Wednesday, August 24, 2005

For 'S'...my secret fantasy.

Re: Why This, Why Now?

“What do you want?” he asks. He is sitting in the dark room; it is almost empty…the couch, his chair, the television. A stark space with only the moonlight coming through the naked window, a little breeze. She is overwhelmed by his presence. She clicks the door shut and turns to face him.

Her lips part to answer.

“I don’t care what you want,” he says. She can hear the flatness in his voice. His legs open wider; he sits up straighter.

“What do I want, girl?” he asks, his eyes focusing on her in the dark. She puts down her purse, squinting at his silhouette. He is motionless, silent.

“You want to be pleased,” she says, softly. She licks her lips, leans against the door. He nods, liking her answer.

“How will you please me?” he asks, shifting in his seat. He looks her over, impassively.

“Your wish is my command,” she replies, smiling a little.

“Of course it is, slut,” he nods, grinning wickedly. Her smile disappears. He motions for her to come closer. She steps forward into the silver light, eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“Everything off, immediately,” he says.

She pulls her shirt over her head and shakes her long brown hair free; she unbuttons the front of her jeans and slides them slowly down her legs.

“Faster,” he commands. She kicks them off, unclasps her bra and drops it onto the growing pile of clothes.

“Where are your panties?” he asks, his voice cool and jaw tight. She shrugs.

“That is not the answer I wanted,” he growls softly. She swallows and he stands, taking quick steps toward her until their bodies are inches apart.

“Where are they?” he repeats, mouth inches from hers. She looks at him, silently…preferring no answer to the truth.

“Down. Now,” he orders, fingers curling into tight fists. She drops immediately, penitently…knees slamming into the hardwood floor, wincing. He slides his foot between her thighs and kicks them apart. She keeps her eyes on the floor.

“Are you wet, slut?” he asks, softly. She nods, slightly. Blushes. He looks at her, cloaked in moonlight, bowed and obedient for him. He can see her heart pounding between her breasts and her gentle, steady breath lifting her shoulders. He steps around her; the curve of her backside is inviting.

“Show me,” he says, voice rough gravel. Her fingers slide slowly across her thigh and between her legs, weaving them into her slippery folds. She trembles slightly.

“It’s not for you, slut. Show me. Now!” he commands, his neck flushing with anger. She quickly holds up her hand and he can see the moon glistening across her slick fingers. He smiles to himself, then slaps her wrist away.

She flinches, cradling her smarting hand. He tucks his fingers into her hair and yanks her head back; she winces, squinting through the pain and staring at his upside-down face. Her lip trembles and she chews it calm.

He leans down, “It would seem that you are pleased…but this isn’t for you.”

He pushes her forward and she catches herself, palms slapping the floor as her hair spills around her face. He likes her on her hands and knees. He steps farther around her, circling her and stopping again in front of her bent head. She can hear the zipper, see his pants pool around his ankles; her belly flutters, deep down and her pussy is hot. She knows better than to look up.

“How will you please me?” he says, evenly. She can hear him stroking himself and she shifts on her knees, whimpering.

“I will suck you,” she whispers, nails scratching into the floor anxiously. He almost laughs.

“Yes, you will. More,” he demands.

“I will swallow you into my throat, slide your thick, hard cock over my warm, wet tongue. I will choke on you, I will stop breathing for you. I will cough and gasp, but beg for more. I will slurp your dick hungrily until you cum; and I will eagerly swallow every drop.”

He strokes himself slowly, enjoying the sight of her desire. He can see her trembling, knows she is dripping, melting.

“Do you deserve to swallow me?” he asks, cruelly.

She whines softly, peeking up at him. He glares at her and pushes her head back down, roughly. Groaning, she shakes her head.

“You don’t,” he tells her, ice in his voice, “I will cum on those beautiful lips, but you aren’t to swallow any of it, girl.”

She moans, but nods.

“Good,” he says, yanking her by the hair to his lap, “Please me.”

2 Comments:

Blogger Jerk Of All Trades 2.0 said...

Did a bee sting your lip?
Holy......

8:05 AM  
Blogger macaroon said...

No, but once, upon eating a strawberry popsicle (which I am totally allergic to) they hella swelled up and I couldn't close my mouth...it was like Goldie Hawn in The First Wives Club (saw it with my mother...she goes in for those sort of things; though Bette is very cool).

S, not better, just written about it more often...wicked grin...you'll get more detailed as you fantasize more and I can't wait to read um. I've reread yours a bunch now. And, you're welcome to punish me. Hee hee.

Very bad...so VERY hard, please!!!

(See lola beg. Beg, lola, beg.)

10:33 AM  

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