Your cock is beautiful – 15

“You want this cock, slut?” I hissed at her.

“Yes!” she gasped, “Please fuck me…please, I need it…”

I gripped her hair tighter, and felt my stinging hand ache as I squeezed my fist. I kept my face in front of hers, staring into her eyes and feeling her hot breath against my lips, her eyes wide and frantic. I grabbed the base of my cock and started to slide the tip against my pussy. I couldn’t believe just how much I wanted to fuck her, to dominate her. It was almost an animal need, in a way that I’d never felt so powerfully before. I wanted to hold her tenderly and tear her apart, both at the same time.

As the tip of my cock slid up her pussy, I ground it hard into her exposed clit. She gasped loudly and her hips bucked upwards.

“Oh God,” she moaned, “I’m…I’m going to cum again…please, please let me cum…fuck me, please, make me cum…”

I drummed the head of my cock against her clit and pussy lips in a fast rhythm.

“Do it, slut.” I grunted.

I felt her whole body go taut like a pulled spring beneath me, her head pushed back and her mouth opened in a silent scream. She gasped and exhaled loudly, and I felt a rush of hot fluid flow from her drenched pussy lips. I gripped her tight and finally pushed my cock into her, feeling the strength of her orgasm shake her body from within. I slid my entire length into her, grunting with pleasure as she began to moan again, her voice cracking. Her hips were shaking with an incredible intensity, and her tears continued to fall through closed eyes.

I finally allowed myself to give in to my lust, and began to pound into her, using fast, hard strokes to completely fill her tight pussy, which was still gripping and pulsing hard around my thick cock. Her orgasm seemed to last forever, prolonged by my cock pushing into her. There was an incredible freedom in this, I felt. I didn’t have to wonder what to do or say, or plan any more little manipulations for her. As much as I enjoyed seeing her suffer, it was so liberating to just be able to pound into her as much as I wanted.

She was still cumming, gasping and moaning to the point where her voice sounded hoarse. I noticed she was holding her legs up on either side of me, so I grabbed her knees and pushed them tight against her chest. It seemed to make her pussy even tighter, and as I thrust into her over and over, I felt my second orgasm approaching faster than normal, and decided not to try to hold it off. I was soon shooting out another orgasm so strong it forced a wild moan from my lips.

I kept my cock inside her as my orgasm passed. Her pussy was still gripping around my softening shaft as I pulled out of her, and her breath was still coming in shaky gasps and sobs.

I rested on my knees for a minute or two, just watching her. She was holding her legs in the air, her knees pressed against her chest, and her hips thrusting slightly in a steady rhythm as the waves of her orgasm passed, her toes curling slightly in time with her legs.

I leaned over her, wrapping one hand around her jaw and sliding the other into her messy hair. Her breathing slowed, and soon we were both still, and calm, looking into each other’s eyes. I gripped both hands and kissed her. I could taste a hint of my own sperm in her mouth, but I didn’t care. I broke the kiss, and pulled her up by the shoulders, guiding her to turn over. I moved behind her and unclasped the belt that was holding her arms. She sighed with relief as they fell limply to her sides.

I reached over and pulled her tub of cream from my bedside drawer. I quickly unscrewed the lid, and began slowly and methodically massaging the cream onto her bright red cheeks.

She began to sigh and laugh when I first touched her, and soon I could see her visibly relax.

“How do your arms feel?” I asked, putting the lid back on the tub.

I lay down beside her, and she rolled over onto me, clumsily trying to hug me around my neck.

“Numb.” she said simply, and giggled. “Tingly.”

I’d read enough about bondage to know that, while numbness is usually a warning sign to be more careful, it can take hours in a position for real damage to occur, unless it’s a particularly strenuous one. Still, I made a note to try out a different position next time.

“That’s normal.” I said, “Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s ok.” she said quickly, looking up into my eyes, “I trust you.”

I stroked her hair gently, and she rested her head on my chest again. She hadn’t stopped smiling since I untied her. As the feeling returned to her arms she gripped me tighter, and sighed again. She didn’t relax like she normally did. I could still feel the tension in her body.

“Mia -” I said, stroking her hair.

“Not yet.” she interrupted.

I was going to ask if there was something bothering her, but it looked like she was about to tell me herself.

“Don’t make me leave yet, please.” she said, “Just let me stay here, just for a while.”

“Mia…” I said again, uncertainly.

“Please. Please don’t send me away yet. Please just…hold me.” she begged.

She held me tighter, and I could hear the need in her voice.

I sighed. She was serious about this. Well, would it be the worst thing in the world if we just lay together for a while?

“Ok.” I said gently, “It’s Ok. You can stay for a while.”

“Thank you.” she murmured quickly.

She tilted her head and kissed my neck a few times with light pecks.

This was when she was at her most honest, I thought. After I’d stripped away everything else, her will, her dignity, everything that she presented to the rest of the world; after she’d submitted to me entirely, and lost herself in it. She was left so raw, and so vulnerable. The way she clung to me, still shaking, just begging for this warmth, no trace of shame at displaying such a desperate desire. It was like the extreme embodiment of “cuddling afterwards”. It was her consuming need to just feel some sort of contact, physical and emotional .My chest swelled with a new kind of understanding of her.

“Thank you.” she said again.

I held her tighter, and kissed her head. Then I felt her relax. Her whole body lost tension, and within a minute I could feel her breathing growing deeper and slower. After a few minutes more, she fell asleep in my arms.

I sighed again. I slowly reached out to the digital clock on my bedside table. I set my alarm for an hour and a half away, because I remembered reading that ninety minutes is the best length of time for a long nap. I ran my fingers idly through her hair a few more times before I closed my eyes.

But I couldn’t sleep. I kept opening my eyes to look down at her, and kept focusing on the pressure of her body on mine. There was something excitingly intimate about her actually sleeping with me. I rolled my eyes when I thought this, wondering again how things could be so backwards. Wasn’t the intimacy supposed to come first in a relationship, and not after the sex?

She shifted her in her sleep every now again to stay comfortable, but she always seemed to perfectly fit with me, our legs intertwining, or her weight being pushed perfectly on my hips. I was so comfortable, but maybe I didn’t want to sleep. I liked holding her like this. I liked the gentle sighs she sometimes made that caught her voice and ended in a soft moan. I ended up just lying there, barely a thought in my head, until I noticed the alarm was about to go. Has it really been that long?

I reached over and turned the alarm off before it rang.

“Mia.” I said gently.

She didn’t react.

“Mia.” I said louder, stroking her head.

I felt her begin the slow climb to consciousness, her body tensing and twitching as she regained control. She suddenly looked up at me. She sat up quickly and rubbed her eyes.

“Did I fall asleep?” she asked.

I smiled at the obvious question.

“Yeah. You were out for more than an hour.” I said.

“Sorry.” she said sheepishly. “I just wanted to stay…I didn’t-“

“It’s Ok.” I said, interrupting her.

She nodded, unsure of herself.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” she said softly.

She seemed so vulnerable. I didn’t know how to treat her when she was like this. I wanted to hold her, to feel her warmth against me. I also kind of wanted to see her cry again.

She was waiting for something. Waiting for me to tell her to leave, or just to tell her to do something.

“Come here.” I said.

She smiled and leaned forward again, sliding between my arms and resting her head on my shoulder.

“I really liked having lunch with you.” she whispered.

Again with this.

“It was just lunch with your friends.” I said./