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Tick Tock

"Fifteen minutes of fun"

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It was unusually cold for early November. The temperature, the freezing fog in the air felt more like February. I've pulled my coat tight on my chest and fastened the belt without doing up the buttons. I found myself daydreaming about him, while loading the numerous shopping bags into the boot of my car. There was only a very little chunk of time lately, which I did not spend thinking about him, about us.

Was he out of bed already, I wondered. Or was he still in his bed naked, watching Netflix or porn and masturbate, as he sometimes does in the morning on his days off? As he did last weekend... The only weekend, I was not there with him. How pathetic and so against my orders. Such a naughty little boy. I need to punish him the next time I see him. I slammed the boot shut with a grin on my face. I got in my car and heat started spreading in my chest. Was it the warmth trapped in my car from earlier on or was it the effect of my steamy thoughts, occupied by the images of his naked body flexed against my bedroom door awaiting the bites of my crop. How many times did he say he came that last weekend? Five? That is fifty strokes, Mr.  

What porn was he wanking to anyway? I'm pretty sure I've asked him already, but I don't think he gave me an answer yet. I wanted to know. I needed to know. Was he doing it now?, I wondered.

As a matter of fact, no, he wasn't, as I found out from the phone call, that came just before I started my engine. Instead, apparently, he was standing at my door getting soaked in the freezing drizzle.

Silly boy. Silly, silly boy, I kept thinking as I raced home.

'What the hell are you doing here?' I attacked him, when I found him on my doorstep. I can't say, I like surprises. I'm too much of a control freak to like surprises. I need to know, I need the preparation, the anticipation. By just showing up like that, he robbed me of all of those things.

But then again. He was here. He was here, for me to play with. 'I could have picked you up from the train station, silly boy.'

'I wanted to surprise you.'

'You surprised me all right. You cannot just show up at my house as you please.' I was ecstatic to see him, but I was also cross, when he was just following his childish head like that.

When he disobeyed my orders or did something without my approval, three things happened:

1. It made me angry and a bit panicky, because knowing my soon to be ex husband, it was just flat out risky. After all, we are talking about a man, who made it his life objective to make mine miserable.

2. Every time he disobeyed, no matter, how I liked to play the strong, put-together dominant adult, it reminded me, that our relationship was built on constant power games. When he displeased me, I could never be sure, whether he did it on purpose and he wanted me to be angry and punish him or it was call for combat and basically telling me, he can do whatever he fucking pleased. These very power games kept us in the first, adrenaline fuelled phase of relationship, even after several months.

3. As a result of the above two, mainly the second one, I got turned on. I've looked around at the neighbouring houses, while my hand found the key in my pocket and pushed it into the lock. We were still not officially an item, and my divorce was not finalised, so I avoided kissing him on the street. But once I opened the door and nudged him through the threshold, I couldn't keep my hands and other body parts off him.

The heat inside was like a slap on the face and a punch to the stomach. Wearing my stiletto boots, I was the same hight as him and after planting a wet hungry kiss on his lips, I started kissing his face, his cheeks, his chin, his forehead, his ears, while my arms held him tightly close. His skin was cold and raindrops were dripping from his blonde hair and running down his cheeks. It reminded me of our many sessions under the shower, except this time he was inhumanely cold. His skin, his hands, his face were stone cold. It made me want to pull him even closer, to lick his skin even more. I breathed hot air onto his face and ears and rubbed his cheeks with my palms.

'It's nice to see, I still have the same effect on you, as when we first met,' he smiled when I gave him a chance to breath. I failed to understand this chemistry myself. He was unmistakenably not the hottest guy I've ever dated. He was barely average. But there was something in him, I couldn't get enough of. He made my heart race and my pussy dampen like no other man before.

'Just trying to warm you up,' I said innocently, pushing him against the wall, which was covered with big winter coats hanging on the hooks. His torso sunk into the pile of them. I've seeked out his hands, which rested on my stomach, lifted them up and pinned them against the wall. They too, sank into the depth of clothes on the hooks. 'What were you thinking, showing up like that? You are playing dangerous games...You..you..' I couldn't finish the sentence as his rough lips took revenge for my earlier attack.

'I only have fifteen minutes before I have to pick up my daughter from nursery,' I warned him.

'That's enough.'

'Enough for what?' Obviously I knew, but I wanted to hear from him and I wanted to know exactly, what he had in mind.

'To do you.' His grin made it obvious, that he knew the effect of his words on me. Somehow he always found the perfect things to say to me. That's how he lured me in, in the first place. Only about two or three days into our online fling, he somehow said my top three favourite sentences/phrases, easily earning his way into my panties. Now he seemed to have just found my fourth one, even though, that one has not registered with me before. Our connection was astonishing. The games, the teasing, the impossibility to predict which way our current affair is going to go kept me dizzy and aroused forever. Up until that point I was sure, that he is going to be my usual plaything for the day and I will get to punish him and toy with him. But with that one sentence he effortlessly took over, just like that. Clearly and affirmatively, letting me know that today, he was in charge. No mistake about it.

'I missed these,' he said opening my coat and unbuttoning my blouse. Pulling down the front of my bra he blew a kiss onto each of my suddenly erect nipples.

'Ahh.' I was already wet by the prospect of him 'doing' me, but by touching my buttons, he woke an urgent need within me.

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I wiggled out of my opened coat and top and let them freefall to the floor. I would have helped him out of his clothes too, but he was so lost in my cleveage, so busy licking and sucking me, that I wouldn't have wanted to stop him for the world. Instead I dug my fingers into his hair on the back of his head, pulling him forcing him onto me. Then through his soft moans which hardly broke the otherwise silent house, I heard the ticking of the kitchen clock.

I couldn't see it, but I could visualise it in front of my eyes with its big angry red face and terrifyingly large, abstract numbers, as it was about to strike 12:00.

He noticed my frozenness and came up to have a loud intake of breath and voice his disapproval, 'I do not like distraction.' We both knew, he was referring to the so many skype sex sessions, which had been interrupted by the members of my household often. Then we both smiled at that not so distant whimsical memory. He looked at his watch and reassured me, we still had eleven minutes. We quickly got rid of his clothes too and as I was pulling down his boxers I stayed down there and took him into my hungry mouth. There was only one thing I loved more than giving him head, to watch him and listen to him, while I did so. He was so damn passionate. And I was in love with the way he moaned. In the early days of our relationship, as much as I loved his dirty talk, I could just get off listening to him moan over the phone. I never knew a man, who could moan the way he did. He sounded so much like 'I really enjoy this, give me more,' making me want to give him more and go on forever.

Except the stupid ticking in my head. Tick-tock, tick-tock. I looked up at him, his cock still in my mouth and gestured 'time, please'.

'Eight  minutes.' he said annoyed. He pulled me up from my knees by my arm, pushed me onto the stairs on all fours and proceeded to remove my jeans. I suddenly remembered, that I'm not exactly wearing dating knickers, but I needn't have worried, as they flew off me, as if I had never been wearing them, landing on the stairs, in a  just-dropped-absentmindedly-during-my-morning-madness-minutes-rush style. I tried to crawl upwards, towards the bedroom in a childish futile attempt to escape his predatory moves, but he was pulling me backwards, holding onto my thighs. He held me secure there for a minute to let the anticipation grow on me before his mouth and tongue found my hotness. Digging my fingers into the carpeted steps, I stopped my trying-to-escape antics and opening my thighs, I offered myself to him indecently. My forehead, my shoulders, my ribs and my knees were also supported by the respective steps and I felt them pressing against my body as he licked me savagely. Pushing myself up on my arms, lifting my head up I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the full size hallway mirror: my eyes filled with need, my parted lips.. Sexy would have been an understatement. Irresistible was the closest word, I could come up with.

It's not like I have never seen myself during sex before. But I have never seen such animalistic raw lust in my eyes. If I had know, that having sex on the stairs is like this, I would have tried it a long time ago. Of course it wasn't just the stairs. It was him.

It was hard to tell, whether his mouth and tongue caused me to look that way or my aroused state was the very reason his mouth just couldn't get enough of my hot wet pussy. He trailed his tongue up and down between my labia, opening me, stretching me with his thumbs, clearly showing signs just how turned on he was too.

'You need to make me cum now,' I urged him.

Shockingly he did just the opposite; he stood up leaving me on the stairs like one of my daughters neglected dolls she has a habit of leaving all over the house especially on the staircase for me to trip over.

As he stood there all smug, it suddenly occurred to me that he did not have the intention to make me cum at all. He was looking for something in our play-bag. The black holdall, I bought many weeks ago, even before we first met and contained our ever growing arsenal of sex toys. Nowadays I kept it at his, it was easier that way, but now he smartly brought it along. He took something out of it, but I couldn't see what it was as he was with his back towards me. I was sitting up on the third or fourth step now shaking my head in disbelief. He approached me again, holding the object in his closed palm, hiding it from my view and with his other hand he pushed me back onto the staircase. He continued where he left licking me up and down like I was the cream in his oreo cookies. Then his licks wandered lower and lower also teasing me with his fingertips. When I realised what he was about to do I grunted and flexed myself between the wall and the banister, my left hand pushing against the cold grey wall, my right holding, supporting me slightly off the stairs almost in suspention. His tongue slid down between my ass cracks and lapped at my back entrance.

'Nooo,' I protested. 'you can't do this to me now! I have to goooo.' He sucked his finger wetting it and slid it into my tight hole with ease. 'For fucks sake,M.! You can't do this to me.'

He presented the butt plug and hurriedly pushed it into my ass.

'Now, you can go and do the stupid school run.' he said menancingly with just a slight edge of dispair.

There were so many things I wanted to say, so many things I wanted to scream and do. I wanted to punch him, slap him. But most of them all I wanted to pull his stupid head back between my legs and be the demanding, cruel persona I was under other circumstances. But he held my mouth shut with his palm and handed me my knickers with his other hand.

'You need to go.' he said matter of factly, disappearing into the kitchen.

I couldn't risk my daughter having to wait for me. I will never ever forget her tear soaked eyes when once I had a flat tyre and she had to wait an extra 15 minutes for me. 

Getting into my car I checked myself out in the mirror; my face still flushed, my eyes wide and lustful. I needed to pull myself together, which will be very difficult with my anal intruder as a constant reminder of what I've been up to earlier and what I'll be doing once I get home. Needless to say I was not my chatty self with the other parents today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Published 
Written by Annie_S
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