♦ The bad thing about not having any housemates around is that you start to think it’s a good idea to come to your bedroom door in nothing but pyjama bottoms and lean cross-arms and full-breasted against the door frame.
Crush spent the next hour or so showing me that actions have their consequences.
Standing on the landing just below his head was at the perfect height for him to press his face into my bosom. He kissed at my nipples enthusiastically, occasionally stopping for a quick rest on his makeshift pillows. He flicked his head up to look me in the eyes before taking me by the Standard Female Grab Area and pushing me smoothly backwards into the room.
As my calves found the foot of the bed, gravity became Crush’s accomplice and the two tipped me onto my back on the soft duvet. Crush knelt over me triumphantly before quickly grabbing me by the wrists and hoisting me bodily further up the bed. My right wrist was pushed hastily through one of the red rope ties that constantly adorn our sturdy headboard. Its companion followed soon after.
Snugly restrained, I let him pull the pyjamas from my legs, not expecting him to immediately throw them over my face. I stayed quiet under the fabric that all but obscured my vision. I could have struggled, could have probably tossed it from my face if I’d tried, but I wanted to submit. Crush is, in general, a less kinky sort than me so I delighted in the idea of him taking control, of him living up to what I’m sure is a natural dommishness hidden inside him. When he tries he has a flair of talent, but he doesn’t always feel the desire to try. I loved the idea of him wanting to now.
With my sight mostly blocked I didn’t see him remove his clothes, only realising he had when I saw a dart of skin pass my vision on its way to The Drawers. Pulling something out, he turned his attention to me again, taking the fabric from my face and throwing it casually to one side. He kissed me lovingly yet somewhat forcefully. He tasted good on my lips and tongue.
Suddenly I caught a glimpse of what he’d pulled from the top drawer. He was wielding the ruler again. Seeing I had rumbled his plans he grabbed at my legs, twisting them over themselves so that my bottom half was turned, baring my behind as best as possible.
The ruler came down fast on my cheeks, making me wince and moan and causing sparks of sensation to spring forth inside me. He spanked me hard, my hands tied to the bed and my arse roughly displayed to him. I loved it.
Returning me to splayed-out-on-my-back-helpless mode he put down the ruler and picked up a wicked glint in his eye.
He straddled me, his form naked and towering, his gorgeous hard-as-marble chest taut above me, his swollen cock jutting warmly from his body. It’s a big ol’ thing, so even fully erect it took no more than a slight lean forward from Crush to have it brush downwards against my cool skin. He did so as he placed a hand at each of my nipples and began to pinch. Not to squeeze, not to caress, not to pluck but to pinch. He was hard and rough and remorseless as he pressed my poor nipples into pleasure/pain and me into willing submission.
He kept it up, squeezing and pinching as I began to struggle underneath him. At first I accepted his treatment gladly but now I bucked at the pain being pressed into my aching buds. I turned my face sideways into the pillows and writhed into them. He was being cruel and he was enjoying it. He was enjoying having me wriggle and moan under him, having me helpless against him. I kicked out, wrestling-style, but no ref stepped in to save me and finally all I could do was say “Please…”. Please stop.
I couldn’t take any more. As he released my breasts from his grasp the pain/pleasure turned to a lovely warm ache that made me wish I’d never said anything, that made me sure I could have taken more. I’m glad I didn’t though, because moving on to the next part had its merits.
At least, once he let me, that is.
That’s right. He made me beg. I told you he was a natural, really. He asked me if I wanted him inside me, to which I of course said yes. He told me to beg. “Please,” I said, “please, I want you to fuck me. Fuck me”.
“Louder,” he said. I raised my voice and asked him please to fuck me. “Louder”, he repeated and I spoke loudly. “Louder,” he insisted and I practically shouted out “Please, just fuck me! Please!”
After spending what seemed like an age rubbing his cock over the folds of my pussy, he finally deigned to slip it inside me. By slip, perhaps I mean shove. Good lord, he’s so fucking big sometimes! The first thrust of his sex within mine is always like nothing else. Indescribably divine. I think one day I’m going to have to devote an entire blog post just to trying to describe what it feels like.
He fucked me then. He took me. He drove into me with hard, unforgiving thrusts as I squealed in pleasure and bucked joyfully at my ropes. I could feel the length of his cock slide into me and out with each stroke. He looked like a young god.
Crush placed his hands on my breasts to steady himself as he toiled but then began to pluck at my nipples with his fingertips. I felt the long, slow climb of the rollercoaster near its peak and pleaded with him to squeeze harder, harder. The plunge started and I rattled breath-takingly fast down into the dark, close tunnel of orgasm, my world shrinking to the size of this room, this moment.
He came, neck strained, head back and gasping. When our ride was over he pulled out and I thought that we were done for the time being.
But Crush had other plans. As I lay there still tied to the bed, he reached back into the top drawer, pulled out our Basic love egg and placed it tantalisingly between my legs. He flicked it up to the lowest setting and a small buzz started on my clitoris. As my tension climbed he raised the pace to match and soon the vibrator was on its highest speed. He released my right hand from its rope and gave me the vibrator, instructing me to make myself come with it.
And I did. And I did again. He still held the control box, I merely held the egg, and I knew that he had all the power. He was the one who could make this stop, not me. I was going to hold that little vibe tight to my clit until he deemed it over and turned off the machine.
Soon the buzzing was too much, in a good way. I was wriggling and writhing and moaning and coming again and again. Gorgeous and torturous though this was there was a limit to how much of it I could take. Crush finally relented and turned off the vibe but not before my last orgasm caused me to squirt a little, adding to the sopping mix of his come and mine.
All in all, it was a good hour or so. ;) ♦