She was tied to the bed, on her back. Her eyes were closed as they always were. That was one thing I always liked. While I like blindfolded women, and she does look beautiful with a blindfold, we rarely used one.
We had just spent the last four hours having the most amazing sex, and yet, here she was, waiting for more. Her breathing was increased just slightly, in anticipation. She doesn’t know what I’m going to do anymore, but she knows that she’ll love it. She always does. I kiss her gently and she sighs. I love all the sounds she makes.
I start out simply, by playing with her breasts. I squeeze just like she likes it: rough. Then I slowly circle her nipples with just my fingertips and she arches slightly into my touch, hoping for something stronger. I wait a little while, then I give her what she wants and she gasps and moans, two of my favorite sounds. It sounds so good that I have to pause to get a grip and not give her what she wants then and there. No, she doesn’t get it that easy.
I move my hands up to play with her neck, one of the other things that she loves. My hand closes around her throat, pressing lightly, then a little tighter. I can feel her pulse increasing, so I let go. Her lips are slightly parted, so I kiss her. She tries to reach me better, but I pull away, smiling. I love it when she’s like this.
“What do you want?” I ask, knowing how hard it is for her to reply when she’s like this. She told me so a while ago.
She struggles for about a minute before replying. “You, I want you.”
I reach over and pinch the nearest nipple as hard as I can, reveling in her moans. “What do you want me to do?” I ask.
She nearly cries out with frustration as my hands trail lightly over her breasts and circle lower, getting closer to where she wants me before gliding away. She pulls halfheartedly at her cuffs, yet knowing that I need to do this. “Inside. I want you inside me.” Her voice told me more than she could have. Layered with need, love, tinged with fear. Fear of just how much she needs me.
Knowing this, I make her wait a few minutes longer, even though I could barely restrain my need to be inside her. My hands trails lower, barely brushing her clit. Her breathing hitched only slightly, but I heard it. I could already tell that she was wet. She was wet for me and that sent a jolt of arousal deep inside of me. I couldn’t stop myself from thrusting as deep inside of her as I could go.
She cried out loudly, a sound which I could hear forever and never get tired of. When she was so close to having an orgasm, I pull out from her. This cry is one of pure frustration. Still a sound that I love. I circle her opening before running my fingers over her clit. I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck her juices off of them, a move that she never sees.
She knows better than to attempt anything at this stage. So I continue. I bring my hands down to her thighs, gliding on the inside of both of them, before cupping her. She pushes into me and I bring my fingers to her entrance again, pushing inside roughly. She sighs, as though my fingers were finally back where they belonged. I bring her close to the edge before pulling out again.
I repeat this for more than an hour, each time she get closer to orgasm faster, each time she sounds rougher. Even if I wanted to get her to say anything, I probably couldn’t. Then I do something that surprises her. I uncuff her. Immediately her hand goes between her thighs to relieve some of the tension, but I stop it before she even touches herself.
“No.” I say and she nearly looks like she’s going to cry. “On your hands and knees.” I request, but it’s not a simple request. It’s a demand. She realizes it at once and does what she was told.
Her thighs are a little too close for my liking, so I push them farther apart. I reach over beside her bed and grab her newest riding crop and paddle, placing them in her line of vision. “Pick one. “ I say in the same tone.
She nods toward the paddle, knowing that I’ve been longing to try it since she got it weeks ago. I appreciate it a lot more than I let on. I put the riding crop back. That will get used next time.
I start paddling her, loving the feel of the red leather in my hand, the sound as it hits her sensitive flesh, the marks it leaves on her pale skin, the sound of her cries echo in my ears and it feels like I could nearly come from the intensity of it.
She all but collapses as I toss the paddle down. I roll her over so that she’s on her back again. “Are you ok?” I ask, concerned.
“Please...” She pleads and I know exactly what she needs. My hand finds her wetter than she was before and I have to close my eyes as I push into her. I start off gently but when she tells me to go harder, I do. When she says faster, I do. It takes her less than a minute to come, which really doesn’t surprise me. What does surprise me is the intensity. I bring her down from her orgasm and she turns toward me.
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Submission Name: Submission
