Newness. A story by sparkle. (part 3)

13May11

(Read part 1)

(Read part 2)

Lying on my stomach, panting, I wondered if I’d ever get to cum.  S rose to his feet.  He kneeled at my right side and reached down to grab me by the hem of my t-shirt. S wrapped his hand in the fabric and tugged. “Get up,” he half-whispered. I got back on my knees, with his hand still firmly gripping my shirt, and slowly stood up. S’s mouth grazed my cheek. I didn’t even attempt to turn to kiss him.  I was statue-still, anticipating his next move, perfectly willing to relinquish control of my body.  I wanted that orgasm.  I wanted to cum all over him — on his cock, on his face, on his hands  . . . It mattered not.  It just had to happen. And I was open to anything.  Sensing my rapt attention to him, S asked, “Are we clear on who’s running things right now?” I gasped slightly, “Yes,” and didn’t even turn my face to look at him.  Something within me was wholly invested in being directed.  Was this submission?

S pressed his fist into the small of my back and pushed me forward. He directed me through the living room, upstairs.  We walked down the hall toward my bedroom. I couldn’t see his face, but I could sense the smile in S’s voice when he told me to drop to my knees, mid-hallway, and crawl. I was somewhat startled by his request, but obliged seamlessly.  I felt my breasts undulating as I moved forward on my hands.  I reached my bedroom door, and before I could reach up, S turned the knob.  He nudged me, with his foot, towards the bed.  I crawled over, completely unsure of what the next moment would bring. S told me to stand.  I obliged. He lifted my shirt over my head and pulled me close against his body. I could feel that bulge, his breath on my neck . . . S’s hands climbed from my hips up my ribcage, and around to my breasts. I drew in breath, afraid to talk, as he massaged and kneaded me.  His hands were hot, steady, and intent.  S kissed, then quickly bit, my back between the shoulder blades.  I shuddered. He moved one hand behind me to his waistline, opening his belt buckle. Fluidly, S dropped his pants, bent me over, and ran his hand over my pussy.  I felt like crying.  He still hadn’t taken my panties off. I sighed — no, I whimpered — and in the tiniest voice said, “Please fuck me.”

S chuckled, “I was wondering when you’d stop trying to be so coy. Girl, it would be my pleasure,” and pushed me down onto the bed.  He pulled at the waistband of my panties so slowly, so intently I thought I might burst. I squealed once he finally got them off and spread my legs happily as I turned over.  The air in my bedroom was filled with an electric current of anticipation.

He paused to study me. Finally, I was naked in front of him. On my back, legs spread, waiting. I watched his face, eyes taking in every inch of me. S reached over and ran one hand along my side, as if he were measuring me for something. He looked contemplative — intensely so — and I could only hope he was about to fuck me.

S stepped out of his pants and lay on his stomach, his head between my legs. He licked my clit and it felt like the first time.  I let out a guttural moan and bent my legs at the knee, while he worked his magic. I knew I had been brought back to zero by S’s playing, his orgasm denial and control of my pussy. As he brought me closer to climax, I begged again, “Please, fuck me. Please,” and felt my eyes watering.  It was too much to take. S slid two fingers inside of me and began to stroke as he backed off of my clit. I was soaking, possibly the wettest I’d ever been in my life, moments away from what I expected to be a thunderous orgasm.  And then, there were three fingers inside me.

I felt my pussy expanding, opening hungrily to his hand.  “It feels so fucking good,” I sighed, and felt myself tightening.  S changed his angle ever so slightly, and I responded in kind by cooing.  I could barely keep my eyes focused as he slipped in a fourth finger. I felt a shaking in my lower half, something I’d never experienced before. And as I got wetter, I lost all ability to form words or sentences. I just moaned and moaned as he fucked me silly with his hand.

Then, I felt it. S had his entire hand inside of me.  He wriggled it a bit, until his knuckles were against my g-spot, and ran his lips right along my clit.  S licked me gingerly, as if he knew what was about to happen next.  There was a tingle as every nerve ending in my pussy was on full tilt.  I arched my back as I felt the initial spasms inside me.  I gasped and my hips bucked wildly.  I shivered and shook so violently, I could do nothing but experience every last sensation.  Finally, everything slowed down and S pulled away.  Through my barely open eyes, I saw how wet his hand was — up to the wrist! — and felt kind of sheepish.  I grinned.

S lay next to me on the bed and pulled me close, “When you wake up from this nap, round two will start.”

Before I could even question him, I had drifted off to sleep.  I kinda couldn’t wait.

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Tags: D/s, Dominance, fisting, orgasm denial, pussy, short story, submission, teasing