Summer
Oh, the torture. Every bit of me is on fire, burning for him. My ass tingles, my swollen clit throbs. The plug gives me a feeling of fullness, and my pussy, well, my pussy just feels empty. I’d give anything to have Carlo’s cock in it right now. Or at least to have his powerful hands on me again, teasing, torturing, delivering pain and pleasure mixed into one.
But that doesn’t seem to be part of his plan. I’m about to lose my anal virginity, which makes me nervous. But I need release. Desperately. How long will he make me wait? How much more torture can I take before I lose my mind?
“All right, amore, back over my lap.”
I love the spanking. I could take any amount of pain, so long as I know it’s for his pleasure. I was unsure for a moment last time because he’d been so relentless. I thought he might actually be mad. But no, this is sex for him. A game. Carlo is a sadist, and it turns him on to play this way.
If he’s turned on, I’m turned on.
I trust him. When I was angry earlier, his only concern was to soothe me, to heal the rift between us. Now, though… now he’s playing. Bringing us closer by demanding my vulnerability and trust.
I walk back to him, the plug in my ass making me acutely aware of each step.
“I changed my mind.” His face is unreadable. “Get down on your hands and forearms and present that ass to me.”
I drag my lower lip through my teeth as I obey, lowering myself to the position on his soft plush rug. I’m close enough to him that I smell his intoxicating scent, feel his body heat, his magnetic presence.
He lifts my ankles, splays my legs to straddle his waist, so I’m in a sexual version of the old wheelbarrow position.
“Carlo,” I squeak in surprise. I’m totally bared to him, my ass and pussy open and centered over his lap, every private secret place accessible. The exposure, the humiliation, only makes my need flame hotter.
He grips the plug in my ass and pushes it in and out, fucking me with it.
I buck, squeezing my inner thighs together, finding his hard cock with my mons and rubbing my clit over it.
“Naughty girl,” he murmurs, pulling the wicked plug out to stretch me wide, then shoving it in, over and over again.
“Carlo…Carlo, please.” I need him, need him so badly.
He stuffs two fingers in my pussy, and I come, bucking and shivering.
The moment the orgasm stops, he starts spanking me again. It hurts a little more now, perhaps because of the orgasm, and yet I’d let him do anything to me. As the pain and heat grow louder, I begin to hump his clothed cock again, a second orgasm building from spanking alone.
Tears leak from my eyes-not of pain, simply from need for release. I need more, want more. Carlo can’t hurt me enough. Each slap brings me closer and closer to ecstasy, jostling the plug in my ass until I thrash my legs, squeezing his waist and rubbing shamelessly.
Before I come a second time, he stops. Pulling out the plug, he rubs my hot cheeks, squeezes and grips my ass with a possessive, punitive grasp.
“Oh please…”
“Get up.” His voice is rough. “Your gorgeous ass needs fucking.”
I orgasm just from his words- a ripple of clenching in my core. Without his strong arm around my waist, helping me up, I wouldn’t find my way back to vertical. I barely see the living room as he guides me to the bedroom.
“On your hands and knees on the bed.”
I move without hesitation. Probably if he told me to throw myself off a rooftop at that point, I’d jump without even looking first.
I hear him rustling in a drawer, and then his hand grips my ankle. He fastens some kind of leather cuff around it.
“Spread your knees wider.” I do so, and he slaps my inner thigh. The other ankle receives a similar cuff. “Crawl to the center of the bed.”
When I move to obey, I realize he attached a bar between the two ankles, keeping my knees spread wide. The idea sends a fresh surge of lust rocketing through me.
“Face down on the bed.”
I lower myself to my forearms and rest my forehead on the bed.
“Give me your wrists.”
Oh God. This is beyond vulnerable. It’s depraved. And of course, as frightening as I find it, I tremble with excitement. I turn my face to the side and reach back with my arms, bringing my wrists to my ankles.
He cuffs them both, attaching them to the same bar. My ass cheeks are spread wide for him now. His finger slides over my clit again, with more pressure this time-enough to pull a throaty cry from me.
Lube lands on my already stretched anus, and then Carlo’s behind me, on his knees. He continues to tease my clit with an expert touch as he strokes his cock with more lubricant.
Thank God.
My pussy quivers and clenches. I pant in anticipation. Will it hurt? Will he stop if I don’t like it?
Of course, he would. I trust him. Completely.
Carlo pushes the head of his cock against my entrance. “Deep breath in.”
I suck in air in a shaky gulp.
“Blow it out, slowly.”
As I exhale, he presses forward, prying me open with his huge cock.
I stop breathing and tighten against the intrusion, which of course, makes my anus burn.
“Take me.”
Two words. A simple command, and yet it makes my thoughts spin out of my mind. My anus relaxes, and he presses forward, stretching me, filling me.
“Jesus, you’re tight.” His voice is low and gravelly. “So fucking tight.” His hand wraps in my hair and pulls up while the fingers of his other hand still rub my clit. I couldn’t be more owned by Carlo Romano than I am right now. And yes, I love it.
He eases back and pushes in, bumping my ass with his pelvis and pushing my face into the covers. He fills and empties me over and over again. It’s far too much stimulation and yet somehow still not enough.
A high-pitched keening reaches my ears, but I wasn’t aware of making any sounds, my sensations awash in color and light. His thrusts come faster, and my squeals grow louder.
He abandons my clit and pinches one nipple. The other hand threads under my waist and slaps my pussy, spanking my wet folds until I scream my orgasm. Carlo mutters a curse in Italian and shoves deep inside me, the heat of his cum filling me.
Somehow, he must’ve unbuckled my wrists because he guides me down to my belly. He shoves his cock even deeper, using his weight to sink into me, his fingers stroking my slit now.
He bites my neck, my ear, sucks at my neck, his breath hot with passion. He murmurs something in Italian that sounds like an endearment.
If I could move or speak, I’d ask him what he said, but I’m incapable of anything at the moment.
“You okay, bambina?” He eases out and rolls me to face him.
“Yes,” I whisper, reaching for him because, already, he’s too far away.