He held my breasts in a somewhat brutal grip — and brutal was just what I needed. Because he knew me so well, he sensed something was amiss when I walked into his home. I tried to deny it, but my life had been stress-filled for weeks, spinning out of control, and nothing I did seemed to set it right.
Neither of us spoke as he took my hand and slowly led me through the kitchen and down the steps to his bedroom. At the last step, he stopped. He pulled me close and kissed me gently before we walked to the king-sized bed in the center of the room. It had been three weeks since we’d been together, three weeks since we’d touched, since we’d tasted each other. That’s an extremely long time to go without one's lover.
Instead of rushing — like he probably wanted to — we lay together and he wrapped me in his strong arms. The simple gesture let me know he would listen if I desired to talk. But all I wanted was him: his touch, his body, and to see the look of lust that took over each time I was near.
I tilted my head back, looked up at him, and saw that lustful look as his lips came closer. Passion took over when our lips met. It was exactly what I so desperately needed.
Then he broke our kiss and stood at the side of the bed. A large hand reached for my leg and I yelped in surprise as he pulled me toward him. Looking up into his eyes, I raised my ass while he grasped the waist of my sweatpants and yanked them off my long legs. I didn't wear panties.
He undid his pants, stepped out of them, and stood between my spread legs, moving closer to my heat. We needed each other and this was not the time for patience. I bucked my hips, grinding against him as his hard cock nudged my dripping pussy. We quivered with need and he eased forward, slipping between my pussy lips.
He stilled for a moment, clearly relishing the feel of my pussy, before he pressed further, sheathing himself entirely in my hot depths. I heard him moan as I gently contracted my muscles, massaging his hard length.
Occasionally, he allowed me to tease him like that but there was never any doubt that he was the one in control.
"God, I’ve missed your pussy,” he groaned.
Not romantic words by any means. But knowing that he needed me, desired me, in the same way I needed and desired him, was all that mattered.
I saw the pleasure on his face as I continued to squeeze his cock and shove my hips against him, fucking him as he stood there, gripping my hips. He moved his hands up my sides to my breasts and grasped them, eliciting a deep moan from deep inside me. I felt the strength of his hands when he squeezed again and fingers closed around my nipples, pinching and gently pulling them.
Raising my gaze from the assault on my breasts, I looked into his eyes and moaned again.
"Do you want bruises?" he growled.
"You know it,” I flippantly replied, my eyes begging for the privilege of wearing marks left by his hands.
He responded by gripping me tighter, providing the pleasure of the pain, I so badly craved. There was no doubt that by the time he’d finished, my skin would be a canvas marked with purple and reds of our mutual desire and passion.
My words made him groan. He loved knowing I wanted to wear his marks and he thrust powerfully inside me, making me squirm. As my desire built, he drove us closer toward climax and I focused solely on how he felt inside me.
I closed my eyes, concentrating on his cock pumping me and on his hands fondling my breasts. As I enjoyed the many pleasures racking my body, he slapped me, his hand striking my cheek. We’d talked about this, my need for something more, for harder treatment. Apparently, he’d decided to give me a taste of what I wanted.
I admit the slap startled me — but only briefly — before I relished the jolt of pleasure that coursed through my body, ending within my pussy. I quivered around him, my body begging for more. And more is exactly what he gave me: more pain, more bruises, more love.
He withdrew his cock and stood back, gasping, I too gasped at his sudden withdrawal and begged him to come back, to fuck me, fuck me hard. He stood looking at me.
"Turn over,” he said and moved away.
I obeyed, stretching across the bed on my stomach. I heard the swish of the leather belt being removed from the loops of his pants.
"Do you think you can handle the belt?" His voice sounded heavy with desire.
Being a smart ass, I glibly said, "Shall we find out?"
I expected him to take it easy on me, but he didn't. The first lick of the belt against my skin made me jump and I yelped in pain. But I was determined to carry on, not least because I’d bragged about being able to take anything he could inflict on me.
In this case, I was wrong.
After three more strikes, and with tears in my eyes, I told him to stop. My sweat-covered flesh stung in a way I’d not expected.
He ran a hand over my ass, patting it gently. "You did better than I expected."
Sucking in a breath as I turned over, I sighed and flinched each time I moved. Rubbing against the sheets reminded me of the belt that had just spanked me. We looked at each other but didn’t speak.
I needed him inside of me now, needed to feel his hard cock fucking me. I also knew I wanted something more and he was always the one to give me what I wanted.
In the corner of my vision, I saw him reach for the belt. He doubled it over, creating a loop, and made a popping noise with it before taking a step back. I watched every move, preparing myself for the sting. The belt struck my thighs first, then my stomach. Red whelps appeared as, over and over, he lashed my body. I felt the pain, but more importantly, I now felt pleasure. No part of my body was left untouched. When he struck my breasts, my nipples hardened, and I suddenly came, drenching the sheet as I screamed in sexual satisfaction.
Tossing the belt aside, he moved quickly. Grabbing my legs and pushing my knees to my chest, he buried himself in me. Fast and hard, he fucked as I rode the waves of another orgasm. The look on his face was primitive, almost animalistic. He called me his slut and, as we looked at each other, he struck my cheek again.
"Can you take it harder?"
"Go for it,” I panted.
Before I could say anything else, he put one hand around my throat and used the other to brutalize my breasts. I moaned, the lack of oxygen heightening every emotion as blood rushed around my body. My pleasure was amplified when he released my throat and slapped me hard across the face.
My body clenched as once again my orgasm reached its peak. I screamed my pleasure, my pussy pulsed around his shaft, and he fucked me harder. His balls slapped my ass, his sweat dripped onto me. I was his and he always took care to please me. I came again, my body racked with the pleasure he brought to me. He wasn't done, though. He told me how he wanted to cum, how he wanted to see it covering my face, dripping from my chin.
Continuing to pummel me, he moaned and I rode even greater waves of ecstasy until he eventually slowed his pounding. Pulling back, he turned me over and grabbed his belt. Again, the leather whipped my ass and back, leaving another layer of red whelps. Before I realized what was happening, he pressed his hot erection against my ass, telling me how he loved my tightness, how he loved that I could take him.
When he pushed inside, he slid the belt over my head and around my neck. He pulled me up and back against his chest before he released the hold. I pushed back against him but he pulled away.
"Suck my dick."
I hesitated, but not for long. I turned, wrapped my hand around his shaft, and flicked out my tongue. I tasted a mixture of his cum, my juices, and my ass. Who knew I would enjoy that? As he moaned, he grabbed a fistful of my hair. For a few moments, I licked him clean, enjoying the debauchery of what was happening. In that moment, I was truly his slut. I would have done anything he asked in order to please him, knowing he would never take advantage of that submission.
He pushed me back onto the bed. Moving between my open thighs, he stroked his hard cock against my dripping pussy and plunged inside me in one swift motion. I wondered if I would ever tire of him, of the pleasure he brought. At that moment, I thought I never would.
He wrapped around me, arms on either side of my head, hands in my hair. Holding me close, we were one. Our eyes met, our souls connected, and I slung my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, and pulled him closer. Soon, I was panting, heading toward another orgasm.
“You’re going to make me cum again,” I gasped, pulling him even tighter to me. I needed us to be as close as possible. I wanted to feel every inch of him against me, in me. I wanted to feel his body quiver with the same need I felt. And it did.
With my fingers entwined in his hair, I came loudly and drew his mouth to mine. I kissed him, attempting to put all the emotions I felt into that one act.
As my climax ebbed, he pulled away, lifting me with him and I sat, perched on the edge of the bed, watching as he stroked his rigid cock. He was now doing what he wanted and he came, spurts of his seed hitting me in the face time and time again. I felt it drip from my forehead, down my nose and chin. The look on his face as pleasure washed over him, left me in awe. Drenched in his cream, I smelled his very essence, tasted him as his cum dripped down my face onto my eager tongue.
Coming down from our mutual high, I pulled him close and kissed him. When we parted, we sat catching our breath, still panting from the exertion. My legs were shaking as he moved me gently to the center of the bed. I was a quivering mess and he grinned, knowing he was responsible for my state.
He lay behind me, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. In that moment, we were totally content, happy to just be together.
