We had our own version of date night on Friday, when my mom takes the little one into her room and watches stuff with him and they crash out sometime in the wee hours. It's supposed to be a weekly thing, when she gets her special time with him and the two of us get time to watch "grown-up" movies (anything rated R or not kid-friendly) and hopefully run off to bed early, but often enough they wind up wandering back out and it turns into a standard evening. This time it went like it was supposed to, and we watched a lovely sad film that wasn't quite what we thought it would be but was very good nonetheless, and we slinked off to our bed early. I had bathed prior to watching the movie, so I was all squeaky clean.
He held me in his arms and we talked for nearly an hour, about life, our past, what memories we each have surrounding various events, about time and the years we've been together and what it must be like to grow even older together. It grew later, and he wound up his end of the conversation with "Mmm, we should make the most of the evening we have now."
"Lover, the evening's gone," I responded against his lips, as he kissed me, glancing at the clock over his shoulder. It was 10:15. "There's not even two hours left in the day! It's definitely night," I continued talking into his mouth between little kisses.
"You can do a lot in two hours," he said meaningfully.
I sucked on his lip a little. "Mmm, not enough."
He loomed over me, kissing me hard and then looking at me. "It's never enough for you, girl. It doesn't mean anything when you say that. You're an insatiable little fuck toy, aren't you?" I blushed and nodded, burying my face in his shoulder, a little whimper working its way out of my throat. He put his hand on the back of my head and held me. "But 'not enough' is a hell of a lot better than 'nothing at all,' isn't it, girl?" I nodded against him again.
"It may have taken me a while, but I know how my girl works now," he told me, pushing the thin fabric of my nightshirt up high on my chest and slapping my nipple several times, making me gasp. He reached over my head, behind the bed, coming back up with the riding crop.
He kissed me hard, claiming my mouth as his. "I didn't want to hurt you then, but you like it when I hurt you, don't you? You like it when I take you, make you mine." He started slapping the end of the crop all over my breast with little taps, barely hurting, making me moan with pleasure. Occasionally he'd land one right on my nipple and I'd squeal, kicking, arching a little.
"Uh huh," I moaned, my ability to verbalize sinking into a different part of my brain, far away from anything I was experiencing. Just sensation, his fingers rubbing me, his mouth hot and insistent against mine, and the gentle bite of the crop, slapping over the tender skin of my breast.
He put the crop down then, pulled me close to him, my leg over his hip, and spanked my ass hard, each strike loud and stinging, making me squirm against him, still kissing me like there was no tomorrow. I felt his cock grow rigid against the inside of my thigh as he spanked me.
"So fucking hot," he said, switching his target to my inner forearm, slapping it hard as well. "You gave yourself to me, didn't you, my girl? Do you know how much it turns me on that you did that? I can do anything I want with you." He alternated blows between my ass and my arm, then pushed me over and went after my nipples again. I moaned constantly, agreeing with everything he said with a grunt.
He pinned my upper body with his, taking my breasts in both his hands, licking, sucking, and biting at my nipples. "I like doing things to your breasts," he whispered between kisses and bites, "right here at your face, so I can look at your face while I do this," he said, biting my nipple, making me cry out. My eyes were closed, but knowing he was looking at me was powerful. It was also a tinge humiliating, because my face is an open book and I was spending a lot of time with my mouth open, moaning, tossing my head.
He teased me. Flashes are all I can remember. Begging, him rubbing his cock against me, making me want it.
"Please fuck me with your cock."
"Oh, I know you do," he said smoothly.
He spread the sheet over me and then climbed on me, keeping my skin from touching his. I whined. Our sheet is soft bamboo, but it is not his warm skin. He slipped his fingers under the sheet, gliding them up my leg, then gently dragging them against the wet folds of my pussy. Gentle, light strokes of his fingertips. "Oooh, so wet you are, my fuck hole. You want me badly, don't you?" I squeal every time he calls me that, the words curl fingers around my belly and squeeze.
"I'll let you feel it," he said, climbing on top of me. The sheet was no longer between us.
He pressed just the head of his cock inside me, teasing, not letting it go any deeper. I groaned, arching my body up to his, trying desperately to take more.
"Oh, no, my sweet slut, I'm not going to fuck you yet," he murmured, pulling away from me, moving to lie at my side.
"I'll let you touch my cock with your hand now," he said, his lips capturing mine as I gasped into his mouth, his fingers moving back to delicately stroke my pussy.
I moaned as my fingers moved to wrap around his shaft, the heat of his arousal sinking in to the skin of my fingers and palm. I stroked him, and he teased me. "Such a good girl," he murmured, moaning himself as I touched him.
"Can I touch it with my breasts?" I begged after a while. He'd already denied my mouth.
"Hmm.. okay. You can do that," he relented, and I moved to surround his hardness with the soft flesh of my breasts, pressing them around him. He put his hands on my back and pressed me into him. We both groaned.
"I'll let you taste it now," he told me, and I quickly moved to take him in my mouth, moaning with the sensation of his cock slipping past my lips.
"Just a taste, slut," he whispered, pulling me back as I tried to devour him. I whimpered, resigning myself to just sucking the smooth head, swirling my tongue around it. "Just.... a... taste, I said," he growled, tugging up hard on my hair, pulling my head away from his cock, leaving my mouth a round 'O' of need.
"I'll let you," he said, pausing, making me shiver with anticipation, "take off your shirt," he finished. I whimpered and did as I was told, turning my back to him. I'd forgotten it was even still on.
"And I'll let you feel my cock like this," he said, pressing it against my back. I wriggled against him, pressing back as hard as I could, moaning and trembling as his hands touched my shoulders, as his lips found their way to the back of my neck and dropped damp kisses there. "Ooh, what do you think you're doing?" he asked, feeling me squirm against him.
"Just feeling you," I whispered. Perhaps trying to coax him inside me.
"I think it's time for you to suck my cock now," he said, pulling me back to face him. His fingers returned to their slow, light strokes across my clit and all the soft wet parts of my pussy. He wouldn't put anything inside me. I moaned deeply as I bent over and took him in my mouth, sucking hard with all the desire to have him inside of me I'd had since he'd started this long, slow tease.
He let me suck for a long time, my hips undulating to the delicate strokes of his finger, his words penetrating the fog of my brain enough to make me whimper around his cock with regularity. God, how I wanted him.
"Time for your pussy, I think," he said, his finger still working its magic on me. "So fucking wet, slut," he whispered, tracing his fingertip around my opening. I surged upward but he wouldn't penetrate me with it. I groaned with want even as I kept sucking. "Oh, but your mouth just won't stop, will it?" he asked softly, pulling my head away from his cock. "Turn over," he said, and I did, my whole body wracked with shudders. "I think I'll put you up on the ramp and fuck you. Think you can handle that?"
"I'll do anything you want," I panted, writhing even though he was just touching my shoulders. My entire body is an erogenous zone for him. "Please fuck me."
"Mmm, that's right, you will. I'll fuck you," he whispered, his cock pressing into my slippery hole, making me tremble with need. I groaned loudly, shaking, as the hot head of his cock nudged its way into my opening, and he held still. I writhed back against him. "I'm not going to fuck you like this, though," he said.
I wriggled, pressing back against him, groaning. "Please," I whispered.
"Mmm, my fuckhole wants more cock?" His hand gripped the back of my neck and part of my shoulder, his other hand holding tightly to my hip.
"Please," I moaned again.
"Mmm. Okay. I'm going to shove it in there. You ready?" he asked, moving his hips slightly, just enough that I could feel his cock slip the tiniest bit into and out of me.
"Uh-huh," I gasped out, trying to move back onto him, but his grip on my body stopping me. He held me still there as he pressed inside me in tiny, tiny thrusts. I could feel my inner walls parting as he slowly invaded me, and I moaned loudly when he was finally buried in me.
I squeezed my muscles around him and he moaned too. "Goooood fuckhole," he whispered. I squealed. "That's right," he said, knowing why I'd squealed, pressing into me harder, "my fuckhole."
He pulled away from me, came to stand next to the bed. I raised up on my hands and knees and obediently climbed onto the Liberator ramp when he put it there, with the wedge for resting my hands on, to give me more height.
He took hold of my hips and slowly entered me from behind. I sighed long and deep as he entered me.
"Mmm, this is a good way to fuck you. I can touch you wherever I want with both my hands." His hands wandered all over my body and I purred. One of his hands slowly came to rest on my head, stroking my head gently. I began to whimper with anticipation.
"Do you want me to pull your hair?"
"Oh, fuck, yes, please pull my hair," I panted.
"I'll pull your hair, slut," he whispered, tightening his grip and pulling my hair hard, lifting my entire upper body back toward him. His other hand joined that one on my head and I moaned softly as he gripped my hair with that hand too, both of his hands tugging my head up and back toward him in unison as he thrust into my body.
Time passed like that, his hands regularly coming back to pull my head back toward him, spending the intervals wandering over my body, resting on my throat, squeezing gently, tugging on my nipples. My body trembled from the exertion of holding the position.
"I think it's time to fuck your ass now," he said.
"Oh, yes, yes," I said softly, a sigh of longing escaping me even as I rotated my hips around his invading shaft.
"Are you sure that's what you want? This pussy likes being fucked an awful lot," he said, moving inside me with hard, slow strokes.
I moaned loudly, relishing the feel of him plundering me. "I want you to do whatever you want with me, fuck me wherever you want," I gasped out between my moans.
"Silly me," he said, tugging hard on my hair, "asking a fuck toy what she wants. Go get me the lube, then. Think you can do that?" He kept slowly sliding his cock in my slippery pussy.
"Uhhhn. Yes sir. Not while you're fucking me though."
"I'll stop fucking you," he said softly, tugging up on my head, thrusting into me slower, slower, stopping eventually, then pulling away from me, many minutes later as I lay there and moaned, knowing each stroke might be the last.
I crawled forward to get the lube, and then passed it back to him, reversing my course, resuming my position. The first cool slippery touch of lube on my ass made me gasp, and I squirmed as his finger worked its way into me. "You like that, fuckhole?" he asked. I moaned softly in response, my entire body aware, of his finger gently working into my ass, of my pussy seeping wetness, of my skin rubbing against the velvety surface of the ramp as I writhed.
As he pressed his cock against my tiny opening, the burning, all-encompassing pain began. "Oh, fuck, fuck, please," I begged incoherently, my body pushing forward to escape the assault. He kept pressing forward into me, breaking into my resisting body. I didn't want to resist, but his onslaught wasn't giving me time to relax into it, and it was hurting.
"Fuck, please. Master, please go a little slower," I managed, a little scream escaping me.
"Oh, but I don't want to," he whispered harshly, his hips making small thrusts now anyway, his actions belying his words. "I just want to shove myself in there."
I shuddered with his words as he pulled me back onto him, holding still for a moment until my breathless panicked little cries became soft moans of pleasure, and my body stopped pulling away and started pressing back into him. "Is my fuck toy ready to be fucked now?" he asked.
"Yes sir," I whispered.
His slow thrusts felt divine and I began to rock to meet him. He continued pulling up on my hair, and his hand slipped down to pinch a nipple as it hung beneath me. He pulled down on it and I gasped with the pain. "Oh, fuck, it hurts, it hurts," I begged.
"I know, but I'm gonna keep doing it," he said, making me squeal as his other hand lifted my head back toward him, increasing the pressure on my nipple. I squealed constantly.
I don't remember how he came or when, just his moans, his hands gripping me, and the feeling of his cock slowly softening. He pulled me even more upright and pushed into me while he was still hard, holding my body against his. "Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, yes," I groaned. It felt so fantastic, being held close like that while he shoved into my most intimate opening.
"I'm sorry your fuck toy's asshole resisted you," I panted, my body squirming as his fingers slowly slid in and out of me.
"Is that what that was?" he asked curiously, his fingers continuing their slow pace inside me. He bit into my nipple.
"Mmmmhmm.." I twisted and arched my chest up to meet him.
"Mmm.. Well, I took it anyway. Beause it's my asshole, and I'll fuck it if I want to."
"Yes sir," I squealed, his words exciting me, driving me so close to orgasm. His fingers carried me the rest of the way and I clung to him as my feet kicked, panting, screaming, and he kept talking, driving me crazy.
"My fuck-wife," he whispered as he pulled me into my arms.
"I like that," I purred, panting against his chest, exhausted. "Love you."
He held me close to him, his hand stroking my hair. "Love you too, my girl."
Sleep claimed us very shortly thereafter.