"No." I whispered fervently. "I will not help you force yourself on me."
"You can not force the willing, Love and I promise you, before I'm done, you will be more than willing, if you aren't already. However, I think, before I let you cover me. I will have you use that luscious mouth of yours to make sure I am at full form. I wouldn't want to disappoint you."
I felt him lean in again, closer to my face. His lips brushed my cheek and made their way to my ear. "Kneel" he whispered. He nibbled his way down my neck. I felt the penis in my hand increasing with each nip. As he made it down to the curve of my neck, where my pulse was doing the mambo, he whispered with a bit more force. "Kneel" I tried to toss my head to tell him, "No". He grabbed my hair again, pulled it to the side, and bit down onto my neck with enough force to draw a gasp from my mouth. As he did so, he pushed downward, forcing me to my knees.
"I tried to give you the opportunity to do it yourself. I suppose you must enjoy a bit of pain with your pleasure."
Tears of anger filled my eyes. How dare he? Did he think I was going to give in?
I felt something soft brush my lips. "Open." He said. "Lick your lips. Then open your mouth." I shook my head, but he still had his hand buried in my hair. "Do not be difficult. Do as I say. As long as you cooperate with me, you will feel no pain. Unless that truly is your pleasure," he chuckled.
"Bastard!"
"Yes, well, legitimacy aside, you will do what I say. Now, moisten your lips and open your mouth. Oh, and just in case you are thinking about it...do watch the teeth. I would hate to see you picking them up off the floor."
Knowing there was nothing else to do, I licked my lips and opened my mouth a little. As I felt the head ease through my lips, I tasted the salt of his precum. Almost, as if by reflex, my tongue flicked out at it. I heard him moan. I didn't want him to enjoy this so I tried to keep still. Refusing to grant him the pleasure movement would provide, I held my mouth open. My slight show of resistance did not last long. The hand at the back of my head began to apply pressure. He forced my head down onto his cock. With his right hand he reached down and put his hand upon my chin, using his thumb and finger to press my cheeks in a bit.
"If you do not like this, I can let go. However, you will have to put forth a little more effort."
Seeing as I was starting to gag a little, I did what I could to nod. I guess he got the point because he let go of my chin and released some of the pressure on the back of my head. He never let go of my hair.
At least this was something I actually enjoyed. Maybe if I pretended he was someone else, this wouldn't be so bad. I was still really hot so it wouldn't take much effort.
I brought my right hand up to grasp his dick, running my thumb along the rim of the head while scraping the underside of his balls with the nails of my fingers. Precum oozed down onto my thumb. I slid my thumb up and down, rubbing the slickness along the underside of his cock. I thought I heard him grunt as the pressure on the back of my head slightly increased. Realizing what he meant, I lowered my head. I kept my thumb where it was; rubbing it back and forth, as my mouth rose and fell. I took him out of my mouth and ran my tongue over his balls while I continued to stroke him. I sucked my way up his shaft, popping him back into my mouth. I flicked my tongue back and forth across the bottom of his rod, while bobbing my head up and down. Soon he became too large to just play with. He began to press deeper into my throat. I released my grip on his penis and placed both hands on either side of his hips. Digging my nails into them, I pulled him forward shoving his cock deep into my throat, taking as much of him as I could. He fucked my throat deeper and deeper with each stroke, using my hair to pull me back and forth. Fingertips dug into my scalp. I suddenly felt myself being pulled up. His cock pulled out of my mouth, making a resounding "Pop" as it did so.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do anything wrong!" I wailed.
"Why would you think you had done anything wrong? You did just what I asked."
"But, you stopped me. I thought you wanted me to do those things."
"Yes, that is what I wanted. Then. What I want now is to give him a bit of a rest while I learn my way around your delectable curves."
While I understood what he meant, I wasn't quite sure how he planned to go about it. Then I felt myself being pressed back down onto the lounge chair. Seconds later, his lips were on mine. His tongue worked it's way into my mouth, warring with my own. The only thing I could think of was 'Bad guys should not taste so good.'.
His hands were everywhere, sliding in the oil. Fingers molded my breasts and kneaded my nipples. My back arched. He made his way down to my waist, pressing fingers into my back as his thumbs played with the soft sensitive skin of my side. He continued to follow the line of my body, easing his way down to my thighs, parting them without too much effort. I feared what was to come, but I could hardly contain the anticipation. He promised not to hurt me, but would he know what caused me pain? Did he know how much was too much? Could I trust his promise? All thoughts rushed out of my head when he grazed my pussy with his whiskers.
"Your scent makes me want to bury my face in it."
He parted my labia with his fingers and blew cool breath onto my feverish snatch. He teased my opening with his thumbs. Then ran them up the inside of my lips to my clit, pressing it between them. My back bowed off the lounge. He shoved me back down with his hand.
"No, No. I'm not done yet. I have many more things I want to try before we're done. Do try to stay still." His hand slid back down leaving trails in the oil on my abdomen. "You know, I think we should get some of this oil off of you. I want to taste you, not the oil."
He stood up and pulled me along with him. We headed over to the shower. Even though I knew it was coming, feeling the cool water on me was a bit of a shock. He began soaping me everywhere; paying special attention to my most sensitive places. Fingers delved into crevices with the oil and soap easing their way. Why did he have to tease me so much? Couldn't he just get it over with? He rinsed and dried me before bringing me back to the lounge.
"Now if you will, please bend over and place your hands onto the lounge chair. I will of course, assist you."
Bending as he said, I scrambled a little to find my bearings. Once I had found the lounge, I felt him lifting my hips and spreading my legs. His hands grazed over my ass cheeks, coming to rest on their rounded bottoms. He then spread them high and wide, letting it fall back into place. Over and over again he did this. My cheeks bounced against each other repeatedly; teasing me more each time. Then, I felt it, lightly at first. His hot breath gave me a little warning of what was to come. The faintest brush from the tip of his tongue here and there. I could feel myself dripping onto his tongue I was so aroused. I jerked hard as his tongue glanced across my clit. It only lasted a slight second, but it was enough to make me squirm. I tried to force myself back onto his face but he moved away too soon. I moaned in frustration. Flick. Again he moved in, this time slightly penetrating me. Finally I felt the rasp of his tongue lapping away the wetness from the sides. Like a cat cleaning itself. Except the more he cleaned, the wetter I got. Without warning, he put his whole face in my ass. He tongued my asshole, squeezing my cheeks together against his face. This time, I managed to grind myself against him. The little bit of stubble on his chin scraped at my pussy. I dug in harder. Just as I could feel the first signs of a pending orgasm, he tore himself away. I wanted to cry. I didn't know how much of this I could take. His tongue slid back into the folds of my slit. Not penetrating, but slipping along the smooth path to my clit. Then he wiggled his tongue.
I dropped to my knees unable to stand anymore. Tilting my head back, he took advantage of the opportunity to rub his cock in my face. I stuck out my tongue, laving at the bottom as he stroked back and forth. He held it in his hands and smacked it lightly against my lips. Each time, I caught it, sucking a little harder each time. Precum dribbled onto my lips. I tongued the head, getting all of it that I could. Man I wanted this thing inside of me. Why coul
dn't he just fuck me? I know he was ready to blow.
Almost as if he heard me, he pulled me to my feet and bent me back over. I heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper. Where he managed to find that, I've no clue.
It touched me. Tentatively at first. The tip barely pierced my entrance. I could feel my inner muscles flexing, trying to draw it in further. He pulled back. Then prodded me with the tip again. Again and again I was subjected to this tiny bit. Then he let the head slide fully in, but nothing more. I clenched my muscles, trying to keep him in, but he pulled out again. Twice more, I got just the head. Then, he stopped....
Slam. He thrust himself deep inside of me; grinding his hips into me. Fingers dug into my hip bones, pulling me back against him. Harder and harder, he slammed into me. Filling me, grinding me, then pulling out completely only to do it again. My mind swam. I grasped at the lounge chair, bracing myself against it. Slap! His hand smacked against my ass. He pulled my cheeks apart, spreading them almost painfully wide. I felt his thumb rub over my asshole, pressing in each time his cock plunged into me.
Finally! This was what I needed. This was what I wanted earlier.
I ground my pussy into him with each thrust. His balls slapped against my clit. Forcing me closer and closer. I could hear his breathing quicken.
He pulled out, turned me around, and picked me up. Slamming me back onto his cock. He bounced me up and down his shaft, letting my tits slap him in the face. He caught a nipple in his teeth and bit down as he shoved my hips into his. Backing us up against the wall, he pounded my pussy. Over and over, harder, deeper. Each time he thrust, he pulled on my nipple.
I felt his dick swell and knew he was about to erupt. I felt myself slipping off into my own. Thrust, pull, slam. It built to an agonizing crescendo. My muscles began to milk him, sucking on him, coaxing him closer. Tears streamed down my face. So close. My legs were shaking. One more thrust. Harder. Please! My back slammed against the wall. I felt the heat of his cum through the condom. My head fell back. Stars lit up my eyes. I screamed and held on, digging my nails into his back. He kept hammering away. I came crashing down only to lift back up again. He wouldn't stop. Wave after wave hit me. I gasped for air; unable to catch my breath.
"Please. No more," I begged.
Slam.
"Are you sure?" he said as I twitched beneath him. " I want to make sure you are fully satisfied."
Slam
"Yes. Please. No more." I pleaded. I didn't think I had it in me to do or say more than that. I just wanted to stop. I needed to rest.
I felt us moving. To where, I had no clue. Then I felt myself being laid back on the lounge. I began to panic. Couldn't he stop? He finally disentangled himself from me. Leaving me there, weak and exposed on my back. I reached for him, trying to find where he had gone. I grasped at air. Then I felt his lips on my forehead.
"Thanks for the fun Love. I knew you'd be worth it."
I heard his footsteps as they echoed across the deck and into the house. I snatched off the blindfold hoping to get a glance of him. I stood on trembling legs and tried to follow. By the time I reached the door to the house, he had made it to the front door. I saw him turn to me, but his face was in the shadows.
"Unless you want an encore, I'd advise you to lock your door from now on. Especially if you intend on teasing people in traffic," he ordered.
I gasped in horror as I realized just who he was. I couldn't believe my little escapade from earlier had caused this. I made my way to the front door as quickly as my Jello legs could get me there. Dust from his car was still hanging in the air. Neither he nor his car were anywhere around. I hurried to lock my door as he had said. Then I thought about it. Would an encore be so bad?
I let go of the knob, turned around and headed for the shower. I was looking forward to getting stuck in traffic again.
The End.
Wicked Once
"Dammit!" I exclaimed. "You weren't always this frigid, so don't treat me like I'm an idiot!"
Calling Sheila "frigid" was a mistake I had made once before. She hates being called that, but hey, the truth hurts. I was angry, so I had blurted it out.
The argument started when our two kids had been invited to sleep over at their cousins' house. I immediately had thoughts of going out with her for the evening with her wearing next to nothing. On a couple of rare occasions previously, Sheila had gone out with me braless, wearing something somewhat sheer, so that if someone were paying attention, they could see her nipples. This made me very happy. On one of these occasions, she had become so excited, when we left the bar and got back to our car, she removed all of her clothes and rode naked all the way home as I fingered her. But that was several years ago, and since then she has shut everything down. Love making is rare. Dressing sexy is out of the question.
So when I had suggested that she dress up again for me this weekend, she snapped at me about how much she hates when I tell her what to wear. She ranted about how she doesn't like to be seen in public in something daring, and that I must have a problem if I like that sort of thing.
I started calmly by trying to explain how much I admire her body. For being 47 years old, she looks great with a 36C chest and narrow waist with shapely hips. I then built momentum by naming the times she had dressed up for me previously, and how much fun she obviously had. I capped it off with the line about being frigid and stomped out of the room.
She didn't follow me. I was not surprised, and I fully expected to not hear her voice for a full week. Our Saturday with no kids would be spent in her parent's basement (where we lived temporarily until our new home was ready) in silence.
A short time later, she approached me and gently apologized and explained how she had been so stressed due to opening her own law firm. She said if I was willing to take her shopping, we could pick out some clothes for Saturday.
I was surprised at her coming to me that way. She's not the apologetic type. Therefore, I was dubious of how sincere she was. But I agreed to take her shopping on my day off, which is Wednesday. When Wednesday came, we went to the mall and she asked me what I wanted her to wear. I told her I had pictured her in a short skirt with thigh high stockings, and a shirt that she already owns. The shirt is a stretchy, thin white pull-over that if worn braless would be spectacular. So we shopped and settled on a plaid, pleated skirt that came down to a couple of inches above her knees. We then found a pair of textured thigh-highs at Victoria's Secret. Add some heels and WOW!
It seemed like an eternity for Saturday to arrive. The kids were picked up, and when the in-laws left for Saturday Mass, we started dressing. I put on a pair of slacks and a silk shirt with my black Italian loafers. Sheila asked me what she should wear. I immediately figured she had scrapped the idea of the short skirt. She sensed my confusion and clarified that I had never told her which shirt I had in mind to go with the skirt. I pulled the shirt off the rack and handed it to her. "Which bra?" she asked. When I said "None", she hesitated, then wordlessly walked into the bathroom to dress. When she reemerged, I was struck breathless. She had on exactly what I asked. Her nipples were perfectly visible through the tight, stretchy shirt, and her muscular legs looked awesome in the thigh high stockings sticking out under the skirt. She said she hadn't put on underwear yet, and asked what I wanted her to wear, and added firmly that she would be wearing underwear no matter what I wanted. I chose not to argue, and picked out a pair of silver and black sparkly panties. When she hiked up her skirt to put them on, I could see she had trimmed her pubic hair down to a tiny patch.
She looked worried and said she wasn't comfortable with the shirt she was wearing because of how clearly visible her nipples were, so I suggested she wear her black zipper cardigan, so she could open it if she felt comfortable later on.
We went to a restaurant for dinner, and as we waited for a table, we sat at the bar. When she climbed up on the stool, her skirt rode up so I could see the tops of her stockings. She quickly adjusted herself as I ordered a couple glasses of
wine, and two shots of the best tequila they had. Sheila complained that she didn't like the taste of tequila, but I assured her that this was good stuff, therefore not bitter. She took a sip off the top of the glass, and smiled at the taste. She downed the shot and chased it with her wine.
After we were seated at our table, Sheila kept fretting over how short her skirt was. I ordered more wine and another shot of tequila. This time, Sheila drank the shot without questioning. We ate dinner and shared a bottle of wine. By the time we were done, she had stopped reaching down to readjust her skirt, and had unzipped her cardigan. Now I could see her nipples peeking around the sweater as we talked. She suggested another tequila shot for dessert, so I didn't argue. By the time we left the restaurant, Sheila was pretty numb and wobbly on her high heels.
We then went to our favorite little martini bar. We found a table near the door, and Sheila sat with her back to the door, facing the rest of the bar. She took off her coat, then removed her cardigan. Her beautiful, full breasts and erect nipples were now very visible through the tight stretchy white top. The bar was somewhat dimly lit, so her tits weren't too flashy. The tables were bar height, so the stools were rather tall. Sheila climbed up on her stool, and didn't reach down to adjust herself. I walked to the bar to order our drinks, and when I looked back, could see up Sheila's skirt between her slightly parted knees, where her sparkly panties were winking in the softly flashing bar lights. I sprung an immediate hard-on, and when I turned back to the bar, I could see a young man, perhaps ten years younger than us who had also noticed Sheila's show. I returned with our drinks and sat across from Sheila, but to the side so as not to obstruct the young man's view of my wife's crotch. We sipped our drinks, and after a while I leaned forward and told her what I had observed. I told her how I could see her panties, and I pointed out the young man who had taken notice. She said she too, had noticed the man staring, and had done nothing to dissuade him. I applauded her for her being so accommodating.
Climax Taboo Erotic Collection Page 26
