I writhed and wriggled under his deft ministrations, and one final time he brought me to the precipice, the edge of crisis, and then he stopped, standing up. I groaned my exasperation and craned my neck over my shoulder to look at him. He had coiled the braided rope in his hand, and was now
walking to my side, and in front of me. He gave me a light tug, and I followed him on all fours, feeling my slickness leaking out of me.
He led me to the platform, up the lone step, and there he gestured for me to climb onto the bed. I did, and sat, heels beneath my thighs, knees bent, and hands in my lap. He let the leash drop and began to remove his clothing while I watched, delighted, hung, and dry
Javier undid the buttons to his shirt at an interminable pace, and my heart skipped a beat when he finally cast the expensive fabric off, his chiseled body like a Greek god’s, carved from granite. His fingers went to his belt buckle, and he slipped the leather out of its loops, before dropping it to the floor at his feet. He pulled his trousers down, stepped out of them,
and was left standing in his boxer briefs, form-fitting, clinging around the shape of his enormous, hard, and curled cock.
My eyes were on his crotch, and never left while he pulled down his underwear. I watched with a mixture of fascination and longing as his manhood shot out, beading droplets of his arousal copiously. His thick veins spoke of an unmatched virility, and the smooth surface of his tip seemed to beckon my tongue.
He stepped forward to me, bringing his manhood to within an inch of my face. And he watched me, and my eyes traveled slowly up his body to meet his eyes. I was waiting for his permission.
Javier nodded at me, and I surged forward, taking his manhood into my mouth. I gripped him at his base, began to slowly tug him, and worked him feverishly, swirling my tongue around him, touching him where I knew he would be sensitive.
I worked angrily at him, as though it provided me with the release he had denied me over and over again. I bobbed up and down on him, opening my throat and taking him deeper than I had ever taken a man before. I stroked him rapidly, determined to bring him to the edge like he had done me. I didn’t know yet if I was going to back him off like he had also done me, or if I was going to bring him to bear.
The mild saltiness of his arousal juices only whet my appetite further, and I realized that, deep down, I did want him to finish. I wanted to taste him, feel his pleasure, and hear it burst out of his lips.
I felt a cool touch on my back then, and he slapped my thigh with the curved toy, before hooking it around my leg and encouraging me onto my knees. On all fours again, I blew him as best as I knew how, and he dragged the dildo down my spine before I felt it slip down the curved cleft of my ass.
I yelped when I felt the tip around my pucker, and I clenched instinctively, but he did not abate. He rubbed it around my tight ring, and I struggled to focus on his manhood inside my mouth, wondering if he was going to put that thing in my ass.
He took my leash now, and I couldn’t see what he was doing, so
chanced a pause to lean back and look. His hand came roughly to the back of my head, and pushed me back down onto him, impaling me on him.
“I’m attaching your leash to this hook,” he told me matter-of-factly, though I could hear the tension in his voice. I knew I was pleasuring him, and it made me glad inside.
When he had finished, I felt the curved dildo at my pucker again, only this time it was leashed to my collar. The moment of realization dawned on me. He took a step back, and I tried to follow him with my head, but pushing my neck forward, pulled the dildo against my pucker.
“Deeper,” he commanded me, hand on the back of my head. I had no choice. I blew him deep, feeling the bulb of the dildo press against my tight ring with each bob of my head. I sucked on him feverishly, all the
while acutely aware of the toy threatening to penetrate a hole in my body I had never, ever been interested in stimulating before.
I groaned as he took a step further back, forcing me to push my neck forward even more to swallow up his manhood. He stepped forward, a moment of respite, and I felt wet fingers on my pucker. Then he was
stepping back gain, and to my horror, as I leaned forward, my muscles loosened, and I swallowed up the dome of the dildo.
I moaned onto him, my ring surprisingly sensitive. I wanted to gasp and let him out, but his hand weaved through my hair like dogs in the woods,
and he pulled me back down onto him, leaning back, his muscles coming into sharp relief as he impaled me ever deeper.
He thrust into me, pulling my head down, pushing the dildo further into my ass by way of the leash. I greedily accepted his manhood.
Javier pulled out of me then and climbed up onto the bed behind me. He looked at his handiwork, of the dildo that was no doubt buried an inch into my pucker, and he told me, “Look down,” and I did, and I felt the dildo slide further in.
I felt his manhood at my entrance, felt him slidslidide me easily,
and I moaned out in pleasure as he filled me up, and stretched me more than ever before. I bucked back angrily against him, punching my hips into his
crotch so that I took him whole, right to the hilt.
He gripped my hips, and held me tight, and his fingers were fire on my skin as he began to take me. Each movement of my head, each moan or thrash, manipulated the toy in my ass, and I could feel it, feel him,
separated by just the thinnest of membranes. It felt incredible.
His fingers found my nubbin, and he rubbed me while he fucked me, telling me with a hoarse voice to keep my head down. I did, gripping the sheets beneath me, eyes clenched, lover and toy inside me. He slammed against me, again and again, his fingers magical on my pearl, and I was a
spring coiled up too tightly, ready to explode.
“Not yet,” he growled, slapping my ass hard. “Not until I say.”
I swallowed, but nodded, struggling to fight the rising physical tide of bliss I felt within me. The wave was bearing down, and I knew that I
could not last long, especially not as his fingers danced on me, as he continued to claim me as his from behind.
He reached forward and forced my neck down more, and the dildo penetrated my pucker deeper, I groaned, rapidly approaching the cliff, the point of no return.
“Javier!” I hissed.
“Obey me,” he said, and I nodded, biting my lip, forcing back my impending ecstasy. His thrusts grew wilder, harder, and I gave myself to him, let him plunder from me the pleasure he sought before I could get my own.
I heard him groan, felt his body tighten up, felt his hand clasp a fistful of my ass. He breathed my name, another touch on my soul, and goose bumps shot up over me as I mewled and moaned, waiting for his permission.
He brought his quivering manhood completely from my body, and I felt horrifyingly empty before he plunged back inside, put his hand on the back of my neck, and squeezed it. “Now you may.” He did the same again, and I shrieked out as he worked my pearl with abandon, as he plunged deep inside my canal.
“Ohhhh!” I cried as I crested, my world turning a blinding white. I heard him grunt and felt him harden, and I knew he had reached his crisis as I had reached mine. I flexed and tensed and tightened up as pleasure ripped through my every nerve ending, as I was finally granted that release he had denied me for days.
It rocked me from the inside out, spread outward from my center to my toes, and for a moment, for an intense and surprisingly long moment, I was between worlds, my mind overwhelmed, consumed by white-hot bliss.
And then it was over, waning, and I was coming down from my peak, and so was Javier. He leaned over me, his hot body on mine, his sweat mixing with mine, and held onto me, arms wrapped around my waist, lips in between my shoulder blades. He was still hard inside me, I could still feel him.
“You are amazing,” he told me. I blushed. Somehow, I felt amazing. I heard him unfasten the leash from my collar, and then he slipped the dildo out of my ass, forcing me to wince. He slipped himself out, then, dragging out with him all manner of fluid, both his and mine. I felt its warmth on the insides of my thighs, before falling onto my side, exhausted, panting, but replete.
He lay down with me, cradled my still-collared neck in his hand, and brushed away hair that was stuck to my forehead. He kissed me, then, and this time it was different. No longer was it filled with brutal, primal
animalism. It was tender, and caring, and I pressed myself into his arms, whispering, “Hold me.”
He held me, and we lay together, attached from head to toe.
“Stay with me,” he said after a moment. He kissed my forehead. The different forms of intimacy took me by surprise. I thought about his question, thought about what that meant, what it entailed. Would I just be another mistress to this billionaire? Would I just be his flavor of the month,
something specific he needed right this moment?
Or was he asking for more?
“Because I’m falling in love with you.”
I swallowed. The words hit me like a hammer thumping on my
chest.
“Okay,” I whispered. I nodded, unable to stop a smile from pulling
at the corners of my mouth. “I’ll stay.”
*