He was taunting her. She could hear it in his voice. His fingers were still moving inside of her, and her body was responding far more readily than she was comfortable with. “Well?” He pressed, with an uncharacteristic edge to his voice.
“No.” She finally whispered. “No, I’m not sure.” She waited for him to press her again, to further her embarrassment by making her admit the humiliating truth, a truth so obvious to them both as he plied her with his fingers and as she began to buck uncontrollably against them.
But, apparently, that had been a satisfactory answer and he released her wrists completely.
He moved away and as she turned her head she saw him straddle the couch behind her, his wrap discarded. Taking his cock in hand, he guided it towards her now slick folds. She closed her eyes again and groaned as she felt it make contact. It was as if a shock of lightening had flown straight up her spine only to explode somewhere in the back of her skull. Her eyes shot open again when a rough hand came down against her ass cheek even as the probing head of his cock forced its way inside of her with an indelicate surge.
The mix of sensations set off another explosion… this time much, much lower.
At another time, in another moment, she might have called it a climax. But it was too different, and she was too distracted by the new bloom of pain erupting across her skin, and by the heavy cock thrusting firmly inside of her to contemplate it. She could hardly think or do anything at that point. It was too different from any previous experience to be made sense of… or at least so much more than any other experience…
Too much. It was simply too much.
It was as if she lost all sense of time and place. As if she had slipped into some other space, some other way of being. To be completely in her body, completely inside the sensations… and yet removed as if watching from the outside, feeling everything and nothing.
There was nothing… nothing but the hot persistent throbbing along and under her skin, and a matching pulses of pleasure echoing from within. Deep within. He was there as well, pounding into her, spreading and impaling her. It seemed each time he filled her anew, another explosion went off inside of her, making her contract around him… but then perhaps that was the pain she was feeling… it was impossible to tell.
There was a voice, like a distant storm, coming from somewhere outside of her, but she couldn’t make sense of it. The of her own labored breathing filling her head and blocking everything else out.
She couldn’t be sure how much more she could take. Every second that passed, every thrust, pushed her that much further past whatever edge she had long ago plunged over.
She hardly realized it when he stopped. Not until she felt the palm of his hand pressed lightly against the small of her back and a trickle of cold sweat running up her spine… and the wetness between her legs… which was more than just her own.
Calliope blinked her eyes open, but they were blurred with tears and she was still resting her forehead on the couch. She could feel his hand, dimly through the red ache, as it caressed over her backside and thighs. The muscles of her legs trembled and she found herself unable to muster the energy to lift herself from her penitent position. She did manage to turn her head so that she could catch him in her sight.
He was breathing hard himself, staring down at her as he ran a hand up and down the length of her back. Despite the throb of pain and the involuntary shaking in her limbs, she felt herself calmed and soothed by his touch.
He knelt beside her.
One hand threaded into her hair, pulling her face up to his, the other ran gentle fingers over her cheek. Her heart pounded high and fast in her chest.
His mouth was light against hers, and his tongue almost tentative as it teased at her lips. She parted them and met his tongue with her own.
“You still taste like wine.” He murmured. She managed a shaky smile as he pulled away to look into her watery eyes.
“Girl-shaped cup.” she whispered. Her voice horse and uneven.
He chuckled and reached around her, pulling her limp, damp body against his. She was amazed at how cool his skin felt. Cool and damp, she noticed. It matched the shiver inducing dampness glazing her own body. “Woman-shaped” he corrected against her hair as he hefted her up into his arms. He grunted, “Name one ‘girl’ you know who could handle me half as well as you?”
She wrapped her arms weakly, around his neck and buried her equally weak smile against his neck. She was grateful he’d lifted her… she wasn’t sure she could have walked if she tried. “I can’t.” She murmured.
“Damn right you can’t.”
It was hard to tell if he was bragging or trying to give her a compliment. Probably both she decided with a sleepy yawn.
She could hardly believe how exhausted she felt. It was as if she’d swam the length of the Greek sea. Those parts of her which didn’t ache were as heavy as lead weights. She couldn’t even find the energy to be upset or confused about what had just transpired. She just felt… comfortably numb. Well, save for the persistent throb in her backside.
She was even more grateful when she was lowered, rather gently, onto the bed and covered. She felt another smile twitch at the corners of her lips as their sweat-slicked bodies pressed and tangled together under the light sheets and she used the last remnants of her strength to slide a foot along the length of one of his thickly muscled calves.
He growled appreciatively against her shoulder, making the expenditure of the last bits of energy well worth it.
She hadn’t come out unscathed, but it appeared her plan to ease his mind had worked, even if it had admittedly slipped well out of her control.
At least, it had mostly worked. He was certainly much calmer now she noted, but she could still feel a strange tension in him. It was radiating from him, like a palpable aura and it kept her from drifting off to sleep as she desperately longed to do.
“Master… are you alright?” she asked after ignoring the tension became impossible. It was a silly question, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She wasn’t awake enough to think straight, never mind be clever.
“No.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“No.” Forthcoming as always.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
That, at least, earned her a chuckle. “You already are.” He shifted, nestling his softened cock into her still heated backside and stroked the palm of his hand against the plane of her belly. “Now go to sleep.” He muttered against her ear.
That did sound like an excellent idea. But still…”You’d feel better if you talked about it.”
“Calliope…” he warned.
She smiled into her pillow. “Fine. I’ll go to sleep.”