I had this urge to make slow, sensual, passionate love with him. I could have asked for it, but I’ve never been good at voicing those urges.
We’d finished watching a movie that was epic in scope and yet a simple love story – the idea that love transcends time. He must have felt what I was feeling. In typical Dominant style, it manifested in a different way.
While I imagined slow, sweet kisses and secret whispers in the dark with smooth, sensuous lovemaking, he had a different plan.
“Roll over babygirl.” He pulled at my ankles, gently turning me on my back. I spread my knees, assuming I knew his plan. I braced myself for rough touches meant to bring me to the brink and keep me on the edge. I held my body stiff and tight.
He knelt on the floor, eye level with my bare pussy. He leaned in close. Would he eat me, lick me, nibble at my clit until I writhed uncontrollably on the bed, gushing fluids down his throat?
With the barest touch, he ran the tip of his finger over my skin. It felt like a gentle breath against my skin. He explored my body as if he’d landed in a new, untamed territory. My body was a wild thing, and he would tame it – gently and slowly.
My breath caught in my throat. Whatever I’d expected, this wasn’t it. He continued his gentle strokes, up one side, down the other. He never penetrated my body, only outlining the terrain of my pussy with one fingertip.
Slowly I relaxed, opening myself wider.
He seemed fascinated with his exploration, as if seeking to learn my sex in a new way and make new discoveries. He massaged the skin over my clitoral hood. It took him a moment, but he found the exact right spot. My moans, low and breathy up to this point, became more frantic. Desire bubbled to the surface.
“Daddy – !”
I croaked out the word, and he moved on to another hill or valley. Each time he found a new spot that made my moans become cries, he’d spend time searching for combinations of touches that made me writhe. Each time I started to beg, he moved on.
Finally, still with a gentle touch and no sense of urgency, he pressed against my body in the exact right way. My heels dug into the mattress. My breathe came in urgent gasps. I managed a barely coherent, “Daddy, can I come?”
“Come for me.”
My body blossomed. Molten heat poured out of my pussy. His fingers became soaked, as his touch moved easier. He never applied more pressure, only moving faster with the added lubricant of my body.
He was calm, patient, and nearly silent. As his touch quickened, I continued to climax, my body spasming as I writhed on the bed, hips bucking into the air, eager for more, always more.
Three orgasms later, I collapsed, completely spent.
He rolled me to my side as he joined me on the bed. As usual, he was only getting started. Pulling my bottom towards his hips, his cock slipped into my soaked pussy. Squelching noises accompanied each thrust. I moaned into the sheets.
His fucking was slow and gentle, exactly what I’d imagined I wanted earlier. One hand reached around and pinched my nipple, a fierce squeeze that made me squeak as my pussy shuddered around his cock. The other wound through my hair, pulling the strands in a burning grip.
His hands never stopped moving.
One moment, my nipple was abused and tormented. The next, my leg was swung over his hip as he cruelly rubbed my sensitive clit until I came uncontrollably.
First his hand was wrapped in my hair, then he held me still by my neck.
Each rough touch was in direct contrast with the smooth, sensuous movements of his cock. I gasped and moaned, squeaked and sighed. He never made a sound until…
“Aaahhhhhhhhh!” His pained groan cut through my fog as he pushed me against the bed, holding me in place, as he thrust deep and came hard.
Happy Masturbation Monday! Rough and tumble, sweet and soft, it’s all good to me! Okay, smutty readers, go forth and find out what the other writers and bloggers have in store for you this week. XOXO!