I teased him until he obviously had enough – if him grabbing me and forcing me off of him was any indication.
He licked his finger and inserted it inside of me, curled up just right; he rubbed until I came.
And then he grabbed me and flipped me over. He fingered me to another climax as one hand on the small of my back held me firmly to the bed. His hand patted my butt, almost cupping the curve at the bottom. He did it rhythmically, consistently, soothed and lulled. He smacked hard, my body tensed and there went the fingers into my fold. Again, pat – harder, same rhythm – harder, smack. Fingers. Pleasure…. lulling… pain. He took the back of two fingers and flicked/backhanded me – the pressure more focused, more stinging. The fingers slapped at the crease of thigh meets cheek, around to the side of the hip, down towards the center, becoming more focused where my moans pinpointed him to the side of my crack.
Whack…whack…whack. His fingers hurt and stung and oh my god I was so wet. So fucking wet and ready. I begged him to come inside, whined, pleaded. After some time when the pain was almost unbearable, he leaned forward and rubbed the tip of his head between my folds. Slick, slippery, drenched, the tip teased between my lips- started at my greedy cunt and moved down towards my clit.
I was quite vocal about my need. I was ignored. He teased and then moved right back up to flicking my ass with the two finger backhand.
I went in and out of comfortably-numb-pleasure and ouch-hurt.
Again he leaned forward when it began to be too much, teased, and then leaned back and began the onslaught anew; repeated for what seemed like hours.
By the time he fully slide inside of me, my ass felt incredibly bruised and battered. “I don’t think you’ve ever been so wet,” he claimed, slid effortlessly in and leaned down on this elbows. “You need to cum?”
“Yes,” I panted.
“cum,” oh my fucking god how I clenched and came, his excited breathing by my ear.
“Again,” he ordered – not even letting me come fully down. “Again,” I shook my head to the third orgasm but my body tightened and climaxed anyhow.
He let me down, paused. “Now don’t cum,” he commanded.
My protest: “no,” oh how he rubbed inside of me,
“no,” the head parted the way,
“I can’t,” the shaft slid against my walls,
“I need…,” my tightening,
“…to cum,” gripped him, god he felt so good.
“No,” he reiterated. “No, not yet,” he slowed as if knowing I couldn’t obey. His hand went around my throat and he began moving in and out again again. “No,” against my protests. “No, don’t cum,” his breathing sounded harsh in my ear. “I will beat you if you cum.”
Those last words alone almost brought me to orgasm. Almost.
“I didn’t give you permission to cum,” he reminded me. He removed his hand from my throat. “Cum,” he finally gave permission, leaned slightly up to change the angle. “Cum,” he repeated. Oh god how I did!
I gushed and clenched and orgasmed and realized he had his hand over my mouth. He pushed me right back up to another, keeping the hand. I almost bit him – I may not have been able to but I felt like biting down on something.
“Oh yes…I’m cumming,” he shared, pushed now forcefully against me, my swollen cheek throbbed from where he hit me.
We orgasmed together. I sighed into the mattress, he breathed heavily beside me.
“So beautiful,” he said, brushed back some hair and stroked my back. “So good.” His hand rubbed down my body and fingertips grazed a bruised ass. I sucked in air- so unbelievably sensitive.
And he smacked me. I winced and jerked but another smack had me raising my hips and groaning.
Another session towards a bruised ass ensued.
And I lurched up to hands and knees and demanded he have sex with me, be inside of me. He put a hand between my shoulder blades and harshly forced me down.
Entering me, he thrusted until my noises clued him I was approaching an orgasm and then he stopped.
“Want to cum?”
“Then cum.” He still wasn’t moving but already I was pushing against the bed, grinded myself into him, rotated my hips, grabbed from the inside. I orgasmed and he didn’t move at all to help.
He must’ve had a thing for repetition as he did that two more times, moved until I was close and then forced me to grind against him to finish.
After the third time, he rolled over. Great heaving breathes, I barely had the energy to turn my head to the other side to face him. His fingers traced the bruises on my ass and I begged to be pleased. Fingers slipped in and pleased me, then paused and did it again. My body rolled into his as he did this.
He waited until I finished, removed his fingers and pushed me away from him.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that:
Rejected – I wanted to be close. Relieved – I wanted to be left alone.
He began stroking himself. “Go down and finish me when I say,” he instructed. I nodded a yes, and watching him stroke himself I moved down and sucked gently on his balls, licked down, listened to his breathing and noises of appreciation, felt his thighs tense. “Up,” he ordered me, “stroke it,” he added as my mouth dived down, lips teased the head, tongue flicked along the shaft. I sucked hard, my hand stroked in time to my mouth. “Yes,” he groaned, his taste filled my mouth. I slowed down, taking my mouth off last to lick him clean. “That felt so good,” he affirmed, reached down between my legs to finger me two more times before we finally were sated.
(To see the picture of my ass, click here.)