Saturday, November 23, 2013

His

He said he wanted me upstairs, so I made haste to get up there.  As soon as the door was locked he told me to kneel and show my tits.   

"Now suck".   

I took his cock in my mouth, at first sensually and then tightening my mouth gradually around his shaft.    He held my head tight and thrust in and out at an increasing pace, going right down into my throat and making me cough and gag.     When he thrust down hard enough to block both throat and airway I couldn't get a breath in at all.  He stayed right there.  That was when my hands started flapping and he told me to come.   The lack of air makes it doubly intense for me and my hands flapped harder.  He let me breathe again.  I'm his, always his.  I feel it down to my toes, only here for his pleasure.   Part of his pleasure is to control my orgasms, to send me into lost in pleasure at his whim, any time or any place.  With his cock in my throat.  At the breakfast table.  Anywhere. 

He pushed me down on the floor, lifted my skirt up over my hips and took me with one thrust.  So tight.  He praised my hole.   After he had come he stood up and told me to roll over.  

He placed his foot on my neck.  Pressed down.  Pressed a little more.  Not enough to hurt, but enough that I definitely felt that another few pounds of pressure and I'd be in trouble.  My eyes began to roll and my brain began to fall into space.  My fingers clenched into the carpet.

"You're mine."  









2 comments:

  1. That reminder is so intoxicating, isn't it?!

    hugs,
    fiona

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes it is! I don't know how often he'd have to say before it would stop causing that little jump and clench in my belly.

      Delete

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