0 favorites Need By: ~¤MzJones¤~ She said nothing. There was no one to say anything to. She looked over at Shane. He looked almost like an angel beside her. The moon caressing his skin as it slipped through the burgundy curtains making it seem almost luminescent. His pale blue eyes hidden by his slumber. She could still see them though, in her mind. The way they were when she first saw him. He stood out in the club like a wild flower on the side of a volcano. His beauty made only more visible by the absolute lack of beauty in the people around him. They all seemed to be in pain some how. Their eyes blackened by too much make up, too much heroin or too much of an angry lover. It was too much all together. Their clothing, as black and decaying as their spirits, bound them together into a blinding blur of grieving souls. Callie didn't know why she was there. She had stopped going to places like The Dungeon years before when she realized her needs could not be truly fulfilled by the Absinthe soaked troglodytes that inhabited the club scene. But then there he was. No make up , no green nail polish, or dyed black hair. Just combat boots, black jeans and a fading Ramones T-shirt. And those eyes, Blue. That word didn't do justice to them. They were a shade of blue that can only be seen on a bitter arctic morning in the fading lights of the Aurora borealis. Or in the eyes of this beautiful man. He reached for her hand and she took his. He led her through the labyrinth of bodies before them. Callie's mind raced. "Not him. Not tonight. Please." He pushed her through the steel doors to the alley. He turned her to face him and said with conviction. "I have been waiting for you, You are my soul mate." Callie giggled, not only at what would have been an obvious pick up line had it come from anyone else, but because he could never know just how ludicrous that statement was. "My name is Shane, come home with me. I need to make love to you" "What could this boy know of need?" Callie mused. He took her hand and led her away from the club. She couldn't speak. She just followed him. The sounds of the clubs music fading with each moment. Still silent Callie thought " Maybe tonight could be different…It hadn't been so long. She could wait one more night, Couldn't she?" "Callie." She whispered. He turned back to her "What?" "My name is Callie." "Callie" he breathed as though he were tasting her name. "Well, Callie don't worry you are safe with me." She sighed "Was he?" She couldn't remember much else of their walk to his apartment. It must have been at least twelve blocks before they reached the ancient building, an old warehouse turned artist space and cheap apartments. He let go of her hand only to first unlock the main door and than the one to his apartment. The door opened to reveal a small studio apartment. It was not unlike her own. Both decorated in shades of burgundy and black. Typical Gothic nouveau In the corner was a mattress enveloped in black satin sheets and a burgundy velvet coverlet. He led her right to the bed, without a word, and began removing her clothes. Her emerald dress fell to the floor with little effort. Her snowy skin glowing in the darkness. Her breasts seemed to fill with desire, a sensation she thought was long gone. He began kissing her. Covering her skin with his mouth as though he was painting her flesh with his tongue. His own clothes seemed to melt away into the darkness. His body was hot against her. She feared he would sense her coldness, hoped he would blame it on the cold autumn air. She could feel his erection pulsing against her thigh. She wanted to run. She moaned as he reached between her thighs and prayed that her want for him would overpower her Need. Her pulled her down to the bed. Her body on top of his. Then reached to slide his cock inside of her. It was as though she was being filled with fire. Tears began to burn their way down her cheeks. Callie was frightened. She didn't think she could still cry. She pushed it all away, her thoughts her fears. She began to ride him slowly. But she couldn't control herself. Her rhythm became wild. Pulsating with the beat of his heart faster, faster , faster , more. She pumped him with such force that with each downward thrust the air was forced out of his lungs in a rough moan. He reached up to stoke her amber hair. Tugging lightly at first than pulling as he got closer to coming. He began screaming her name and sat almost upright as he came. Pulling her hair so hard it snapped back her head, opening her mouth. It was at that moment, she thought, he had seen her fangs. Callie shook her head as if it would wipe away the memory of not only last night but of the last 400 years. She slid out of the bed and pulled her dress on tying it loosely. She couldn't waste anytime, it was almost dawn. She opened the door and stepped out into the dark hallway. Looking back, something she never did, at Shane's form ,pale and weak, under the sheet, She closed the door and began the walk home. She was tired, needed rest and "Tonight," she thought "I must feed." Need My special thanks to Violent Intimacy, a volunteer editor here at Literotica, for editing this story and for working with me to get it "just right". This is a story that I wrote to my Love based on both previous experiences and the muse of an erotic dream. Originally it was intended for his eyes only. I hope you enjoy it. Need I'm so tired tonight. Not physically really, it's more a sort of mind-numbing weariness. Tired of what, I don't know. I haven't slept well in weeks so maybe I need more exercise. Perhaps the morning walks aren't cutting it. I take a deep breath, hold it for a moment, and then blow it out slowly trying to let go of some of the tension in my neck and shoulders. I shift around in the seat and feel...twitchy. The drive home from work is only twenty minutes or so and I'm just about there. I realize I've driven the entire way without memory of the individual turns. I do it often when there's a lot on my mind, but tonight there's nothing of significance weighing on me. Pulling into the driveway at 7:15 I see you've beaten me home -- the outside light is on. The boys never think to do that. My limbs feel like lead as I climb out of the van and move slowly toward the door feeling directionless. What's up with me?! I need to snap out of this. Things have been a little flat between us lately and I wonder what kind of mood you're in. When I enter the house it's quiet. The boys must upstairs on the PS2. "Hi, Baby," you say as you stroll into the room. "How was the drive?" Vaguely I register your good mood and barely murmur a response. Kicking off my shoes I begin flipping through the mail. Again I'm struck by how quiet the house is. "What are the boys doing, Love?" I ask. "They're not here, Baby. Their dad took them for the night." "Oh, OK," I respond. Then with distracted concern, "But it's a weeknight." "I know, Baby," you say. "He said he'll get them to school in the morning." You step around behind me and begin squeezing my shoulders. "I thought you could use some relaxation time." Sighing, I feel the tension there begin to loosen. Your strong hands work their way down, and at their insistence I allow my arms to fall to my sides, the bills clutched in one hand and momentarily forgotten. I lean back against you briefly as you grasp my wrists and wrap them around me for a snug hug and a kiss at the side of my neck. I sigh. "Mmmmmm, that feels nice." Then I find myself wondering what's on TV tonight. As you unwrap my arms and gently pull them behind me I remember it's CSI, and I wonder if it's a new episode. My ears barely register the sound of clinking in your pocket, a sound like loose change but a bit different. Your warm hands leave mine for a moment while you kiss my neck again, only to return and securely grasp my wrists. By the time my ears register the ratcheting clicks it's too late to free myself from the metal cuffs you've quickly snapped on. For a moment I want to giggle because they are the "toy" cuffs the boys use when playing "Cops & Robbers." Before I have a chance to voice the fact that they don't require a key to open them, you tug my startled body off balance and back against you. "But we both know my Baby doesn't relax the same way most people do." Your voice is laced with menace. "Mark, no!" The forced yelp explodes out of me as the bills fall to the floor. My heart is already pounding furiously. "Oh yes, Heather. Absolutely yes! You need this. I need this." "But I can't!" I argue. "Why can't you Baby?" you ask as your hands come around my body, probing and squeezing forcefully. I try to think of a reason but realize I don't have one. The blood rushing in my ears is almost deafening now. Your hands grasp my breasts through my blouse and knead them harshly, pinching the nipples roughly through the fabric. I stumble backwards, trying to get my footing as I'm half-dragged, moaning, the few feet toward the sofa. Helping me stand upright you knock the small pillow on the sofa out of the way and underneath is my little wicker basket, the one I keep the remotes in. My glance flies to the coffee table and I see its original contents dumped out on the surface. Looking back at the basket my gaze briefly registers the roll of duct tape. My stomach tightens viscerally at the sight of it. "Be still," you command as you release me. The last vestige of my ego asserts itself, and I take a step to turn around. "Don't test me!" you bark as you grasp my shoulder and snap me around facing away from you. My knees weaken a bit as excitement threatens to overwhelm me. The sound of my harsh breathing seems to fill the room and I try to quiet it some, taking deep breaths as you've taught me. Your breathing sounds much like mine, I realize. You turn me around roughly to face you and reach over my head with the blindfold. It's been set to fit exactly around my head since you got it last year so it needs only to be fastened. As it slides down you pause briefly to lean in and kiss my eyelids tenderly. Looking me in the eyes intensely, you slide it down over my gaze and run your fingers over the edges to ensure its placement; I hear the tiny click as the fastener closes snugly. The brief moment of tenderness catches me off guard. Moments later I hear the duct tape. "Open, Baby," you command. I open my mouth obediently and a damp cloth is tucked in followed by the tape. I feel both strips of tape being secured at the same time and I wonder if you've pre-torn them and placed them together in anticipation of this. Why not the ball or the ring? I wonder. Then my attention snaps back to you as you drag me back against you and begin mauling my breasts again. My pussy is throbbing and as my weight shifts the movement of the air chills the soaked crotch of my panties. I groan deep in my throat as streaks of pleasure and pain rocket through me, my breathing hampered by the airtight gag. Your control is overwhelmingly assuring and exciting. You seem unaware of my pleasure and are fully caught up in taking from me. Take Love, I think. Take it all. You grasp the edges of my blouse and pull them apart forcefully. I hear the buttons pop and land around the room. Your hands close over my bra-covered breasts again and I feel your fingers slide around the connector in the middle that holds the cups together. "Do you have any special affinity for this garment, Baby?" I shake my head no and in a flash the brief scream of ripping fabric cuts through the sound of our breathing. I hear jingling and recognize the sound of the nipple clamps. I've no doubt they're the clovers. You want me to hurt and you know very well that their levered hinge causes them to tighten when the chain is pulled and that their bite is the most brutal. Your fingers pinch my nipples harshly bringing a strangled cry from me. Then the sharper pinches of the clamps follow, bringing an aching throb to each nipple in moments. You tug almost carelessly at the connecting chain to maneuver me around again, and groan in satisfaction at my distressed whine. Your movements are rougher than what's necessary to get me to comply, perhaps even deliberately so. You want me to feel taken and violated even though I'd gladly give to you. And I love feeling taken. Grasping my bound wrists, you sharply maneuver me to the edge of the couch's back and force me to bend over it by pulling my bound wrists up and away from my body. My throbbing nipples meet with the sofa's firm back cushion much sooner then I expect. Did you move the cushion... prop it up maybe? Fiery pain courses through me, and tears spring to my eyes. You grind your erection into my skirt-covered cleft and leverage my chest more deeply into the cushion, causing a painful moan to shudder through me. "Yes!" grates out from between your teeth, the 'y' sound drawn out; your other hand works my skirt up. When my satin-clad cheeks are exposed you give one an impossibly sharp slap. Both the sensation of the blow and the reverberating jolt in my tortured nipples bring a desperate cry. You don't seem to be interested in the resulting warmth or color. Grasping the strip of fabric that covers my cleft and crotch, you bunch it together and tug it up sharply so that it cuts into my valley, tugging at it until I moan painfully. Then pulling it aside you release my wrists and seem to crouch behind me. I feel your hands grasp my cheeks painfully, your fingers digging in sharply and spreading them, and then I shriek as your teeth sink into the tender area just beside my anal opening. The shriek escalates into a stifled scream when I fear you'll actually take the flesh with you and my fingers tighten into impotent claws. I begin weeping and struggling to breathe when your jaw releases me. Vaguely I'm aware of the sound of a zipper coming down. Then my cheeks are harshly spread again, the wet cord of my panties held aside with a thumb. Your pulsing erection slides once up along my cleft. Then you pull back and change the angle to slide it down along my partially exposed and dripping pussy. Desperately I press back the little I can, trying to get you inside me. I hear your satisfied chuckle as you poke around teasingly at the slick entrance, but don't penetrate. Then suddenly the head of your cock is pressing at my anal opening, forcing its way in. My head snaps back at the painful intrusion. With one hand you reach forward and harshly grasp the knot of hair at the back of my head. The pussy juice on your cock has already evaporated and your entry is dry. I try to relax but my senses are overwhelmed by pain and sensation and I can't focus. Your hand holds my head in place, pulling steadily as you push your cock slowly but forcefully into my rectum. My pain-filled, guttural groan only serves to encourage you. Once you've fully penetrated you grate out, "Take me." Obediently I bloom out my muscles and feel them settle and grasp your rigidity, pulling you in deeper. The path the ripple travels is tacky and the movement drags along the unlubricated flesh. You say nothing, but groan deeply and release my hair. Somehow your hands grasp my hips and spread my ass-cheeks at the same time, and before I've had a chance to adjust, you begin grinding deeply in my rectum. The waves of pain from the penetration are still radiating up my spine and around my ribcage, and I can barely breathe. You do not intend to draw this out. Your grinding becomes more intense right away. Below the blindfold my cheek rubs against the upholstery of the cushion and my nipples scream at the fresh agitation. You adjust your angle and the abrasion at my opening becomes severe. The cool dampness makes me wonder if your bite drew blood, and if you are tasting it right now. The thought of my blood on your tongue sends a thrilled shiver through me. Please taste me Love... every part of me, anything you wish. Just take... please take from me. Your pubic hair chafes the bite-tenderized flesh and my groans and whimpers become a steady cadence with your grinding. Within minutes your balls empty their seed into my bowels. Withdrawing your still tumescent member from my rectum you tug me up sharply and roughly knead my shoulders. I hadn't noticed how much they ached and I realize that I don't care. I don't want to be considered. I exist only for this moment and for you, for whatever you desire. Backing me up and pressing my back to the wall, you remove the first clamp without ceremony. The frenzied cry that rises in my chest mutates into a hysterical scream when your mouth closes over the nipple, sucking and chewing on it painfully. My body convulses in response, not knowing whether to press into or pull away from its antagonist. Now I realize why you put me against the wall... my reaction is uncontrollable. Sometimes you want me to "accept" the pain and move into it. Tonight you want my suffering... and you want me blitzed by it, unable to think. While still biting on that sensitive nub, the clamp on the other nipple is released. Another scream rises up as your teeth switch their torturous routine to the other breast. My body jerks around like a marionette puppet. My knees buckle and I begin sliding down the wall. That sadistic mouth follows me and strangled sounds of pain intermingle with snorted breaths; then finally your hot mouth leaves my nipple and you stand. "Get up!" you order. My wobbling legs struggle to help me stand. Without my arms to aid me, it's very difficult and you do not offer assistance. I feel your eyes on me as I struggle, leaning against the wall and pushing up. I know my struggle arouses you. I feel your saliva drying on my throbbing nipples, and the wetness from the tears that have escaped the blindfold on my face. I feel the tears that have trickled from my nose dripping off my chin. My chest heaves with the strain and my body is damp with sweat. When I'm finally standing you turn me roughly around and push me against the wall. Individual cuffs are fastened around each wrist. Why are you doing that? When they're fastened, you pull me away from the wall and walk me to the kitchen doorway and release my wrists from the handcuffs. "Reach up and hold the corners of the door molding." Your voice is devoid of emotion. When I do, I feel you secure them to... what? You chuckle knowingly. "I installed these eyebolts today, Baby." Then you put my play collar on, fastening it snugly. My ankles are cuffed apart on what is probably a spreader bar. You begin pinching at my swollen nipples again. I whimper and my body tries to arch away from your fingers but there's nowhere to go. The sharp pinch of the clamps follows but I don't hear any jingling chain. In moments I feel something cool pressing between my breasts and I think it must be the stretcher or "Tower of Pain" we'd often seen in the catalogs and mused about purchasing. Some insidious, sadistic person created a device to be used to tug at a victim's nipples while using their own body to brace against for tension. It's merely a narrow plate to brace against the breast-bone with an adjustable cross-shaped rod protruding out from its center. Two clover-clamps are fastened to either end of the cross piece and by turning the wing-nut at the top of the cross, the distance below the cross piece can be shortened or lengthened, adjusting the tension on the nipples. The jostling of my breasts is excruciating as the clamps are fastened to the contraption and I feel the heavy flesh being pulled away from my body by their swollen tips. I start a long, low, drawn-out moan as the aching begins. You tighten it as much as is possible to still allow any movement of my body to cause painful bouncing. I feel your hands cup their fullness and lift them some. Then you release them quickly and seem to be satisfied at my alarmed squeak. I'm left alone for a moment. The duct tape is beginning to peel; it can't adhere to the damp flesh of my face any longer. You've already noticed this because when you return I feel you peeling the tape off. Before it's removed you say, "Not a word, understood?" When I don't respond immediately, you grasp my hair painfully and pull my head back. I feel your breath on my face as you repeat, "Understood?" with quiet danger. Wincing, I nod yes as best I can. You release me roughly and finish peeling the tape off. After the cloth is removed I feel the ring gag pressing against my lips. I don't wait for you to tell me to open my mouth; I just do it automatically. At least I'll be able to breathe, I think. You fasten it tightly and I'm left wondering what's next. Each breath reminds me of my tortured nipples so I try to breathe shallowly. I feel a tickle on my inner thigh and realize that my pussy has actually begun to trickle, or "drool" as you like to say, and that the wetness of your cum is working its way out of my sore opening. I feel your warm hand on my ankle encouraging me to step back. When I've taken a few hobbled steps you press at my lower back indicating that you want me to bend at the waist. You work my skirt up even higher and step back. I hear a sharp slapping sound and wonder what you're using to make it. CRACK! The sudden sharp sting across both buttocks takes my breath away. The strap! It's your leather strap. When I gasp the clamps tug painfully and the flesh bounces around from the blow. Fuck, you really ARE a sadist! The next minutes are a blur of heat, pain, and predicament. The hallway clock chimes eight times. Your blows never become regular enough for me to find pleasure in them. You return to the sweet spots over and over until they are on fire. The backs of my thighs are aflame as well. Your blows stop every now and then while you pinch and prod the scarlet welts you've created. The lewd stream of saliva I feel running from my chin and down my body is all but forgotten in the hailstorm of sensation. Each time any area begins to feel numb you move away from it to allow it to re-sensitize. Then you return several minutes later to elicit fresh howls of pain from me. Eventually you get the crop and use it to torture the sweet spots even further, lifting each buttock for better access. You expand the spreader bar between my ankles and I feel you go down between my legs. Lying on your back on the floor, you crop the insides of my thighs, each blow causing my knees to turn-in in an effort to deflect it. Then taking hold of the crotch of the panties you finally tear them open. Now, lying on your back again, you tap at my swollen, wet pussy with the crop's tip, sending sharp jolts of sensation through me. Putting it aside, you grasp my thighs and lift your mouth to my slit. Your tongue slides along its folds teasingly between the inner and outer pairs of lips, running from opening to clit on one side and then again on the other. My hips buck into you in frantic desperation. For just the briefest moment your tongue presses firmly on my clit and pleasure explodes in me, eliciting a deep moan. Then your mouth is gone and you are chuckling. Moments later your voice is in my ear. "Tonight is about what I want Baby... and tonight I want you to hurt... and tonight I want you to suffer... and tonight, I want you to want." The last word rumbles out menacingly and sends a shudder down my spine. "There's something else I want Baby," you say as you resume your position between my legs and begin tapping my clit rhythmically with the crop again. The tapping is almost gentle and I begin to wonder if I'll be able to cum as I roll my hips in time with it. "You know what that is Baby?" Tap- tap- tap- I moan softly as the pleasure takes me over again. "It's more like something I don't want Baby." Tap- tap- tap- A tickle of fear runs down my spine. "I don't want you to cum Heather." Tap- tap- tap- "In fact Baby, I plan to keep you from cumming for days!" Crack! The crop lands harshly on my mound and I gasp and cry out. The blows get increasingly harder as my swollen clit exposes itself to the torture. I shriek and shudder; my entire body sweating and large drops of saliva plopping on the floor. You pause once to reposition the clamps and listen to my renewed cries of pain, talking softly about how much my suffering arouses you. Soon my screams become silent and my body shudders uncontrollably. Visible only to your eyes is my bruised and welted pussy, swollen obscenely. When it swells to the point where it seems to be protecting its charge, you reach up and tug it open to further expose my clit to the crop's vicious tip. You don't stop until I'm hanging limply and weeping silently. You stand and go to the fridge and I hear you pouring a drink. Moments later you're removing the gag and holding a glass to my lips. As the cool water slides down my throat your other hand caresses my raw genitals, your fingers gently insinuating themselves into the tight seams between the puffy tissues. My wounded hiss interrupts my respite. The blindfold is tugged up a bit as you raise your fingers to my face, glistening and tinged slightly pink. Need "You've bled for me twice tonight Baby," you say as you press a finger into my mouth for just a moment. The salty, metallic taste shocks my salivary glands into a painful squirt. Then you place that same finger and the others into your own mouth where you suck and lick at them, looking intently into my eyes all the while. Another draw of the cool water refreshes me some and shortly the clamps are removed, and the stretcher and spreader bar taken away. With the blindfold back in place, my arms are released and you guide me back to the sofa. You fasten the cuffs back together behind my back and push me down into a kneel. You clamp my nipples one more time but with the rubber tipped clamps, running the connecting chain through the ring in my collar. I hear you adjusting the tiny screws. My jaw aches and I'm working it a bit to stretch the muscles out some. Seconds later the smooth head of your cock is at my lips. "Open, Baby," you say, and when I do you slide it all the way in gagging me outright. I close my lips around you and suck, tasting the slightly crusty vestiges of your cum and my rectum on you. I moan softly, enjoying this service, but you don't allow it for long. You plunge in deep and I gag again. I feel the tears seeping into the blindfold. You move shallowly a few more times and then plunge again. I realize you've begun a rhythm and that I can predict when you'll move deeply and I start anticipating the deep strokes. Reaching down you grasp the chain running through my collar on either side and begin using it like reins to steady me when you sink in. Soon you seem to get impatient and take hold of my hair with both hands, pulling sharply. You start fucking my throat. I try to suck and stroke you but your movements are too deep and the vacuum too great for me to maintain. You don't seem to care. I cover my teeth with my lips and push my tongue out and you begin a forceful throat-fucking. Sometimes you press in deep and hold my head to your groin until I fear I'll pass out, then withdraw for me to breathe and continue on again. I learn to swallow rhythmically. The movement causes my throat muscles to ripple and clench and the urgency of your movements tells me you'll cum soon. Minutes later you push deeply in past my sudden gag reflex, and hold there while you cum, my throat rippling around you and "swallowing" your semen... milking you. "Clean it," you say as you reach down for the clamps. "Get me hard again." Were you any other man I might think the task of renewing your erection so soon was impossible. But, in our earliest discussions about sexuality you talked of tantra and how you had learned to take control of your orgasms, ejaculations, and erections. Most times it's a blissful benefit to loving you. Other times you use it to torment and spend me until I'm beyond exhaustion. I begin sucking and licking your still half hard cock while foamy spittle runs down my chin. You remove the clamps slowly while still occupying my mouth. Is this an exercise in trust? The tips stick to my sensitive flesh making it feel as though the skin is being peeled off. You pinch at them gently to restore the circulation and I moan in pain around your cock. Pulling yourself from my mouth, you guide me over to and face down on the couch. My nipples are so tender now that they hurt almost as much as they did when pressed against the cushion with the clamps. I grunt loudly as the air is forced out of my lungs. The sound of the Vaseline cap coming off the jar reaches my ears and I cringe. I feel so spent. The cool jelly is smeared into my cleft and rubbed into my opening and I hear the greasy sound of you coating your cock with it and then tossing the jar aside. You wipe your hands clean, arrange my legs with one knee on the floor and the other sprawled out a bit, spread my cheeks harshly, and without pause push straight up into my bruised rectum. A long, low "fuuuuuuuuuuck" comes from my throat as you push in balls-deep. Then taking hold of my hair in one hand and pressing me deeper into the sofa with the other hand between my shoulder blades, you begin to butt-fuck me. At first the pain is blinding but slowly it fades and the pleasure takes over. I'm secure when you fuck me this way and it feels so goddamned good. You move as you like and rearrange me the way it suits you best, all the while searching for the angriest welts to fiddle with. Eventually you turn me on my back and force my legs way up. I hiss almost as much as I moan. The fire in my buttocks is being abraded by the sofa fabric; the welts on my thighs, by the hair on yours. You lean forward and pull the blindfold up, wanting, I believe, to see the pain in my expression. Then as I look up into your eyes, you arch your abdomen in and scrape up along my devastated pussy while grinding deeply into my guts. My eyes close instinctively and I grimace as the pain and pleasure flood over me. You still and grasp my face in your hand turning it somewhat harshly up to yours. When my eyes pop open, you begin moving again. I understand now that you want me to look at you while you hurt me. "Is this cock hurting you Baby?" you ask. You already know that it is. I moan softly and nod, knowing that even though you know, it arouses you to hear me admit it. "Oh yeah?" you ask as you grind especially hard and watch my face contort. This time you don't expect an answer. You get a steady, deep, one inch rhythm going and lean back while pushing my thighs closer to my chest with your hands. "Hold your legs Baby," you say. Obediently I encircle them with my arms. With your freed hands you begin rubbing, pinching, and scraping at the exposed, welted backs of my thighs. You look into my face as each new painful sensation is created and experienced, and you enjoy every nuance of it. Withdrawing for a moment you drag my ass to the edge of the cushion and re-penetrate my opening. This position allows for my legs to spread further apart, and you press at my inner thighs to tell me that that's what you want me to do. It's harder to maintain eye contact with you this way because the back of the couch forces me to keep my chin to my chest. Still, I manage. You work my rectum a good long time this way, pinching and prodding at the lovely welts you've created. Then leaning back you push your thumbs into my sopping, swollen pussy. You begin stroking my spot in rhythm with your thrusts and I start feeling like I might be able to cum this way. I groan and arch and tremble, and you're getting closer to completely emptying your balls in my bowels. I feel the tension start to grow in my belly... the pain and pleasure are one and the same now. My eyelids flutter down and you ask, "Do you think you can cum like this, Baby?" My eyes pop back open and I gasp, "Yes, Love." Your strokes have picked up speed and your cock feels so good buried so deeply in my ass. You ask, "Really, Baby?" Quickly I nod. Suddenly you withdraw one thumb and place your hand, thumb down, over my upper labia. The other continues stroking me. "I love your pleasure Baby, and your pain... and your orgasm. They belong to me. Isn't that right?" "Yes," I gasp as you press exceptionally hard at my spot. "Thank you, Baby," you say with exaggerated warmth. "I'm glad we agree on that because tonight Baby, tonight... I'm choosing not to allow you your orgasm." As you say this you begin to roughly rub my tortured clit with your thumb. I shriek as my thighs reflexively jerk and try to pull together. "Open your thighs!" you command, and ease up on the pressure on my clit a bit. I allow them to slowly fall all the way open again. You ramp up the pressure on my spot and I groan uncontrollably. My brain doesn't know what to pay attention to. My lids flutter down again and you press more forcefully on my clit. My legs jerk again and I begin to weep. You say, "Shhhhh Baby. Gaaawd do I like you wanting! I like that almost as much as I like your pain. I want you to want to cum so badly you're half crazy with it. I'm going to watch the pain and pleasure compete on your face. I want you right on the edge and then I want you to give it up... for me." You stroke even more insistently at my spot now and once again I feel the tension rising and as the pleasure threatens to overtake me your finger on my clit brings me back with a mewl. You look down into my face and at the distress clearly written on my features and your orgasm gets closer. "Fuck I love you Baby!" you groan. The orgasm tension building in me is becoming so great that your abrading thumb isn't taking it away. My eyes close again and you murmur, "That's right Baby... Give me control." Your orgasm is getting close and I'm being drilled into the couch. "Look at me!" you gasp, rubbing circles over my tortured clit. The rubbing has now become stimulating when I couldn't have imagined it ever could be. My eyes look desperately into yours, begging you not to let me fail and at the same time, wanting more than anything for you to let me cum. A single tear slides down my cheek as I struggle to keep from cumming. I look into your eyes and I can see that you are ready to. This is what I need, what I've been needing for weeks; to have all of my energy and focus sharpen into one intense pinpoint where all I can think of is you. All of the trivial worries and minutia that had been lingering in my thoughts relinquish their territory to make way for one beautiful purpose, and that is to please you. Whether through my pleasure, my struggle or my pain, I need only focus on this one goal. You stroke my spot deeply and drive into my guts forcefully and I cry out, "Maaark... Please!" I don't know what I'm begging for but I know I'm about to cum and in an instant I'll be over the edge. Your thumb slides out of me and your fingers grasp and pinch my swollen pussy lips harshly. The painful jolt pulls me away from the edge of orgasm just as yours pours into me. Your groans of pleasure satisfy my soul. I burst into tears crying with relief and release and begin to whisper, "I love you Mark, I love you," over and over while my clutching rectum milks you. Slipping off the sofa together, you pull the blanket over us. I close my eyes and savor the sating of my soul and the joy you gift to me by taking from me so lustily. In moments I drift off into that long-awaited deep sleep with you still inside me. Our bodies are twisted together and my deep, even breathing signals my slumber. Wrapping your arm tightly around me you gently cup a bruised breast. Even in my sleep, a glimmer of pain reaches my consciousness and I moan softly. Into my sleeping ear you whisper, "Thank you, Heather. Sleep tight, Baby." You place the most tender of kisses on my shoulder You know I will, Love. You always know what I need. Then with a sadistic smile tugging at your lips you think drowsily about how, tomorrow, you intend to make me work for an orgasm. And with my battered clit, it'll be the most delightful torture. Then sleep finds you as an expression of satisfaction falls over your features. Need I arrived at work and checked my email. There was a message from my Master and just seeing it there in my inbox excited me. I opened it and read my instructions for the day carefully. 'My Slut, You are to go to your favorite store today, the one at the Town Center, and you will pick out clothes and take them into the dressing room. When you go into the dressing room you will stand right there in front of the mirror and remove all of your clothing. You will watch the mirror as you let your hands slide over your body; you will pinch your nipples, the first time as hard as you can for 20 seconds, then when you release them. Then you will finger your clit until you are wanting to cum for me, BUT YOU WILL NOT CUM! Then you will move back to your nipples and pinch them as hard as you can again for 30 seconds this time. After you've released them you will turn and bend over and open your pussy as if I were the mirror, you are to imagine I am there watching you expose yourself to me. You will slide a finger into your pussy and then back out. You will then finish your shopping. I will be close by, and I will be watching you. Arrive at the store at 2:00 and park at the Sears entrance, walk through the store and take the escalator to the Store. Do not disappoint me. Your Master' I felt my pussy convulsing, almost cumming just from reading it. I had to take several deep breaths. Then I scrolled down and saw the post script. 'Touch yourself right now, right through your panties, until you are ready to cum, then stop, you are not allowed to cum. At 10 o'clock you will leave me a voice mail of you touching yourself, begging to cum - do not give yourself release. At 12 you will do the same thing and again right before you leave for the store. The last time you will take your panties off at your desk and spank you pussy for me until it is gushing, but you STILL WILL NOT CUM. Put your panties back on and go directly to the store, do not wash your scent off of your fingers at any time during the day. Do you understand? I hope you wore a dress for me today.' I whimpered at my desk as I read the letter again, wanting to touch myself right then. I kept fidgeting in my chair feeling my lips becoming more and more sensitive as I waited for 10 o'clock to come. By the time it was ten I was eager to cum and dialed his number before I could let my own shyness take over. His voice came over the phone telling me to leave a message and I whimpered out loud at just the sound of it. As the recording started I whispered how excited I was and then began to touch my swollen lips, I whimpered - a raw and moaning sound, and rotated my hips, pleasuring my pussy as I told my Master how wet I was for him. Hastily I corrected myself and told him how wet his little slut was for him. I almost started to cry as I begged to be allowed to cum knowing I couldn't please myself that way. As I hung up the phone I laid my head on the desk and panted trying to keep myself from the orgasm that was begging to be released. For the better part of an hour I ached, but finally the worst subsided, and I began to look forward to 12. At 12 I made my call and at the sound of my Masters voice I shivered as I slid my fingers over one nipple pinching it and baring them both before sliding my fingers into my panties. I rubbed my swollen lips and told him how fat and wet they were, how much they craved his tongue and fingers and then I couldn't stop myself from begging for release, I moaned how I needed his cock inside me, how I wanted my pussy to suck on it, how I needed to feel his fingers pinching my nipples and how I wanted to taste his cum as he fucked my mouth. I had to stop touching myself right then the image of his hands fisted in my hair, using my mouth, fucking it hard, had me creamy and wet my pussy soft and warm and shaking. After I slipped the phone back onto its cradle I sat back and closed my eyes. I tried to think of other things and ached in pain for release, I began to breath deeply and then said the abc's to train my mind on something else. This time it was almost 1:30 before I could calm my body again and I knew I needed to call him again. I removed my panties and put them in front of me, then I pushed my chair back sat on the very edge and slowly spread my thighs . . . I thrust my hips forward and dialed his number. I heard his voice, it made me moan to imagine him listening to me do this, listening to me as I begged for his touch. I raised my hand and slapped it down on my swollen lips, and I whimpered, but then I used one hand and held them open and slapped myself again, the sound echoed in the small office and I cried out loud. I slapped my wetness again and again, the juicy sound drove me higher and I cried out I couldn't last, but I knew that I must. I raised my hand and whispered to my Master "I'm slapping my pussy so hard for you Sir, it's so wet for you. Do you hear what you do to me?" With a final slap I set the phone down and cried with my head on the desk, I had to cum . . . but I couldn't. I quickly put my panties on and locked up the office. I drove the five minutes to the mall and parked near the entrance. As I walked to the doors I looked around, wondering where he was, if he was already watching me, my nipples tightened and I sighed rather loudly. My panties had become a pool of wetness. As I rode the escalator I glanced around seeing several different men, wondering which was him. I went into the store and tried to shop, it was hard to keep my mind on shopping when I kept feeling his eyes on me. I could see no one. I picked out a few bras and a nightgown and then a skirt and a top or two and asked for a dressing room. The clerk asked if I was alright and I smiled and said I was fine even though there were butterflies in my stomach and my pussy was throbbing and wet. As the door closed I whimpered softly and hung up the clothing, I tried them on first and then picked the one that I would purchase and hung everything back up. I took my bra and panties off and stood in front of the mirror. I knew I had to look to watch and slowly I raised my eyes to look at myself in the mirror, my cheeks were stained with blush and it crept down to the tops of my breasts, I raised my hands slowly letting them caress me as I stood naked shaking as I watched them slide over my soft pale skin. I cupped each breast and watched as my nipples tightened. I bit my lips as I tried to repress a moan, then I pinched my nipples and began to count, my eyes watered and I made a whimpering noise. I released them and gasped at the way it felt, how it sent tingles the whole way through my body making the warm flesh of my pussy convulse. I slowly slid a finger down my belly and pressed the tip against my clit, I bit my tongue to keep quiet, it was so hard to do, and then I began to rub my clit, my lips were so swollen, my finger sank in deep to reach my tiny little berry. It was so juicy and I watched my hips jerk forward as I rubbed it. I leaned forward hand on the wall and stopped trying to catch my breath, then I reached up pinching my nipples again I couldn't stop myself and cried out loud. "Ohhhh!" a voice answered me that stopped me cold. "Is everything all right in there?" "Yes." I called back breathless, "Something fit rather well for a change" I giggled nervously. The feet under the door walked away finally and I turned and bent over my naked ass in the air, I didn't know how I would finish this, I needed to cum so badly. I shook as I slide one red tipped fingernail into my pussy sliding it in deep and then pulling it slowly back out, it was coated with my creamy wetness - almost dripping. I moved to wipe it off and remembered my instructions and waited instead for the scent to dry on my finger. I dressed quickly and went to pay for my purchase. I thanked the clerk and hurried from the store my face burning, wondering if she somehow knew what I had been doing. I stood on the escalator and then felt someone behind me. "Don't turn around, do you understand?" it was his voice. Everything in me told me to turn; I had to fight myself to stay still. "Yes, Sir." I whispered, my voice wavering. I felt his hand run over my ass and I gasped. Then he slid his hand around my waist and with his other hand slipped something into my bag. "Don't turn around, go directly to your car, I'm going to follow you, you will not turn around, do you understand me?" I nodded and whispered, "Yes Master." as the escalator ended I walked on trembling legs towards the entrance and kept my eyes straight ahead. I kept holding my breath and then when I released it I would whimper. I got to my car and put my bag on the seat and waited for a moment. He came and stood directly behind me. Then I felt him rub against me from behind. I whimpered, I couldn't stop the raw sound from escaping my lips. He chuckled and told me to get into the car. I rubbed my hips back against him and he gave my ass a pinch and whispered "You'll pay for that liberty." Then I sat down and he said "Put your window down." and he shut the door. I turned the key and let the window open. He leaned down so I could almost see part of his mouth. "Give me your panties now!" he demanded and I gasped glancing around "Are you hesitating?" he asked me and I whispered back "No sir." I fumbled under my dress, sliding my panties awkwardly down to my feet. I handed them to him and he chuckled at how wet they were. "Put your finger in your pussy, right now." He said, and I whimpered louder this time and slide it into my wet hot passage. "Now give it to me." I felt his tongue rubbing against my finger as he leaned over and licked it clean. "I have one more instruction for you. You are to go home and go to your room, you will put on the clamps that I have just given you, and you will bare your ass and spank yourself for me. You will spank yourself 20 times, each strike harder than the last. That is for hesitating to obey me. Then you will not touch your pussy again until you are given further instructions do you understand?" I wanted to protest, I needed to cum so badly. "Yes, Sir." I said but it came out pouty. "That just earned you 5 more, you will report on each stroke to me in the morning." With that he took my hand kissed it, nipping with his teeth, and then walked away. I sat in the car and cried. I'm sure he heard me as he left me, but I couldn't help it, I was so aroused and aching to be pleasured and I wanted to be defiant and sit right there and cum, I knew just thrusting two fingers into my juicy pussy would have me exploding, but I stopped myself. I had to obey, I had to go without, and I had to learn that it was his pleasure, not mine. I wiped my tears and drove myself home, sighing and aching the whole way. Need The door to their suite slammed open with a BANG! as they stumbled through into the room beyond. His hands were everywhere, and they made her body burn with desire. Their evening had started exactly as Melina had planned. He kissed her savagely, pulling her head back with a great handful of her long black hair as he pressed his lips firmly against hers. She lost herself in that kiss, pressing her lush body against his, her breath stolen from her by the intensity of his embrace. He ignored the indignant scoff from the older couple passing by and kicked the door shut. Nicolai pushed her up against the wall of the foyer, his desire evident by the heat of his heavy cock between them. Melina looked up at him, her hazel eyes bright with desire, her breath coming in shallow gasps, "I need you," she moaned, running her hands across his back. He just laughed, and kissed her again, savoring the way she moaned loudly as his hands cupped hers together over her head, pinning her against the wall. Her body heaved against his, breasts jutting out wantonly, taut nipples straining against silk, her darkest treasure already wet with desire, aching to have him inside her. "I need you," she said again in a rush, her breath torn from her by touch. Nicolai said nothing. He never did. From the very start of their relationship, it had been like this: A marked imbalance between her desire and his that all too often found her pleading for his touch, while he stoically tormented her with her own hunger. From that first afternoon when he'd met her in the coffee shop, studiously going through her notes and her books, there'd been a sexual, raw intensity to him that she found irresistible. Right from the start he triggered something overwhelming and wonderful and scary all at the same time in her; a greedy, demanding thing that insisted on satisfaction. At first, he'd sat down at the next table, a folded newspaper in one hand, and small cup of espresso in the other, and simply pretended to read while he scrutinized her. She'd been too shy to meet his gaze, flattered and embarrassed by the attention, stealing glances surreptitiously until he simply moved over to the chair opposite her and began to talk to her. He was twenty-three, he said, and a graduate student; he claimed he was well on his way to making a name for himself in solid-state physics. He told her physics was his great passion ... well, his other great passion. Somehow, Melina managed to not pass out from her shyness and stammered out responses. She was eighteen, a newly minted freshman at a major midwestern university, still wide-eyed with all the wonders of American culture and far from her home in Jeddah. She didn't know what it was at first, though she definitely felt drawn to him for some strange reason. That first afternoon, as they pretended to read and sip their coffees, she stole a glance at him over the top of her book (for he was quite handsome) -- and he'd winked at her! To her horror and pleasure, Melina had felt her nipples harden right there and then in the coffee shop. He couldn't see that, of course, beneath the shapeless dress she wore, but he did smirk at her gasp of surprise; certain, she knew, in the effect he was having on her. Naturally he began to talk to her again, to ask her questions, probing for all the pertinent details a man seeks when pursuing a woman. She of course answered as only an innocent can, unaware that she was being seduced by his charms even as her body trembled at the thought of this handsome American stranger wooing her. Surely he wanted to get her into bed, right? After all, coming from such a sheltered upbringing, she'd never even kissed a boy, let alone been actively pursued in a public place, so what else could he have been after? But then why was she thrilled by that prospect? What power over her did he have?!? At last, realizing that she was enjoying their exchange far too much, that she was acting in a manner that was shameful and wanton, she tried to flee. Blushing furiously, Melina rose and bolted for the door, spilling her books as she did so. But he'd caught her hand as she rushed past -- how her skin had burned at that first, unbidden touch! -- and gently pulled her back to his table, seating her beside him. While she stammered and sputtered with a heady mixture of embarrassment and raw, unexpected hunger, he'd knelt and retrieved her things, placing them before her with a tenderness that surprised her. Within three days, she found herself in his bed. His hands slid down the silk, releasing her from his grip, his caress burning down her side, then her hips, and finally her quivering thighs. She let out a long shuddering sigh, her skin electric beneath the sheath dress. Between the kiss of the silk and the knowledge that he'd soon have her, Melina could barely breathe, let alone think about what she had in store for him. Her pussy was throbbing, aching to be touched, to be savored by his tongue, to be teased by his fingers as he played with her. She wanted him to kneel before her, to slid up that silken cover that separated her body from his desires, to push her legs apart as he nibbled on her inner thighs, savoring the smell of her wet sex for long moments before finally darting forth with his tongue to drive her to frenzy. But he did none of those things; just continued to kiss her and run his hands across her body, tormenting her with the prelude. She purred with pleasure and leaned into him, kissing him fiercely in return, determined to savage his body with her delights until he begged for release. Sensing her desire, he spun her about, pushing her body up against the doorframe. The heavy oak was cool against her skin, and she could hear the sounds of the corridor beyond as if from a distance; she moaned loudly as his hands brushed against the silk covering her breasts, knowing that the guests in the hallway outside could hear her cries from within. Nicolai knelt behind her, and swatted her legs apart. He pushed the silken fabric of her dress high up on her hips and leaned forward to run his tongue across the breadth of one firm cheek. She shuddered at his touch, pushing her derrière back ever so slightly, praying that his tongue would soon be where she most desperately wanted it to be, that he would flick it across her tight bud and drive her to frenzy. It was a gift he gave her on their third night together; the very thought of his tongue teasing her so made her wet with desire. He said nothing, and simply pulled at the sheer micromesh of her thong, using the fabric to create an urgent friction against her skin as he continued the maddening swirls across her skin, planting the occasional nibble to punctuate her uncontrollable bucking of her hips as she tried to remain still. "Be still," he murmured, lazing his tongue along the under curve of her left buttock, stopping just at the moment she thought he'd go further. She whimpered and pressed her body against the door, hoping that the cool wood might grant her some respite from the inner heat rushing through her body. Nicolai, knowing her body, grazed her swollen labia with his middle finger, his light touch setting her afire as thousands of tiny micromesh stitches intersected with her most sensitive skin. Melina let out a low moan and pushed her ass out, more forcefully this time, willing him to take her from behind, to push into her like a savage as he drove his body against hers. He didn't. Rather, he stood and stepped back. She turned to face him, her pussy fairly throbbing with need. With shaky hands she smoothed her silk dress, watching as he removed his tie with maddening deliberation, and then curled it around one hand -- a well-know signal of his that he intended to bind her. Her body thrilled to the prospect; thusly constrained, she was freed from all her inhibitions, unable to check his actions as he pushed her body into oblivion, far beyond what she could accomplish were she free. In their first afternoon together she became a woman, crossing the threshold of the Little Death. Mesmerized by the trust that seemed to spring up between them -- and inexplicably drawn to him by feelings she didn't quite understand, Melina surrendered her body to passion. She hadn't imagined such pleasure was possible, and was mortified and titillated at the wanton responses he drew from her as he drove her body towards orgasm again and again over the course of that weekend. It was her very first experience with the release so many of her peers took for granted. The little death left her weak and feverish. He unlocked something dark and hungry in her. Aching with needs she'd so long suppressed. "I need you," she said again with a voice husky with desire. He simply smiled at her, his blue eyes shining. Nick kissed her neck, nibbling on it for a moment as he unzipped her dress. She reached up and slid the straps off, letting the black silk fall to the floor. She shivered against him, more from the feeling of the rough cloth of his jacket against her bare nipples than from the temperature in the room. Her breasts were small but full, and she rarely required anything to support them. She knew he didn't care that she wasn't full-chested; knew that what really turned him on was the dark color of her skin, the way her body was cast with a hue the color of dark honey and cinnamon, blessed by hair so dark it seemed to drink in the light. Nick ran his hands down across her back, lingering for just a moment on her buttocks, pert from miles on the treadmill. He pushed her backwards, up against the wall again, his fingers scrabbling down under the waistband of her thong, pulling at the micro fiber mesh in his eagerness to get at her body. She was so wet; it would be so easy to surrender to him now. No. Melina shook her head, trying to pierce the hungry fog that clouded her mind. Tonight would be different, tonight would be hers. She placed a small hand on her chest and pushed gently, "Not yet, love, I want a favor first." "Anything," his voice was taut with need; indeed, her own body was demanding that she stop wasting time, that she do whatever was needed to have him inside her, to take his long, hard cock in to its fullest, to embrace him in that way that only a woman could embrace her lover. But she shook off the feeling; tonight she was on a mission. "I want to play with you." He stopped, the sudden stillness of his hands making her gasp a little with disappointment. Nick looked at her, slightly puzzled. "You want to play with me?" She had been toying on and off with the idea of reciprocating one of Nicolai's favorite activities: tying her up. "Yes," it took all her nerve to meet his gaze at a time like this. He was so dominant in the bedroom that she had trouble asserting herself sometimes, and too often got lost in the whirlwind of his lusts. "Yes, I want to play with you." He stepped back releasing her, and undid the buttons on his shirt, exposing his lean frame. Melina stepped away from the door, running a hand through her long, black curls to distract him from his intended task. She held out her hand, still feverish from the feelings he'd drawn out, "Give me that. It's my turn to bind you." He smiled and handed her the tie. His eyes never left her shapely form; she felt warm and self-conscious. When he looked at her like that, her body burned. When he looked at her like that, she felt lightheaded with the piercing attention; embarrassed and flattered all at the same time. When he looked at her like that she knew he was going to fuck her. Not make love. Fuck her. She knew that he'd fuck her long and hard, his muscular frame slamming against hers until she screamed out her joy as she begged him not to stop; He'd fuck her past his own limits when they simply made love, driven on by the frenzy of quenching his turgid shaft in the tight, white heat of her wet, aching folds; Until the sweat of their bodies covered them, and the heady smell of their sex filled the air with an almost visible haze, and their room became a concert of wet, sloppy noise as her body released its joy; Until she wrapped her legs around the small of his back and hung on as she gave herself over to the dizzying pleasures of his cock inside her; Until the noise of their sex disturbed the neighbors; a raucous symphony of creaking bedsprings, shuddering moans, and rocking headboards that made people stop, listen, and then wonder at the sport of it all with a sly grin; Until her pussy ached from the delirious friction of his cock filling her every whorls and crevice, until her lips were practically fused to his shaft by the sheer force of his thrusts; Until, at last, her eyes would fluttered back in her head and sparks would burst in her eyes as that last keening wail was ripped from her by the force of her orgasm shattering itself outward through her body like a tuning fork well struck. He'd fuck her like she needed to be fucked. Growing up in the sheltered confines of her parents' house, she hadn't had any real exposure to sex, let alone her own sexuality. She didn't know what her needs were -- or even that she could have such needs. Her body was almost a stranger to her. Sex was for babies and nothing else; she hadn't realized that it could be something more, something so powerful. She hadn't known that two people could become so entwined in one another, that she was capable of such need, such desire. But somehow he knew. Somehow he knew how to unlock her desires without making her feel ashamed of them. In the first six weeks she went from an unknowing virgin to a woman fully aware of -- and consumed by -- her lusts and appetites. She discovered a new part of herself, and discovered that she found that the freedom to indulge that those appetites -- and the resultant sexual pleasure that came from exercising that freedom -- to be intoxicating. At first she thought she'd become a whore; that she was no better than all the stereotypes her upbringing had assigned to liberated Western women. His patience and his touch taught her otherwise, taught her that surrendering to her desires was something she had to do, that that was who she was. Surprised at his understanding, Melina embraced her hunger. Most men would have seen her desire as something to be exploited; he simply nurtured it to their mutual pleasure. Time passed, and she marveled at how his presence gave her the opportunity to be her own person in a way she hadn't even imagined possible. Soon, the shy student who wore long dresses and heavy sweaters was lounging around his apartment in just a t-shirt; soon she had joined a debate society, engaging her intellectual hunger every bit as much as her sexual hunger. With him, she could be anything, she could be as wild as the wind, a wanton creature hungry for his touch. But that freedom had a delicious price. No matter what she tried, she could not achieve orgasm without his touch. Without him her fires remained maddeningly dormant. To her pleasure and her dismay, she discovered that she needed him to be the woman she wanted to be, since he was the one who was able to unlock her desire. It was the worst kind of addiction, since he knew exactly what was happening, and did everything in his power to nurture that dependency. In short order, she became his. Melina forced herself to be strong, forced herself to focus on the task at hand, and not the ache that was building in her pussy. She wanted very much to fuck him right there, but willed herself to remain true to the plan she'd devised. "And what would you like to do, love?" He tossed the tie to the floor and stepped out of his shoes. Next came the jacket. "I want you to strip for me." "Really?" A hint of a smile appeared on his handsome face, as if he already knew the joke, but wanted to let her tell it anyway. "Yes, now strip, Mister!" Melina folded her arms across her chest and tried to assume a determined stance, which was difficult, given that she was standing there in just her heels and panties and a string of pearls. "Alright, you're the boss." "That's right. Tonight I am. Tonight you're going to do what I say." Nick nodded and smiled and removed the rest of his clothes. She watched, reveling in the languid movements of his well-muscled frame. When he finally doffed his boxers, she felt a heat flood her pussy; she was simply addicted to that cock, and to see it presented thus was just too much. Melina knelt swiftly before him and took his heavy member in her left hand. Placing her right hand on his hard stomach, she leaned forward, taking his fullness into her gasping mouth. She purred as her lips stretched around it and the hard length of him throbbed against her tongue. "Oh, shit, babe, if this is playing with me, we need to do this more often." Nick's hands were in her hair, holding it away from her face as she bobbed up and down on him. His breathing changed, increasing in tempo as the ripples of pleasure radiated up into his body. After so long, the taste of him was a flavor she savored, and Melina took her time, fluttering her tongue against him to ignite her taste buds, even as she leaned forward again to take in more of him. At last, when she couldn't stand it any longer, she rocked back, releasing him with a wet, throaty gasp. She looked up at him, satisfied at how glazed he looked, and smirked. "Now go, and sit." He nodded dumbly and padded to the chair by the desk. She licked her lips and stood. "I will be right back. You stay here, and don't move." She heard him sit with a frustrated groan, and smiled to herself. Perhaps she held some power over him after all. After a few long moments, she emerged from the bathroom. She saw him gulp in astonishment and thrilled to the knowledge that she could still surprise him so. She'd put her hair up, twisting her sable tresses into a topknot of sorts, and clad herself in a sheer satin chemise. It was the color of polished ivory, and shone in the half-light of their room in wonderful contrast to her dusky skin. The garment left nothing to the imagination -- she'd spent an hour in the lingerie shop making sure it hugged her every curve -- and by the hungry look in his eyes, his imagination was working overtime. Melina padded over to him, emphasizing the sway of her hips just to torment him with how lush her form could be. She bound his hands behind him, like a prisoner, looping the scarf in through the slats on the back of the chair. Next she bound his legs, one to each side, wrapping the scarves tightly around his ankles to hold him fast. It wasn't how he would have tied her up; he'd have bound her to the chair facing the other way, the better to spank her until she begged him for her orgasm. But then again, this evening wasn't his. It was hers. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he was doing this for her. It made her warm inside to know that he would indulge her fantasy like this -- and her pussy throbbed at the sight of him thusly bound, his large cock jutting stiffly before him like an offering. Melina stood in front of him, letting the heat of her body roll over him like a wave, seeing him tremble with desire as she trailed her hand down across her breastbone to caress one brown nipple before sliding down across her taut stomach. His cock pulsed with desire, proud in its turgid excitement; a living thing with its own desires, broadcasting his hunger for her. "Do you need me?" she asked. He smiled, "I want you." She placed one hand on his chin, and directed his gaze to her pussy, made him watch as she grazed her own swollen labia with a well-manicured nail, made him watch her body tremble. Need "Do you need me?" she asked again, loving the way his eyes bore down on the sight of her touching herself. Nicolai swallowed, "I want you." His voice was husky with desire. How did that old Depeche Mode song go? Come on and lie to me? She frowned, something his missed in his distracted state. Melina knew she was playing a delicate game. Too much and she'd fall victim to her own desire; too little and he'd rebuff her efforts to make him beg. After a moment, she knelt, and caught him up in a fierce kiss. Her body thrilled with the passion of it, the way he pushed forward, trying to capture her with forward momentum even as his arms and legs held him fast. She grasped his cock with both hands as she kissed him, stroking him with one hand as she rubbed her thumb against his swollen cockhead with the other. He let out a low moan, bucking in the chair, seeking to escape the sensations so that he might retain some semblance of control. "Do you need me?" She increased her strokes, gripping him in an almost painful manner as she drove him onward. Nick made no response; his rapid breathing the only sign of his desire. He buried his face in her neck, fluttering against her as she tormented him. "I said, do you need me?" He grew still then, if only for a moment, willing himself back to center. Nick sat back upright and looked at her, his blue eyes glazed. "I ... I ... I want you." This statement was made with tremendous force of will; she had to admire his self-discipline, for she knew that she could not have made any similar effort were their roles reversed. On her knees, in front of the chair, she looked up at him. Melina put her hands on his knees, and looked up most innocently. Maybe if she acted disinterested he'd crack before she did. Still, she was frustrated. The feel of his heavy shaft in her hands, burning with desire for her, had her quite on edge herself. She loved his cock, and to deny herself was more difficult than she'd imagined. After that sudden, delirious exposure to her own desire, she'd been hooked, unable to refuse him in her eagerness to be with him. She did things. Unspeakable things. Wicked things. She did things for him, and she did things to him. She did things she didn't believe herself capable of. Nevertheless, she found she could not escape her past entirely. Her mother wept when she found out. Her father raged. That their baby girl, the flower of Arab womanhood, might be carrying on with a Polish Catholic from Chicago was simply too much. And so her family stopped speaking to her. Only her sister Miriam had understood, having run off with a boy from Pakistan when she'd been her age. Truth be told, Melina didn't care; she simply had to have Nicolai. She needed him. Needed his touch. Craved it when they were together and fantasized about it when they were apart. And so she learned to please him. It was a natural thing, given her upbringing in a male-dominated culture. By the end of her first year, she fancied herself as talented a concubine as any man could want, fully capable of pleasuring him in a variety of ways. But still he was there, always one step ahead of her, binding her to him in an ever more consuming way. No matter how adept she seemed to become, he still managed to nurture that combination of repression and hunger in her to leave her begging him for his touch. Because while she might outstrip him in skill, she could not quench her own inner ache; only he could do that. Melina had to have him. She needed him. Time perhaps to tact a different tack. She released him and smoothed the polished ivory against her skin, noting with satisfaction that his eyes were still lidded with desire. He was very close to cracking, she knew. Just a little more could push him over the edge; make him utterly hers. "Does anyone really need anyone?" she asked, almost to herself. He just stared at her hungrily and said nothing. Melina looked up at him and ran her tongue up his inner thigh, and then slowly up to the tip of his cock, where she licked a generous drop of his precum. He tasted wonderful, and she let her tongue take its time for a minute before continuing. "For example, do I really need you? I would like to fuck you, but do I need you? I don't think I do. But I do think you need me, especially since you're so visibly hungry for me now. Shall we have a little experiment?" He grinned, and nodded, calling her bluff. She then backed away from him, just a step or two. And then she began masturbating in a most unusual way. Melina placed a leg on the back of the chair, just behind him, her toes gripping a slight perch with a combination of grace and muscle tone. Slowly, deliberately, she lowered herself towards his swollen member until her aching pussy hovered just above his pulsing cockhead. With great focus she began to move slowly back and forth, using his tormented cock to gently and knowingly part her labia. She shuddered with pleasure as she did so, noting in the hungry corners of her mind how amazing he felt against her folds, how wet he was becoming as she soaked him with her own desire. Nick bucked suddenly, pushing up and into her. The unanticipated penetration made her cry out, which made him smile in triumph. Slowly, she recovered, her breast heaving from the sudden stab of pleasure. She wanted him so very very much right now. It would be so easy to sink down onto him and take her release. That would only prove his point, she realized, but she wasn't so sure that she really cared right now. Her labia tingled from the gentle friction of his swollen cock as she rocked her hips forward and back, lazing them around him with gentle swirls. His eyes were bright, almost intimidating, in their silent plea for more. Melina smiled and paused; he groaned. "Do you need me?" She asked once more. When he shook his head no, Melina dipped slowly, painfully down, sinking onto him for the briefest time, willing herself to ignore the glorious completion he gave her, before rising back up to the sound of his ragged growls of frustration. He shook his head more vigorously, seeking refuge from the sweet embrace of her pussy in the sudden motion. She repeated the process ... once ... twice ... three times ... noting with mild alarm how his muscles bulged against their bonds as he fought to free himself. At that moment she was glad he was lashed so well; should he escape she knew he'd ravish her beyond what she'd be comfortable with -- such was the frenzy of lust that gripped him. Still, he'd taught her well, so for the moment she knew she could continue to play with him. The problem was, she really didn't want to anymore. The longer this game dragged on, the more she began to ache for her own release. And, since only he could give her that release, her own efforts to forestall their intercourse were ultimately self-defeating. Right or wrong, she DID need him. She needed him so badly in that moment that the throbbing ache in her pussy actually hurt. To deny herself further would be to warp the crackling sexual energy running through her body into something dark and unpleasant. A long moment punctuated by a deafening silence passed as she considered the likely consequence of giving in to her own desire. At last, she could stand it no more and made her decision. Melina bit her lower lip to gird her concentration for the coming shock, and sank down on him in earnest, straddling him with her thighs as she took all of him inside of her. Her vision devolved into bright sparkles as the sudden completion overwhelmed her. He was inside her at last, filling her body as only he could; igniting every part of her with a sweet pleasure that made her dizzy. Melina clung to him, for a moment, and then began to roll her hips, goading their mutual orgasm through well-timed, well-placed contact at the most intimate level. Long moments passed. She moved against him, lost in rapture, until at last she became aware that the moans and gasps were her own. Melina shook her head to clear it -- to no avail. She was fading fast, her resolve crumbling in the face of such pleasure. He did this to her; he always did. Time for one last play, she realized. "Say it," she murmured into his ear as her rips rolled rhythmically against him. Her body wasn't her own anymore; she was barely aware that she was even moving, so consumed was she by the white heat of his shaft filling her. She held his cock inside her, grasping its fullness with her inner muscles, stroking it with tiny clenches even as she moved against him to force his friction from within. Nick said nothing, only stared into her with eyes glazed over with lust. He was close to losing it, she knew, and fought down her own approaching orgasm, determined to wrench those three little words from him. "Say it." Melina kissed him fiercely, crushing her small breasts against his muscled frame as she bruised her lips against his. Bound as he was, Nicolai responded as best he could, gasping for her when she suddenly pulled her head back. He leaned forward seeking one brown nipple, and she let him taste it for one second before leaning back. It was a dangerous ploy, however, for the slightest flicker of his tongue against her skin sent bolts of sensation shooting through her. He smiled at her as her pussy spasmed around him, and his raptor's gaze as she struggled not to cum was too much. Melina threw herself against him, holding him tight as she fought for control. Sensing her weakness, Nicolai began to make his cock throb within her, pulsing it against her most sensitive areas. "Say it," he growled into her ear. Spurred on by the changes in her that were occurring, Melina ground her pussy against him with renewed vigor; she tensed her leg muscles, planting one foot on the floor on either side of the chair, and began to raise and lower her body, drawing him out and then plunging back down on him. Nick groaned, his eyes fluttering as he resisted. "Say it," she moaned, as she bucked against his bound frame. Thusly constrained, he could do nothing to reciprocate. She was his mistress for the night; her body would be the instrument of his torture -- and his pleasure. Melina purred, savoring the combination of his thick cock rasping against her folds and the knowledge that this night was hers. Her thighs ached, and trembled from the strain of pistoning against him. Still, she was determined to continue, and so clasped his shoulders, drawing him close. Unexpectedly, she strayed too close as she gripped him for support, and he struck out with a playful bite on her right nipple; the sensation rocked her, drawing forth a ragged scream of passion as her pussy began to convulse its way into the first stages of her little death. For one long moment she thought she could resist it, thought she could fight off the orgasm. But then, true to form, defiant to the last, he snapped his head forward as she hovered in half thought and gently bit her other nipple. Surprised and aroused, her defenses shattered, Melina unexpectedly surrendered herself to the shuddering, keening rapture of her orgasm. Her body bucked wildly against his, and soon he joined her, moaning his release as his orgasm overtook him as well. Melina collapsed against him, her body feverish with chills and aftershocks from her orgasm. "I need you, I need you, I need you ..." she murmured into his ear, over and over. It was true; she did need him. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, "I know love." He was still inside her, throbbing out his own aftershocks. She kissed him lightly and giggled. "I guess I lost, eh?" Nick smiled and nodded. "Yep, once again, you're all mine." "Next year, then?" "Yes, love, next year. Now please untie me." Need I Take Your hand, and lead you to the bed. tell you to lay, face down, in the center of the bed. I bind your wrists to the top corners, and your ankles to the bottom corners. I look into your eyes and kiss you softly. "Do you trust me?" I ask. you nod, but say nothing. I blindfold, and gently caress up and down yourlegs, stopping to give each cheek a firm squeeze. "You look so beautiful spread eagle like that. Just imagine all the things I could do to you right now." you feel just a tinge of fear, but you trust me, and ultimately know I would never harm you. You feel my hands leave your body, and hear me rummaging through a drawer. you wonder what to expect next, the anticipation raising your adrenaline level. Next you feel soft fabric running down your back. "What is that?" you wonder, but you do not ask. The cloth caresses your skin, down your back, and across your butt. "Does that feel good to you, kitten?" "Yes, it does." I began to swing it harder against your skin, and you come to realize it was a flogger. "Today you will call Me Master. Today, you are My slave." "Yes, Master," you respond. I crisscross the tails across your back, each leaving a slight sting on the skin as it licks. you moan in pleasure, trying to anticipate where the next strike will fall. you feel the licks come faster and faster, almost on top of each other, as I spin the flogger and run it up and down the backs of your thighs. "You do like that, don't you my little slut?" I run it across your ass cheeks, and up your back. "Yes Master." I lean near you and kiss your cheek and say "You're doing fine, my pet." My gentle words do so much to reassure you, and ease your fears. Making it possible for you to relax and enjoy. Then I gently tap your pussy with the soft suede tails, causing you to quiver. Abruptly, I pull the flogger away. About a minute passes, in silence and darkness. you strain to hear or feel any clue as to what I might be doing. That minute feels like hours. Then you feel my hot breath against your cheek. "Whose slut are you?" I ask. "I am Your slut." you reply. "Your slut what?" "Your slut, Master," you correct. "That's better." You ccan feel me straddle you. Suddenl, I grab your hips, and in one motion, I lift your ass and bury his cock deep inside your pussy. you moan with pleasure as I ground against you. "Yes," I say, "My pussy is so wet for her Master isn't it?" "Yes Master, My pussy is very wet for You." "Good," I say. I pull out of you suddenly, causing you to cry out "NO." you feel me untie first one ankle, then the other. "Get up on your knees, slut, get that ass high in the air." You quickly comply, although it is difficult with your chest against the bed. I moved behind you again and grab your hips. you feel me run the head of my cock against your pussy lips, the tip grazing your clit. you sway your hips and push back against me, wanting to feel me inside you again. I teas you by putting only the head inside your pussy and holding your hips still, not allowing you to push yourself onto my hard cock. you groan when you realized your efforts are futile, which causes me to chuckle. I love teasing you this way, making you beg me for my cock. "What do you want? Tell me." "I want You inside of me." "You want WHAT inside of you?" You bite your lip then say "I want Your cock inside of me, Master. Please!" "You want My cock inside your WHAT?" "Oh god Master, I want Your cock inside my pussy. I want You to fuck me, now, PLEASE." Hearing your words thrills me and my cock jumps. Without hesitation, slam the full length of my cock into your cunt. The force of it causes you to fall forward on the bed. I grab your hips, pulling you back up and smacked your ass hard. "Keep your ass in the air slut!" You croak "Y-y-yes S-sir." as I continue to slam my cock into yourr pussy. I reach down and grab you by the hair, pulling your head up from the bed as my hips slap against your ass. The sounds of our fucking filles the room; your moans, my breathing, the sound of my hand coming down on your ass cheeks. "You want to cum don't you, my slut." "Yes Master, please may I cum?" you beg. "You may cum when I do, and not before," I say. A few more good thrusts, and then I pull out of you. you feel me spread your ass cheeks and brace yourself for what you knew was coming. I place the head of my cock against the tight, puckered opening. I push forward until the head pops through the ring and let you adjust to my size for a few seconds before I slide the entire length of my hardness into your ass. I hear you gasp in pain, then moan with pleasure. I love the way your ass grips my cock and know it won't be long before I shoot my cum deep inside. I put my hand on the small of your back and push, causing you to arch your back and lift your ass even higher. I pump myself into your tightness faster and faster. I can feel my balls tighten as my orgasm approaches. You could feel your orgasm building and had to fight not to cum before I give you permission. i am fucking your ass harder and faster and you knew it wouldn't be long. you close your eyes and ride the waves that are building. Suddenly I slam deep into you. "Cum now, my slut," I scream. With that, you feel my cum start to fill you. This pushes you over the edge, and you begin to shake as your body is wracked in orgasm. I hold myself inside you for a few moments, allowing you to milk my cock with your muscles. As our orgasms subside, I gently pull out of you and move to lay next to you. After a moment, I released yourr hands from the bed posts and take you into my arms and hold you, kissing the top of your head. you feel such comfort in my arms. Need This isn't really a story... it's just something I wrote a while back in one of my journals. It's basically just a description of wants, needs, cravings, etc.... what I want in a person. I guess it's pretty idealistic. Anyway though, there are the slightest of naughty bits, so figured maybe someone might be interested in reading it. He would understand me, and all those things about me. He would know my masochism all too well. He would know how to tear me apart and how to put me together again. He would be so rough, yet so gentle. He would appreciate me, and not belittle me or place his own faults onto me. He would be smart, intelligent, and ideally a little older than me. I don't know what it is about that, but there's just something. Nothing pedophile-like (aside from maybe role play that is... haha) but to know that he was stronger, older, that he could protect me but also that he could potentially force me into anything he wanted... I don't know why that is such an immense turn-on. I just want someone to protect me, love me, envelop me. I want to be completely at the mercy of another. I want it so much right now that I can't breathe and I almost cry when I think about it. I wish he was here right now, making me beg for it. I wish I was groveling at his feet, licking his boots, begging him to take me, begging him to own me. Please take me. I want someone who will take me right to the edge, and then push me. He would take care of me, and he would let me take care of him. He would let me wash his hair, and wait on him if he was sick. Sometimes it's hard to cope with myself, and if he ever felt it hard to cope with himself I would make sure he knew it was okay. We could keep each other safe. He would be able to be both serious, and playful. We would laugh all the time. He would be beautiful and good-natured, like the time of day when the sun sets, but he would also be 3 am when it's storming and the power's out... fucking me with a knife to my throat. And I'm really not one to be shallow, but ideally he would be strong with windows for eyes and a long crooked nose. I find long crooked noses incredibly attractive for some reason.... He would be taller than me. Perhaps he could rest his head on top of mine and then wrap his arms around me. He would be clean and he would smell nice. He'd let me wear his clothes, and sleep in his T-shirts. He would understand what I mean when I talk about that feeling I get in my chest at something so beautiful it hurts... the feeling you get when something rips you apart. He would give that feeling to me. And in the same way I would return it. He would love to see me cry, love to see my knees bruised... love to bruise them. He'd lick the tears off my cheeks, letting the blade of his knife rest menacingly on the inside of my thigh. He would stroke my hair so lovingly... falsely reassuring me, only to smack me across the face as hard as he could without fucking breaking me. He would hold my wrists so tightly, me squirming so helplessly underneath him, letting me know his power. He would kiss me so deeply, like no one ever has. He would have me. I would be devoted to him, loyal to him. I would be his defenses, if he would be mine. I would get on my knees and pull his boxers off with my teeth (for my hands are tied behind my back) and take his dick down my throat. He would let me please him... his hands lovingly stroking my hair... and I would look up at him... my lips wrapped around his warm cock... I would look him straight in the eye... so eager to give him what he wanted. His little pet. And then he would wrap his fists in my hair, so violently... and fuck my throat... so deep and so fast that I am gagging a bit and panicking... gasping for air. But he will hold my nose closed, making sure I do not get any. When we had sex he would kiss my nose and stroke my neck and he would grab my chin and kiss me hard. He would close his hands around my waist and pull me down on him. So hard that I cry, I whimper. So hard that it hurts me and I cannot take it. But he will just fuck me harder, still. It will be too much feeling, and I know I will turn my head away... unable to look him in the eye... for if I do he'll see my whole soul so exposed and naked... everything that I am... just splayed out... so vulnerable. But he will force my chin and grab my face and force me to look into his eyes. Everything in my mind will scream TURN AWAY but I can't... he will not let me do that. And we will see each other. He could practically break me if he wanted to and I would probably let him. It's really sort of scary, how vulnerable this makes me. If the wrong person took notice... they could hurt me worse than anything. I am so afraid of that and I hope it never has to happen. When that pain... so extreme... is not matched with love... it can damage you. And emotional scars are hard, and they hurt, and in the end they will just leave you needing more. This guy would never leave me bleeding and crying. He would always bring me back. He would let me bury my face in his chest and he would just say "shhh" and stoke my hair... I would know he loved me. He would be so warm.... He would put his hands around my throat, holding me slightly off the ground... with just the tips of my toes touching, until I grew dizzy and limp... fragile and subjected to him. He would have me pinned against the wall and there would be no escaping. In between gasps I would beg him... "please", and in response he would cover my mouth and my nose and squeeze harder... to the rush of panic and then relief and then to the rush of panic again. He would revel in the look of fear across my eyes. He would ask me... in that tone... so calm... yet so threatening... "Are you afraid darling?" "Yes." "Good, you should be." And he would resume his torture. He would have me. All of me. He would love me... and I would love him so much. We'd take walks at twilight, and talk about everything. The meaning of life, the mechanisms in our brains, love, life, transcendence and the universe. Everything. And then at other times we would just be silent... for nothing would need to be said. We could make each other happy. I really hope this exists because I really don't think I could ever settle for anything else and be happy. I want him here right now. I want to be underneath him right now. I want him to hurt me right now. I want him to hold me tonight. It's getting chilly but he is so warm. If you exist come find me... please. Need I look up at you and see the need in your eyes. You've been waiting for this for far too long, and your desire is palpable. I lie on the bed, sideways, my head hanging off at just the right angle. You edge closer, and I take your cock in my hand, slowly stroking, working my thumb over the head. I pull you to me, mouth opening just enough for my tongue to dart out to flick the drop of nectar that's formed as a result of my manipulation. The teasing bit isn't going to work for you tonight, however. Whereas you generally enjoy it, tonight you want it all...and you want it now. You lean in, wrapping your fingers in the hair on either side of my head, and slowly slide your cock past my lips, over my tongue, till the head is brushing the back of my throat...and then you push some more. You give me a moment to adjust, whisper, "That's it, baby...take it all. That's my good girl," and I purr my appreciation of your praise. You keep edging further into my throat, until your cockhead is firmly ensconced there, and you have me just where you want me. "Ready?" you ask, and I give the slightest nod as indication, as that's all I can manage. "Good girl. Now just lie there and let me fuck your mouth." You grasp my hair tighter and start to move, slowly out, and I can feel the ridge of your cock as it glides past the very back of my tongue. I time my breathing with your rhythm, inhaling when you pull back, licking your shaft as you push your way back into my throat, and then exhaling on the next backstroke. You moan your pleasure aloud, whispering words of encouragement as you start to pump faster, each stroke taking you deeper into my throat. "That's it, baby. You love my cock, don't you, you hungry little slut? You love having your mouth fucked, used like the fucktoy you are. You like being my dirty little girl? I know you do. When I'm done fucking your throat, I'm going to work as many fingers as I can into that tight little pussy and make you squirt for me. That's my girl...mmm, yeah. I fucking love the way you suck my cock, baby." I shift just a bit to give you better access, and that's all the encouragement you need. You hold my head in a vise grip, and now your cock is all the way in my mouth, the skin of your balls rubbing my nose. At this point, there is no way I can time my breathing with your thrusts, and I struggle to keep up, trying my best to continue licking along your shaft as you plunder the depths of my mouth. You shift your hands now, cradling the back of my head with one while the other moves along my throat so you can feel your cock sliding in and out. Your hand begins to tighten ever so slightly on the tender flesh of my neck, and suddenly it's as if someone has attached electrodes to my pussy. I can feel the juices running down my ass crack now, and I ache to touch my clit, but not yet. No, this is your time, and I am here for your pleasure. I relax, content in the knowledge that you will soon take very good care of me. Your breathing becomes more shallow, almost ragged as you fuck my face faster, your orgasm looming. Instinctively, I moan my desire, and that's all it takes. "Hungry, baby? You want my come, don't you, pretty girl? You want my load down your throat?" Another sound from me: a low, needy growl, and your hands move back to the sides of my head, fingers tangled in my hair, gripping, holding me there, and you're ready to explode. You push further into my throat than even I thought possible as your release overtakes you. You grit your teeth, grunt loudly, and time stands still as wave after wave of your come jets down my throat. I reach up and take the base of your cock in my hand, squeezing from the root up the length of your shaft, and pull back, running my tongue along the still-hard flesh. As my tongue snakes across that sensitive spot on the underside of your cock, you jump a little, and I smile, loving the fact that you're putty in my hands right now. I continue working your cock with my hand - long, slow, deliberate squeezes up the entire length, hoping for a glistening pearl to emerge from the head. I emit that sound you love - the one that drives you crazy...the pouty, needy little whimper-moan that never fails to stiffen your cock – and you are finally able to talk. "What's wrong, baby? Not enough come for my hungry little slut?" "Oh, there was plenty of come; I just didn't get to taste it because it went down my throat!" "There's always next time, doll...now, c'mere. Bring that needy little pussy to me. No, not like that. Up. On all fours. I want it in my face." I can feel how wet I am as I assume the position you've commanded, and my clit is on fire before you even touch me. This pose makes me feel extra vulnerable and exposed, and you're well aware of it; that's part of the attraction for you. The other benefit is that you have better access to me; my pussy is wide open and ready for your ministrations. You exhale slowly, and though your breath is hot against my skin, a shiver runs along the length of my spine. "What's this?" you ask playfully, running just the very tip of your finger along my outer folds. A soft moan escapes my lips – a long, drawn-out sigh of a moan that urges you to continue your exploration. "This," you say, "this looks like a hungry little fuckhole. Am I right?" "Yes," I manage to utter. "Yes, what? Tell me, slut." I can hear the taunt in your voice. "Yes, it's a hungry little fuckhole." "Good girl. Now, tell me what it's hungry for." "Your fingers, your tongue...anything. Please?" "Ooh, spoiled little princess said 'please' even. That must mean you really need it. Do you, baby? Do you need to come?" "Mmhmm." I wiggle my ass in anticipation. Without warning, you plunge two fingers inside me, to the hilt. There's no resistance because I am literally dripping by now. I gasp at the unexpected move, instinctively pushing back against you, inviting you to probe deeper. You curl your fingers to hit my g-spot, rubbing gently up and down, side to side, applying more pressure every few seconds. Just as I'm getting used to the sensation and beginning to settle into your rhythm, you pull your fingers out of me. A groan of frustration hisses out of me, and you're suddenly there, beside me, your fingers probing my mouth. "Suck your pussy juice off me. Tell me how good it tastes before I lick it myself." This elicits a growl from deep in my throat. You know how much I love to taste my own juices. You force your fingers into my mouth and I suck them hungrily, swirling my tongue around the same way I did with your cock just moments before. "Good girl. Clean them off. Get all that sweet cunt juice off my fingers, baby. Now, tell me how it tastes." "Mmm...it tastes sweet," I practically purr. "May I have some more, please?" You arch your eyebrow; I can see your eyes twinkle in the candlelight. "You are a hungry little girl tonight, aren't you, baby? Such a good, sweet little slut." You snake your arm back down between my legs and gather more of my wetness onto your fingers, stopping to squeeze my clit between them before bringing them back to my waiting lips. Rather than depositing them back into my mouth, however, you spread the liquid across my lips, running your fingers slowly back and forth across my mouth. Just as I am getting ready to stick out my tongue to taste the gift you've bestowed upon me, you lean in and kiss me fiercely, rough enough to take me by surprise. The stubble on your face is like sandpaper on my smooth skin, but it doesn't bother me; rather, the hint of pain urges me on, and I return your ferocity, reaching up to grasp the back of your neck to pull you in closer to me. My passion fuels yours, and yours, in turn, brings mine to a fever pitch. Our kisses are like a beautifully choreographed ballet in which the dancers can anticipate each other's moves. Tongues flick, dart, and probe in time, lips insist on attention of their own, teeth find purchase and tug, nips alternatingly gentle or rough. You could draw blood and I wouldn't flinch, though. Suddenly you're gone again, and you reappear behind me, lifting my hips to your mouth, fingers digging violently into the flesh of my thighs. Your tongue finds my clit and you suck it tenderly between your lips, stroking it with your tongue even as you pull me to you. I've heard men say that their technique for making a woman come with their mouths involves tracing the alphabet on her clit, and a thought flashes through my mind that if you're writing something now, surely it's the most delightfully dirty composition ever known to man. Fingers again. Curling down to hit that spot. Rougher this time, though, insistent...on a mission of sorts. Sinking into my wet hole again and again, battering my g-spot with an intoxicating message of lust, begging it to answer in kind. I push back against you, canting my hips to allow you to probe deeper, and you respond by adding a third finger. I love that feeling of being filled, and I moan as you explore deep into me with your fingers, the angle, pressure, and sheer girth of them conspiring to send my body into shockwaves of bliss. "Come on, baby. I want to feel that hungry little pussy tighten on my fingers. Make her come for me. Make her squirt like a good little girl. That's it...right...there." You work into me harder, faster, and your fingers are like a battering ram inside me. Nothing else exists in the world at this moment – just your fingers in my pussy and your voice in my ear. "Squeeze my fingers. Do it now. Gonna come for me? Gonna be my good little slut? Come on...I know you can. Spray me with your come. I said 'Now'." Then, the tingle. The official signal from my g-spot that if you keep doing what you're doing, you're going to get wet. "Right there. That's it. Please don't stop. Please keep fucking me. Fuck, I'm so close!" You seal the deal by getting up on your knees behind me so that you can get better leverage. Your new position changes the angle of attack somewhat, and just as I can feel the walls of my pussy begin to tighten around your fingers, you swat me on the ass with your other hand. I whimper, and you know I love it. "Want it again? Do you?" "Yes, please!" "Stick that ass up here for me." Slap! I can feel the handprint blossoming red on my ass cheek "Now come." And I do. The tingle becomes a full-fledged alarm, taking me over completely. "Yes. There. FuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!" As I give myself over to the current of my climax, I push back against it, and your fingers are expelled from my pussy as a stream of juice splashes your hip and thigh. I cry out in pleasure now, a stream of purely unintelligible words and syllables emitting from me like so much babble, but I don't care. You don't understand a thing I say until the one word you wanted to hear comes: "More?" I feel your sardonic grin as you slide a pillow under my hips and then pin me with the weight of your body. Three fingers again, hard, fast, insistent. The second time never takes long after you've pounded my g-spot into submission. "Gonna come again, baby? Gonna make that little pussy squirt all over me again? Come on. Now, you fucking gorgeous little slut!" Again, my g-spot sounds the alarm, and again I push back. I'm still screaming from the first orgasm, the aftershocks still making me shudder, but no words will come, just sounds strung together like pearls. "Theretherethere...yes!" And you're soaked again, the sounds of your fingers plunging into me all but drowned out by the sound of passion's song. I collapse onto the bed then, exhausted even though I haven't really done anything, and I can still feel my pussy twitching as I lie there. A few seconds pass, and I turn to look at you. Serious look on your face, and I look at you quizzically. "What?" "Um...I think we have a problem," you answer. "How could there possibly be a problem?" You glance down, and my eyes follow yours...all the way to the source of the supposed trouble...your cock, standing at attention yet again. You look back into my eyes and grin, "Any ideas?" "Hmm...a few, perhaps." I smile as you lean back in to kiss me, and the dance begins again. Need The water sluiced down over my shoulders cascading over my breasts, running off in streams over my swollen and sensitive nipples. It slid down my back and crept like a lovers hands over my hips to drip off the swell of my belly in crystal tails that changed with the movements of my body. The water was hot it eased my tired muscles and melted the stress from my head. I ran my hands down over my swollen and sensitive breasts, over the swell of my belly to the shaved expanse of my crotch. I felt between my legs as the water followed my arms and soaked the swollen and tender lips of my pussy. Groaning I traced the tender outline of my pussy, dipping my fingers quickly between my lips feeling muscles contract around my fingers as they plunged into my tight hole. Rubbing my clit I leaned against the wall and moaned as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. Straightening up I spread my hand across the broad expanse of my hips and the swelling belly cradled between them. I heard the bathroom door open and ignored it. I cupped my breasts and gasped at how sensitive my nipples were, the areola normally only slightly smaller than quarters were now half again as large as sliver dollars. I heard the toilet flush and again ignored it reaching for the soap. Squeezing out some of the lime-scented gel into the pouf I began scrubbing my skin. That was when I became aware of someone watching me. Turning I stared through a gap in the glass partition at the last person I would have expected to be watching me. My father a large and powerfully built man leaned back against the sink his eyes fixed on the glass shower partition. Even though I knew he could only see a smoky silhouette I felt a sudden heat between my legs and my breathing quickened. Had it not been for my brother and I falling in love on a family trip the previous summer it might well have been my father's baby growing inside me. Pretending indignation I pushed back the partition with enough force to make it bounce against the rubber stop at the other end of its track. I stood revealed to him, hands on my hips, my breasts, belly, and crotch covered in lime-scented foam. I put every ounce of indignation I could into my gaze and stood with the hot water streaming and steaming behind me my foot tapping on the cast iron floor of the tub. My father's reaction was nothing short of comical. He started, then stared, and then blushed a deep crimson. He quickly stood up from were he had been leaning stammering apologies and explaining that he had thought I was my mother. He did not fool me for a second, the massive bulge in his pants clearly showed that he knew it was not mom in the shower. The last time he had been that aroused by her was about 9 months before the birth of my youngest sister. Since then he had openly expressed dissatisfaction with her both sexually and socially. It was laughable here was a relatively young man only 45 and a equally young woman, mom was only 36, with a body that still attracted wolf whistles on the street even after three children. One sexually frustrated with the sudden coldness of the other and whom does he turn to, a mistress, a prostitute, or on-line voyeurism. No he turns to the one person whom he shouldn't even look at, his own daughter. Disregarding the fact that this very same daughter was now three months pregnant with a child willingly conceived with her own brother. I stood under the pounding hot water long after the soap had been rinsed from my skin. Long after the stress and tension had been washed from my body, considering these things. I had gone this far, having sex with and conceiving a child by my brother, why not go a step further. Clearly he wanted me and after some thought I realized that I wanted him just as much. Mom certainly wouldn't mind she had her own concerns, the baby, work, and whatever other entertainments were taking her away from dad. Shutting off the water I stepped out of the shower and dried off. After smoothing on some full body skin lotion I left the bathroom and entered my room. At first glance it appeared to be a typical girls room, boy band posters on a couple of the walls. Predominantly pink décor with blue and green highlights. However, the large oak desk and the equally large and complex looking computer system were truly out of place as was the large barrel shaped refraction telescope by the window. I ignored these items a reaching into my closet pulled out a silk negligee that I slipped over my head. Examining myself in the mirror I laughed, the garment had been a birthday present the previous year from one of my girl friends, back when my figure had been a bit more modest. Where the hem of the garment would have hung to just bellow my butt less than three months before now it barely covered my belly button. It was exactly what I wanted. Leaving my room I made my way to the 'study' a room that my dad kept his computer, books, x-rated dvd's, and weapons. A wood paneled room that was actually half again as large as it appeared to be. The other half of the room was taken up by a bathroom and secret closet that no one was supposed to know about, therefore everyone did. I walked in to the room swaying my hips letting the warm air of the house caress my bare skin. His back was to me as I entered but he turned quickly enough at the sound of my quiet cough. The look on his face was almost laughable. His face turned beet red not from my partial nudity but from the fact that he was now facing me with his pants open and his massive cock firmly grasped in his right hand while the computer monitor behind him played scenes of x rated acts preformed by young women in various stages of pregnancy. It was pretty clear then that it was not just my body that had drawn him to me after all these years. I smiled as his mouth opened and closed like a landed fish. Reaching up I slid the shoulder straps of the gown off my shoulders and with a twitch sent the garment sliding over my swollen breasts to pool on the floor in a rose colored ring. Stepping out of the cloth ring I cupped my breasts thrusting them forward rolling the tips between my fingers getting them hard and pointed. I strode over to him and without hesitation mounted him as he sat on the edge of his armless desk chair. His thick shaft felt like fire as it ender my damp pussy. Thicker than my brothers and harder than anything I had ever felt I forced it inside me sliding myself down his front letting gravity and my own weight impale me on his throbbing member. My body felt like it was being electrocuted, I felt my nipples grow harder than ever before, I felt my breasts swell even more. I tossed my head back shaking like a wild animal on a kill moaning I sank further onto that hot intruder that I was so willing shoving into my body. It wasn't just the illicit thrill of having sex with my father it was more there was a special connection that made my eyes roll back in their sockets, my belly to constrict over my swollen uterus, my pussy to clamp down on his hot shaft like a Chinese finger trap. Juices soaked and slicked his massive cock as I settled myself across his hips wrapping my legs firmly around him and the chair, effectively trapping him. At first it was enough just to sit there the feel of his cock filling me like the missing piece of a puzzle. I clenched around him massaging his dick with my pussy, milking him in a way I had not though possible before. Then I opened my eyes and there he was his face less than inches away his eyes deep and green pools of fear and ecstasy. His breath warm and smelling of fresh coffee, his lips smooth and thin despite years spent out doors. The feel of his heart beating next to mine, my breasts pressed painfully against his chest, my swollen belly pressing gently against his flat one. Leaning forward I closed the distance between our lips and with an almost innocent tentativeness lightly kissed him. He responded in kind though a little firmer and a little longer. We played this game as our bodies reacted to each other. I could feel my juices dripping off my pussy lips and clit I could feel the heat of his cum as it churned in his balls waiting to come out in a spray of potency. Our kisses became less tentative our tongues explored, my hands opened his shirt and our skin touched. He shifted position and thrust deeper into me the head of his dick knocking on the door to my womb. I felt him swell, I felt myself clamp down on his swelling shaft I wrapped my arms around him holding him tightly to me our lips pressed together our tongues intertwined our moans and cries lost in each other. I felt him tense, strain for a moment to hold back the inevitable, then relax as cum roared out of his dick spurting deep inside my pussy filling it with hot seed flowing more and more filling until it spurted out of my pussy from around his shaft. He kept thrusting long after the last of his cum had spilled from his balls. It felt good I never wanted it to stop; my own orgasm had been lost in his a tightening of my body a rush of light that filled the world a cry lost in his mouth and then the gentle warmth that only a baby feels wrapped in it mother arms, safe and secure. I don't remember how long we sat there coupled in that way, one body one soul. I think we would have stayed that way forever if mom hadn't come home. We heard her first as she and my youngest sib entered the house, the latter being noisy and full of energy entered the house like a small tornado, giving us plenty of warning. With a groan I released him and on shaky legs stood and made for his private bathroom. He turned and with a touch changed the computer from smut fest to the local news broad cast. Sitting on the edge of the tub in the bathroom I heard mom come in and without any effort heard what they said. It made my ears burn the way she talked to him. No man deserved to be talked to that way, no woman either; no one should be put down like that. But something had changed in him and his responses brought a warm glow to my heart as I realized that not only was he defending himself but also my and my brother as well. Of course mom didn't know that my brother was the father of the child I carried. Neither did she know unless she could smell what he and I had just done together. I heard her voice raise higher in agitation, suddenly cut off by his smooth mellow tones. There was the sound of a slap followed by a grunt, then more slaps. I needed to see what was happening. Grabbing one of dad's long robes I opened the door a crack and saw my mother as I had never seen her before. Naked, furious, a demon-goddess, tanned skin flowed over firm muscle, large breasts thrust like softly swelling hills from the plain of her chest. Her belly still flat after three children showed a sculpted grace that an athlete would envy. Her face was flushed, her hand raised to deliver another blow to my fathers already red cheek. Tears ran down her face as she cried out again to him and her hand fell hitting his cheek and leaving four furrows that quickly dripped red. 'Why, gods dam you, why wont you do it!!' She screamed. 'Am I so ugly now that you can't stand the thought of giving me what I want!' SLAP. 'You heartless bastard, are you smut flicks and plastic pussies so much more attractive than me' SLAP SLAP 'Why cant you just fuck me, just fuck me one more time! Give me just one last child! I am a woman, I have needs why can't you just give me what I want.' SLAP My fathers face was beet red on one side now the blood from the scrapes left by my mother's nails smeared from ear to chin like some bizarre paint. After the last slap my father simply shook his head. She screamed at him and fell to her knees her breast bouncing as she hit the floor. It was a pitiable site, my father strong unreasoning and unmovable, my mother who I now realized I had misjudged curled naked on the floor at his feet crying her heart out. My hand almost automatically went to my belly when I realized that her needs were very valid that she wanted another child but for some unknown reason my father would not give her one. The child I carried only emphasized the validity of her need, how could I as a expectant mother myself turn away from another woman who only desired to fill her role in nature and in life with that most precious of gifts. It then dawned on me that I could provide her with a solution, maybe even more than one. After she gathered her self up and left still crying I emerged from the bathroom and tended my father's wounds. I questioned him closely and was surprised by the answer. It wasn't that he didn't love her, quite the opposite; it was that since her last pregnancy he had found himself in a dilemma. His pregnancy fetish, something that he had, had since high school was growing out of control. He said that it had taken every ounce of his self-control to keep his hands off her during her last pregnancy and now that I had willingly given myself to him he was beginning to fear the same for me. He wanted to get her pregnant he wanted to lover her pregnant body day and night he wanted what he knew he could not have. I left him crying his own tears at his desk, slipping quietly up to my room and locking the door. I lay down on the bed and was not surprised when a few seconds later my brother joined me. 'So,' he asked, 'is the old man any good?' Shocked I turned to him. 'What,' he exclaimed, 'you didn't think I knew!' He laughed at the expression on my face and rolled over until he was hovering above me his knees between my legs his arms on either side of my body resting against my breasts. I noticed then that he was naked and as I looked down his long lean body I saw his thick member lengthen and harden in anticipation. Laughing I forked my legs up around his hip and pulled him down as he slipped inside. It felt incredible, still hot and damp from coupling with dad I felt his shaft slip between my pussy lips. Groaning, crying out I begged him to push himself deeper. Laughing he complied filling my juice slicked pussy with his thick cock. I reflected as I felt him bottom and grind his pelvis against mine that dad wasn't really thicker or longer but that both of them were unique in their own wonderful way. My dads cum still thick within me made a wonderful lubricant along with what my own body produced. I felt hot and randy like a cat in heat, the weight of my swollen belly only adding to the pleasure as I rubbed its taut, bulging surface against his hard flat belly. Lost in my own world of pleasure I cried out. Begging for more I didn't even think about what I was saying. 'MMM!! God, baby please, more, no don't stop, more.' I cried begged pleaded for him to fill me. The heat of his dick seemed to grow I felt his cum rising. Wrapping my legs tighter around his hips I ground my pussy into his crotch, juices spurted out of me as my orgasm reached its peak my back arched my breasts thrust higher. I felt his tongue rough on my nipple and screamed in ecstasy. Losing control was so easy, wrapping my arms around him digging my nails into his back as my pussy clenched around his dick squeezing, milking. I felt his cum fountain in to my body as his cries reached my ears filling my soul it felt like the most incredible feed back it cascaded through us in a unending. The months passed, mom became more and more dissatisfied with dad, which was of course exactly what I wanted. My belly swelled until it was hard to believe that I was only having one baby, which I knew by then that I wasn't but hadn't told anyone else. I was in my sixth month when I thought things were right. Dad had become more and more demanding of my time, sex with him was electric, exhausting, pain, and pleasure beyond anything I had thought possible it was like a drug the way he worshiped my gravid body. It was late fall and the first of several great storms swept across the state, locking us in the house confining us in one place for long days and even longer nights like a fission reaction out of control. I began by discarding all my clothes; I walked around the house naked, flaunting my bulging belly, driving both my father and brother to distraction with my swollen breasts and darkly shaded pussy. My mother was not amused and retreated to her room after breakfast, just as I had planned. After lunch I also disappeared making sure that neither of the boys could find me though I knew exactly where they were all the time. As the sun set I snuck into mom's room using a little known and for me very tight passage that led from my room to hers. She was in bed reading and looking up with severe disapproval at my entrance, I was still naked, and at the sight of me her scowl deepened. 'What do you want…?' the last word went unsaid but I knew what she was thinking. 'I'm here to give you exactly what you want.' Laughing I twirled around like a ballerina a difficult task considering all the extra weight I was carrying, but I did it nonetheless. 'And how would you know what I want?' She asked her eyebrow arching at both my statement and my actions. I slipped onto the other side of the bed from her and slid myself across the sheets letting my breasts dangle and sway. Slipping up next to her I rested against the headboard leaning softly against her shoulder knowing how uncomfortable my nakedness and gravid condition made her. Sliding my arm around her shoulder I cupped one of her breasts and then with my free hand cupped one of my own. I felt her flinch and smiled, just the right response. 'I know what you want because I know what daddy wants, and I know what he wants because he told me. Not in so many words but he certainly has been demanding the last few months and it doesn't take a genius to figure it out.' A little white lie to smooth the way, 'you see mother, he wants me because I'm pregnant, not because I'm prettier than you or sexier or more wanton than you. If I wasn't pregnant I doubt that he would give me a second glance.' Leaning down I kissed her cheek letting my tongue linger I licked up to her earlobe and sucked it in humming lightly as I teased her ear whispering my not so secret knowledge. 'You see mom,' I said as I ran my tongue over her ear and then down the side of her face kissing her neck. 'Dad loves pregnant women, dad is frantic about pregnant women. He wants pregnant women more than anything in the world and that scares him because he knows that you want to be pregnant and he is afraid.' Breaking off I slid around until I was facing her. Reaching out I undid the first button on her blouse. 'Dad is afraid and I control his fear and through it I control him. You didn't actually believe that he loved me because I'm sexier, or prettier, or better in bed than you. No dad loves me because I'm pregnant and if I weren't then he likely wouldn't give me a second glance. But he is afraid for me now, afraid of what he might do to me. I control his fear by submitting to him, giving him what he wants, satisfying him.' I undid two more buttons on her blouse, exposing the tops of her large creamy breasts. 'I can give you what you want mother, a child from his seed.' Lifting one swollen breasts I sucked the nipple into my mouth and glancing at her out the corner of my eye I saw a light in her eyes, deep and hungry, wanton light that darkened her eyes and brought a flush to her smooth skin. Undoing three more buttons I exposed her breasts, cupped in a white lace bra, I slid my fingers around them rubbing her nipples through the fabric with my thumbs. Leaning forward I lifted her breasts as I kissed her lips, letting the swell of my belly touch her whispering again in her ear. 'All I ask, all I need from you is your love. Love me like you used to. Love me like the woman I have become let me love as I want and I will give you all that you want.' Her book dropped to the floor as her hands rose cupping my breasts caressing the swell of my belly. Her head turned and I felt her lips on my neck, tracing the line of my jaw. I looked deep into her eyes as our lips touched; my victory was secure as our tongues twined. Need We made love all afternoon and on into the evening. I discovered things about my mother that I had never known. In our passion she took me higher than any man ever dreamed and in return I gave myself to her body and soul. As the sun disappeared over the horizon we rested and I outlined my plan for her. It would not be easy, but with some timing and care it would be done. Another month went by and at the beginning of my seventh month I revealed to dad that I was carrying twins. This drove him frantic, the thought of my swollen belly holding two lives made him desire me even more. But even as his desire grew I held back more and more, telling him that I wanted to take things easy not stress my body and possibly the babies as well. He understood but it drove him crazy. Two weeks later the time was right, mom was at the peak of her fertility, and dad was so frantic with lust that he would have willingly fucked anything that stood still long enough. The weather cooperated too being more miserable than it had the previous month it trapped us and more importantly him in the house. With no way to work off his sexual frustrations he boiled like a kettle. It was a Friday night I donned my warmest robe, a new one that he had bought me, large enough to cover a belly twice my size. Though I would need ever inch of it in the coming months. I went first to mom's room, she was ready, naked except for a set of pillows she had strapped across her belly. Good enough I thought. Then I made my way down to his study, I would get him hot and then lead him on. Loosening my robe I let it fall open as I entered the room. Hearing me he turned. I watched as his erection nearly tore open the crotch of his boxers. I turned and in profile beaconed him out the door. Down the hall I heard him following even as I turned out all the lights and with the dark color of the robe concealing me I turned into mom's room and called out to him. He followed, blindly, trusting the sound of my voice as a lead him on. Sitting down beside the bed I caressed my mothers arm to let her know that it was time. She rustled the sheets and I called out to him telling him were I was. I heard the bed squeak and then a groan as I watched the shadowy figures of my parents. Mom played her part perfectly and I felt myself getting damp as I listened to the sounds of their sex. For a week we played this game and by the end of the month mom was pregnant and dad knew he had been had. For the next two months things went smoothly. My body became less and less mine and dad grew more and more attracted to mom as her body changed as well. I knew it was time when after showering one day I felt first my thighs then the rug under my feet grow wet with an unknown fluid. I had not seen my feet in months and could not now see what was happening. But the meaning came clear as a massive contraction rippled across my belly. At my cry mom rushed in and in a second had me in the tub and was filling it with warm water. We had agreed that a water birth would be best for me and the tub was certainly large enough. What we hadn't counted on was dad, luckily my brother seeing the way he was acting as he gazed down at my naked and straining body quickly wrapped him up in a bear hug and locked him in the basement. Time slipped away, the pain increased with each contraction, I felt myself orgasm as the pain reached its peak. Each new pain brought a new orgasm, higher and higher I pushed and the first baby emerged amid blood, and pain, and the most indescribably pleasure imaginable. I heard the babies squall and opening my eyes saw my daughter for the first time. A beautiful creature that my mother handed to my brother as she prepared to receive the next one, the next one wasted no time in being difficult and I was nearly asleep with exhaustion by the time she came. My body shuddered as the final contraction began, a long, painful, orgasmic explosion that took me into a velvet filled darkness. I don't know how long I slept, mom told me later that it was nearly two days or as she put it eight feedings. My daughters nursed easily and it was clear that daddy no longer had any sexual interest in me now that I wasn't pregnant any more. Even my fears about having my brother as the babies' father were eased as they grew and acted just like normal babies. Mom gave birth to another daughter just as summer was starting, and after she had recovered she approached me and suggested that it was time to think about having another child. This time I knew my father would be the babies father, mom wanted to get pregnant again as well despite having given birth less than six months before. So we began plotting, and a plan formed. But that is for another story. * * * * * Hey I know this might seem to have gone on long. But as always I want your feedback. Please let me know what you like and what you didn't like. Thanks Need If his need had not been so great or desire so greedy he might have showed her some romance. But if he did not posses her now, posses her quickly he was sure he would shatter into jagged shards of desperation. So his mouth was fevered with impatience , his hands rough with urgency. At first taste of her he knew she was already his. But it was not enough he needed all of her. She did not tremble or hesitate. As her hands roamed over his back he felt only her hunger urging him on. She nipped at his lips wanting him to take his fill. He ran his fingers through her rich hair grabbing fistfuls of the silk length. Even as his mouth ruthlessly devoured her. She opened for him, releasing soft and sultry moans of pleasure as his tongued plunged to duel with hers. He wanted so badly and that want vibrating from him aroused her own. She was fighting to meet him thrust for thrust. Her body trembling with passions long suppressed. She had never been wanted like this. Not like this with the violence of desire pulsing in the air so that every breath was seduction. She strained against him, battering a tide of sensations wanting more. His mouth raced over her face, down her throat and licking and nipping an erotic path. And his hand oh lordy his hands were fast and lethal. Desperately she dug her nails into his back. as she tried to remember but her mind was spinning from the onslaught. His body was like a furnace, hot damp flesh fusing with hers in a way that made her shudder the sheer wonder of it. His fingers clamped hers still while his free hand roamed her body in a merciless assault. She could feel the anger, taste the frustrated and furious desire. Desperate, she begged him to wait but all she could manage were jagged moans . When his mouth found her breast he let out a hot groan of pleasure. As she writhed beneath him, he nipped and tugged the taut nipple, losing himself in the taste and texture while her heartbeat hammered against his mouth. He could feel urgent excitement raging through, hear it in quick sobbing breaths. .He ranged lower his tongue laying a wet heat over her belly.Delving deep into her recesses his tongued played .His fingers opening her up . The scent the taste. She was so wet for him She screams out his name . Whole worlds exploded inside. Stunned she laid shuddering beneath him. Her eyes were dark with passion, her face flushed and dewy with the aftershocks. He had not guessed what it would do to him to see that kind of dazed pleasure on her face. But he knew he wanted more. He was driving her up again. Before she could recover. Pushing her towards an edge. Now she could only embrace the speed and the thrill of danger. Her hands were as ready as his now her mouth merciless. Her fingers equally impatient as they streaked and pressed over heated flesh. She wanted to touch as urgently as she needed to be touched. Taste as she had been tasted. She craved the madness. The hunger she had not known she could feel, and the wild desire that was like a wolf to consume. His hard velvet length in her hands. He shuddered under her a her tongue swirled over him. The scent of passion of man consumed her breath. Nipping at his belly her hands played him. Groaning and at the near the edge. Suddenly he could take no more he had to have her now. Pulling her up in his arms her long legs spread invitingly begging for him. He entered her hard and fast .She screamed in ecstasy.. Sweat of passion rolling off both of them, the edge of sexual tension in the air. There was no thought or control now not from either of them. With each thrust he sent her racing again and again. She rode each only frantic for more. More was what he wanted to give her and he wanted to take. Her hips arched and plunged against his until he was senseless As blood fired through his veins he drove himself into her, claiming possession in frenzy of need and heat. She matched him beat for wild beat ,her fingers digging into his hips wanting more of him. Straining together to fall over the edge. They were out control the world fell apart and they burn together. Jagged breathes. Pulsing hearts together in need and desire. Need A Hand? Traffic had been much lighter than expected and when I pulled into the parking lot of the company where I was supposed to pick up my girlfriend, I was a bit annoyed that I'd have to wait almost half an hour before she'd come off her shift. I found an empty slot close to the entrance, killed the engine, and dug out a copy of my favorite men's magazine, which I had bought just an hour earlier. As I leafed through the magazine leisurely, looking at the pictures and reading some of the articles, my dick began to grow and soon throbbed demandingly against my tight jeans; after all, it's my favorite men's magazine for a reason! I glanced out of the window and found the parking lot deserted, so I began to rub my dick lightly through my jeans. After a while, I came across a pictorial at the back of the magazine that made my dick jump instantly. Two breathtakingly beautiful girls -- a blond with very large and probably not entirely natural tits, the other one with long, jet-black hair and smallish tits -- were playing with each other, caressing, kissing, and exploring every nook and cranny of their magnificent bodies with tongues and fingers and vibrators. Doing it with two girls had always been one of my favorite fantasies -- screwing one, then screwing the other, then back to the first, and all the while watching them make out and eat my cum out of each other. How many jack-off sessions had I spent dreaming of having two girls at the same time, knowing that my pretty but conservative girlfriend would always refuse to help make the dream a reality. And there it was, acted out right in front of my eyes! I fantasized about joining these beautiful lesbians for a hot threesome, taking their vibrator away and giving them my dick instead, shoving it into every available opening and leaving my cum deep inside for them to suck out again. I got more and more into my fantasy, and soon my dick throbbed so hard that I just couldn't ignore it any longer. Since I still had about fifteen minutes before my girlfriend would show up and the parking lot would remain deserted until the day shift ended, I was convinced that I would have complete privacy for a while, so I unzipped the fly of my jeans and released my aching cock from its confines. I stroked it forcefully under the cover of the magazine while I kept dreaming of a hot threesome with the girls in the pictorial, never doubting for a second that my jack-off session would remain my little secret. I was proved wrong a few minutes later. All of a sudden, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and heard the unmistakable click-clack of high heels on the tarmac. Before I could even begin to stuff my dick back into my jeans, the passenger door flew open and a pair of legs appeared in the doorframe. Female legs, long and muscular, nicely tanned, framed by a short, sunflower-yellow miniskirt at the top and matching high-heeled shoes at the bottom. Very beautiful legs, but definitely not my girlfriend's legs. The owner of the legs plopped down into the passenger seat a few seconds later and closed the door. "You're in the wrong car," I said gruffly, pissed off at this brazen invasion of my privacy, and adjusted the position of the magazine a little to make sure it covered my erection. She just smiled at me for a moment, then reached out and ripped the magazine out of my hands! "No, I'm not," she said sweetly and pointed at my crotch. "You need a hand, don't you?" "I got hands myself," I growled. "Get the fuck out of my car!" But she didn't get out of the car. She threw the magazine on the dash, leaned over, and wrapped her lips around the head of my dick! "Stop that!" I snapped as she started sucking and my dick went back to full rigidity within seconds. "My girlfriend's gonna be here any minute." "Then we better hurry up," she purred and sucked even harder. At the same time, she wrapped a hand around the base of my shaft and massaged it vigorously. I was dumbfounded that a complete stranger would do something like that, but considering my options, I figured that the fastest way to get rid of her was indeed to let her suck me off. My girlfriend wouldn't take kindly to finding her in my car, and if she found her in the car and my dick out in the open at the same time, there'd be hell to pay. So I grabbed her head with both hands and guided it up and down, sliding my dick into her mouth as far as it would go. She quickly picked up my rhythm and continued to bob up and down when I released her head again and leaned back in the seat, watching with a mixture of suspicion and fascination as she gave me head. Mad as I was, I was also extremely aroused and had to admit that she was a very talented cock sucker. The exquisite suction combined with the feathery touch of her tongue on the most sensitive spots, being sucked off in a public parking lot where people could come by anytime and see us, quickly raised the level of my excitement beyond anything I had ever experienced with my girlfriend. I grabbed the magazine off the dash and quickly flipped back to my favorite pictorial. The explicit but sensual photos of the two girls playing with each other and the ministrations of the chick sucking my dick combined into a single force that carried me away and pushed me over the edge of an intense orgasm. "I'm coming!" I groaned when the first jet of cum was already racing through my dick. Without missing a beat, she sucked even harder and swallowed each spurt of cum as soon as it shot out of me. Only when the last drop was spent and neither sucking nor massaging my shaft would produce any more, did she let my deflating dick slip out of her hot mouth and sat upright in her seat. While I checked my dick for cum she might have missed -- there was none -- before stuffing it back into my jeans and zipping up, she twisted the rearview mirror and checked her face. No cum on her face, either; she had really swallowed every last drop of it. Nothing had escaped her hungry mouth. Her mischievous deed completed, she hopped out of the car as suddenly and unceremoniously as she had entered. "Have a nice day!" she called out cheerfully before she banged the door shut and disappeared around a parked van. When my girlfriend showed up a few minutes later, my face was still slightly flushed and my breathing hadn't completely returned to normal, either, so I was a bit worried that she might notice something. Fortunately, though, she was tired after eight hours of stuffing lamps into cartons and didn't pay me much attention until we got home and wolfed down our microwave dinners. By the time she snuggled up against me in front of the TV and reached for my dick through the fly of my jeans, I had recovered from my earlier orgasm and was ready for her. Heck, I thought, having two girls within an hour was still not as good as having them at the same time, but dammit, I was getting closer! Need A Lift? "Would you like a ride home?" Cynthia was standing just inside the office door, doing up the zipper on her winter coat, as I came down the stairs on my way out to my car. She worked part time in our office as a data-entry clerk, and I knew she had no car and since she lived off the bus lines, she ended up having to do quite a bit of walking to get to and from work, her part-time wages making cabs out of the question. It was starting to get a bit cold to walk, so I thought she might appreciate the break. She looked up from her zipper. "OK," she said. "If you don't mind. Thanks, James." We walked out to my car in the parking lot, Cynthia a few steps ahead of me, rushing to get out of the chill. I watched her as I followed. She'd been working for us for about four years. She was in her late 40s, had divorced a couple of years before - around the same time I had - and she had two grown sons almost my own age, although you wouldn't think it to see her. She kept herself in great shape. She had long, straight black hair that reached down to her slender waist and a hard ass that said she still made it to the gym pretty regularly. Her tits were big and round, firm 38Cs, and she showed them off with the tight, form-fitting dresses she often wore to work. In the past few years I'd often fantasized about what it would be like to slide my cock between those luscious tits and to see those full lips with their bright red lipstick wrapped around it. "Are you going to unlock the car and let us in," she said, shivering with her arms wrapped around her chest, "or are you just going to stand there all evening?" "Huh? Oh, sorry," I said, fumbling the keys out of my pocket into the lock. Cynthia giggled and climbed into the passenger side. "I really appreciate this," she said as I started the engine. "You're sure you don't mind?" "No, of course not," I said. As if, I thought, my mind starting to wander again as I pulled out of the parking lot. At 32, I wasn't in as good shape as I had been in college, but I still managed to take care of myself, visiting the gym every now and then, and at six feet and 180 pounds I still had only a bit of a tummy to suggest that I earned my living sitting on my ass behind a computer monitor all day. Since the divorce a couple of years ago, I'd been doing OK with women and had had a few casual girlfriends, but I did go through long dry spells from time to time. In fact, I'd been in one for the past few months now, and the thought of Cynthia's tits popped into my head again. She lived on the other side of town and it took us about 15 minutes to get to her place, making small talk along the way. She directed me to her apartment building. As we approached, she thanked me again for the lift. "That was so nice of you," she said. "Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee, to warm you up?" "Sure," I said. What, are you kidding? I parked in the lot behind her building and we walked up to her second-floor apartment. The place was small. One room served as both living room and bedroom, with a loveseat against one wall facing a small TV and a double bed taking up the entire far end. There were two doors leading off the main room - a small kitchenette and the bathroom. "Have a seat," she said, draping her coat over the back of a chair at the small dining table and disappearing into the kitchen. I took my coat off and put it on the chair over hers and sat down on the love seat. From the kitchen came the sounds of Cynthia making the coffee. A few minutes later she reappeared with two steaming mugs. She set them down on the coffee-table and dashed back into the kitchen, reappearing with a bottle of Bailey's. "All I had was instant," she said apologetically. "I hope you don't mind. I'm having mine Irish," she said, shaking the bottle. "Like some?" "Sure." She poured a generous amount of liqueur in each mug then handed me one before settling onto the loveseat. It was a pretty cozy fit, and we tried to sit facing one another from either end while we talked. We talked for quite a while, mostly about work, and whenever our mugs started getting low, Cynthia would top them up with Bailey's. When the bottle went empty, she got a bottle of wine from the kitchen. By now I was feeling warm and a bit flushed from the booze. After handing me a full wine glass, Cynthia sat down, this time with her back to me, leaning back against me. "Do you mind?" she asked. My cock started to stir. I worried she might feel it through my jeans against her back. "No, I don't mind at all." She settled her head against my chest with a contented sigh. I wasn't sure what to do with my free hand, so I stretched my arm out along the back of the couch. "You're such a sweet guy," she said. "My husband would never do this. You know," she raised her arm back above her head and softly stroked my cheek with her arm, "just sit like this and cuddle." "Yeah," I said, not really sure what I was agreeing with. Her hand was still stroking my cheek, her fingertips gently brushing against my lips. Tentatively, I brought my arm down from the back of the couch and touched her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw and chin with my fingers. She smiled and sighed. I brushed my fingers over her lips and her tongue slithered out, gently touching the tip of my middle finger before sucking it into her mouth. I moaned softly and she released my finger, turning her face up toward mine. Her face was flushed and her eyes were half-closed. I lowered my mouth to hers and kissed her, softly at first, then more urgently as her lips parted and her tongue snaked out, seeking out mine. I rubbed my hand over her cheek and into her hair, combing it out, until she took my hand in hers and placed it on her right breast. Through the fabric of her blouse and bra, her nipple was rock-hard, and she groaned into my mouth as I started to knead her tit. We broke our lip lock just long enough to set the wine glasses on the table, then I stretched out on the couch and she lay full-length on top of me. I sucked the soft skin of her neck into my mouth and found her earlobe, running my tongue over it as I sucked, and I pulled her blouse from her slacks and ran my hands over the bare skin of her back. "Ohh, yeah," she said as my hands found the strap of her bra and undid the clasp. She raised herself off me and stuck her tongue into my mouth as my hands moved to the front and undid the buttons on the blouse. With her shirt open, I pushed up her loosened bra and ran my hands over her big, hard tits, the nipples the size of pencil erasers. I lifted my head off the couch and took her right nipple in my mouth, sucking hard, flicking it with my tongue and gently nibbling with my teeth. "Argh!" she said, wrapping her hand behind my head and pulling me into her chest. Then she pulled away and kissed me hard on the mouth. "Let's move to the bed," she said, her tongue snaking into my ear. She got up and walked the few feet across the room to the bed and sat back. I followed and took off her blouse and black-lace bra and went back to work on her tits with my mouth as I undid her pants. I pulled them down and laying back, she lifted her ass from the bed to let me get them off. Underneath, she wore a black lace thong, the thin strip of fabric disappearing into the crack of her luscious ass, with the black hairs of her bush peeking out from the edges of the triangle of fabric in front. I leaned down and ran my tongue up the inside of her thigh to her pussy lips, which were also wrapped around the thin strip of fabric. "Get undressed," she hissed. I stood and took off my sweater. Cynthia slid off the bed onto her knees on the floor in front of me and tugged feverishly at my belt buckle, then pulled down my pants and boxers, freeing my cock, which stood straight out from my body. Cynthia moaned and cupped my balls with one hand as she ran her tongue around the tip of my cock, poking into the peehole. I shuddered as she took the head into her mouth, still running her tongue around it, then with one sudden movement she took all seven inches into her mouth and I felt the tightness of her throat squeezing the head. "Ohh, ahh!" I moaned, wrapping my fingers in the long black hair at the back of her head as she started to bob back and forth on my cock. Cynthia was moaning too as she sucked me, and I could feel her saliva running down the shaft to soak my balls. Every now and then, when her mouth reached bottom, she'd pause in her bobbing long enough to snake her tongue out from around a mouthful of cock and run it over my balls. Then on an upstroke, she'd let my cock slip from between her lips and, looking up at me with her round brown eyes, she licked underneath my shaft as she rubbed my glistening cock all over her cheeks, taking first one ball then the other into her mouth and sucking gently, before deep-throating me again and bobbing up and down, faster and faster, as one hand rubbed my soaked balls and the other squeezed my ass. It took only a few minutes before I felt my orgasm start to stir in my balls. "I'm gonna cum," I breathed hoarsely. Cynthia moved her head faster, sucking harder and making slurping noises as she moved back and forth on my cock. With a cry, I grabbed her hair as the first shot of my hot cum erupted into her mouth. "Mmmm!" Cynthia moaned, letting the second shot hit the back of her throat before replacing her mouth with her hand, jerking me off as she held my cock aimed at her open mouth. I came on her tongue, and a few spurts hit her cheek, then she took me into her mouth again and pressed her tongue against the underside of my shaft, running it up and down to squeeze out the last of my cum. "Jesus!" I said, collapsing to my knees in front of her. I kissed her, pushing my tongue between her lips, tasting my cum in her mouth, licking it off her chin before kissing her again, feeding it back to her as Cynthia continued to gently stroke my now-softening cock with her hand. I reached down between her legs and felt the fabric of the thong was soaked. "Get up on the bed," I hissed. She climbed up and lay on her back. I pulled off the thong, spread her legs and dived right between them, burying my tongue between her swollen pussy lips. "Ohh!" she cried as my tongue flicked across her clit. I sucked her button into my mouth hard and pushed first one, then two fingers into her wet slit, rubbing hard and fast against the front of her hole. Her hips came up off the mattress and fucked back against my face. "Oh my god!" she cried. "Ohh, god, James, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, ohhh . . ." Her pussy gushed against my face and hand, her juices running down into her crack. As she came down from her orgasm, I kept right on eating her and finger-fucking her hole. "Move up here," she moaned. "I want your cock in my mouth." I shifted on the bed so that my crotch was in front of her face and, lying on our sides, I lifted her leg in the air to give me better access as she took my now-semi-hard cock in her mouth. I continued sucking her clit as I moved a wet finger from her pussy to her asshole. Her pucker was soaked from my saliva and the juice from her cum, so I managed to slip a finger in easily. Cynthia moaned and sucked hard on my cock. "Fuck me, James," she panted, releasing my cock. "Please fuck me. I want your cock in me." She rolled onto her back and I climbed between her legs. My cock slipped easily into her pussy and we kissed deeply as I pushed all the way into her, pausing for a few moments to savour the warmth of her tight pussy around my cock and her juices running down my balls. I fucked her with hard, deep strokes, then pulled out. "Turn around," I breathed, and Cynthia rolled over onto her hands and knees. I pushed my cock back into her pussy and she pressed back against me. I grabbed the cheeks of her perfect ass and squeezed them hard, then pressed a thumb against the pucker of her asshole. The tip of my thumb pushed in and the whole thumb easily followed. Cynthia was grunting as I fucked into her. She looked back over her shoulder and shook her long, black hair from her face. "Fuck me in the ass, baby," she said, her eyes glazed over with lust. "Put your cock in my ass. I know you want to." I pulled out of her pussy and pressed the head of my cock to her asshole, which was so wet from her juices that I slid right in. I stopped when the tip broke past the sphincter, to give Cynthia a chance to get used to it, but she pushed back against me with a frustrated, lustful wail until I was buried to the hilt. She lowered her head to the mattress and I started pumping in and out of her ass. "Oh god," I moaned. "Your asshole is so tight." "Fuck my ass, baby," she groaned. "You fuck my ass so good. Split me open. Ohh, god, your cock feels so good in my ass." I fucked her hard for a few more minutes, then pulled out and rolled her over onto her back. Raising her legs until her ankles were at the sides of her head, I positioned myself and pushed my cock back into her asshole. As I started pumping hard again, Cynthia reached down and started to furiously rub her clit. When I leaned down and took a nipple in my mouth, she started to wail. "Oh yeah! Ohh, oh oh! I'm cumming! Oh, fuck me hard, fuck my ass hard baby, I'm cumming!" Her asshole squeezed my cock tightly as I continued to pump through her orgasm. I could feel the tingle start in my balls. "I'm gonna cum," I panted. "Cum in my mouth, baby," Cynthia hissed. "I want to taste you. I want to suck your cum." I fucked her ass hard for another minute, then pulled out. Cynthia quickly moved into position to take my cock into her mouth and as she squeezed my balls, I unloaded in her mouth. She didn't swallow - she held my cum in her mouth and let it coat my cock as she moved back and forth on it. When I was done shooting, looking up at me with a smile, she swallowed what was in her mouth, then licked my cock clean. We collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, Cynthia smiling as she lay her head on my chest. "So," I said, "do you think you'll need a ride home again tomorrow?"