by Gina Kincade
“As you wish. I may or may not ask you about something before I begin. I will move you, how I want you, or you will not move. You may halt an action by calling red, though I do hope you will entertain yellow first. Are you okay is a color question the same as what color are you. Do you understand?”
She did. She was a little overwhelmed, but she did understand.
“Yes.”
“Good girl. What color are you?”
Without thinking Maggie started with “I...” which he cut off quickly with “No. What color are you?”
Maggie was choking. She knew it. She was completely torn between green and yellow and couldn’t land cleanly in either shade. Instead, she choked out, “Peuse.”
“Oh. My. God woman! Peuse?”
As he laughed she relaxed.
“Yes.” She smiled sheepishly.
He shook his head as the laughter died off.
“Let’s see what we can do about that.”
A third layer of goose bumps climbed on top of the first two as he stepped closer. He kneeled to set her stance a faction wider and ran his hands up her thighs as he rose. He palmed the soft tissue above her waistband then pushed his hands up her torso with the palms still flat against her skin, detouring around the outside of her breasts.
Reaching up, he snared the shoulder straps of her bra, dragging them down to hang off her upper arms. He used his fingertips to liberate the cups, rolling the fabric over itself to the nipples before turning them completely inside out and upside down beneath her now fully exposed breasts. He drew the band down to her waist leaving her arms tangled in the straps. She didn’t move. She wasn’t completely certain she should breathe.
He looked her squarely in the eye as he got closer still.
“Are you okay?”
Maggie could only get out a breathy, “Yes.”
He nodded but didn’t speak again, instead leaning in to her throat, dragging soft grazes against her skin leaving a warm trail in his wake with his lips. His fingers were walking a path up from her abdomen, around and across her breasts in different directions. His mouth and hands collided in a fire storm over her chest as he encircled a breast with his hand and sucked it deeply into his mouth.
He laved and sucked, massaged and bit at her, changing breasts after several moments. His free hand drifted down on the next exchange as he undid her trousers, zipper and all with one hand. The fabric dropped to the floor, pooling at her ankles, leaving her in her panties and the band of her bra, otherwise, completely exposed.
In that moment, Maggie was thankful that her mother had insisted on ‘nice’ under things, not just practical. She would have been mortified to be standing in front of this man in granny panties and a boulder holder. The thought didn’t last long as Thorne’s hands were again on the move.
Still laving at her breast, his fingers were tracing the lace band of her panties, just below the band of her bra. He wasn’t removing them, yet. He was only tracing the outline around her waist. It was driving her crazy. She fought not to tremble with the awareness of his fingers across her skin.
He raked his nails across her ass over the fabric, moving to lick between her breasts, up her throat and chin headed for her mouth. He kissed her deeply several times as his hands pulled at the globes of her ass. He paused, mumbling against her lips, “What color are you now Margaret?”
She didn’t have to think this time.
“Green.”
“That’s my girl” came out on a growl before he seized her mouth in a demanding kiss. One hand moved down beneath the fabric of her panties grabbing her ass firmly while the other traveled up her back holding her in place between her shoulder blades first, then at the back of her head.
He kissed her like that for a long time, leaving her breathless when he shifted. Her heart was pounding out an erratic beat as he lowered himself before her. He moved both hands up under the fabric on the outside of her thighs, fingers meeting over the cleft of her ass as he tongued the line of the lace across her belly.
That tongue, that magic tongue, then began inching the fabric down bit by bit. He tugged the back by hand but only used his mouth on the front. When he had it scrunched across her hips just above the top of her inseam he stopped. He wore a different look as she gazed down to see what had changed.
“Color?”
Maggie wanted to take his face in her hands. She wanted to say more than a single word. His one word question was more demand than question and required a response. She gave it.
“Green.”
Her panties joined her trousers nearly before she reached the ‘een’. He lifted one foot then the other to liberate the fabric, setting it aside carefully. Repositioning her at the side rail of the bed, he eased her down to sit, then lie back, before putting her hips to hang off the mattress. She had no choice but to keep her arms at her sides, still caught in the straps of her bra. He adjusted her feet, edging her knees open as he sank between them.
Unable to see him, she traded between watching the fan, a spot on the ceiling, and the inside of her eyelids as his hands circled her ankles and moved up her calves. Her eyes flew wide when she felt his tongue take over at her knees, working up the inside as his palms moved along the outsides.
He nuzzled the short hair he found as he dragged his finger nails down the backs of her thighs. His hands re-emerged to trace the outline of her down and back up again. He paused after reaching up as he pulled the hood back and blew a soft breath across the bundle of exposed nerves. Maggie jumped.
“What color are you Margaret?”
Maggie knew she was covered in goose bumps. She has a pretty good idea too of where this was going but no first-hand experience. Summoning more courage than she felt, she went for it.
“Green.”
His tongue was cold and wet, warm and firm all at the same time as he made contact. As it crossed the knot of her clit she nearly jumped again, but stayed reasonably still. His arm moved to lie across her belly and hold the hood back at her movement. Slowly and deliberately, he moved around and across the top of her sex with his tongue between blowing it dry. It was torture.
A finger snaked out and began rubbing against the small nub from the hand that held it exposed. His tongue licked and his mouth sucked everywhere else. Bit by bit he moved lower until with his free hand pulling it open, his tongue disappeared inside her sex. He danced his tongue against the walls as his lips sealed around the opening and sucked. He never let go of the tender flesh even as he bit and thrust his tongue deeper.
The rhythm of his finger on her clit and his thrusting tongue were counter one another, then tandem. She could no sooner get used to the sensation before he’d change it. Somewhere in her gut a spring was coiling in on itself getting tighter. Just when she thought it would pop he’d change again and it would start all over. For so little experience to her credit, she had never wanted to fuck so badly in all her life.
Over and over he’d take her to the edge and pull her back. It was exquisite hell. The man should be illegal.
Withdrawing from her core, he licked his way up to the cleft sucking the clit into his mouth. He thumped his tongue against it, flickng it intermittently. Maggie thought she was going to blow for sure when she felt his finger slide up her soaking wet folds and deep inside joined by another finger a mere breath later. He didn’t remove his mouth but paused to lick and suck for a moment as he began a pressure-filled pulling rub against the top wall from inside with his fingers.
Maggie didn’t think the knot in her belly could take much more, or get any tighter, but as he continued to curl his fingers it did. Her breath came out in hitching bursts and her hips started to move of their own volition. She couldn’t help it. Thorne clamped his arm down harder across her waist and began sucking, biting and flicking his tongue against her clit in the same rhythm he curled and uncurled his fingers inside her.
Sounds she had never made before came from her lips in single syllables. They got higher in pitch and mor
e frequent with every exhale until there were only long tones like the wail of a young babe between quick intakes of air. Thorne didn’t miss a beat through them all continuing long after they subsided.
It was a temporary lull. With no build up or warning, she was wailing again. This time too he rode out the cries firmly latched onto her clit. Even as her whole body shuddered he refused to let go. Maggie felt like she was in a million pieces across the bed.
When she finally quieted for a moment, he slid his fingers in and out several times, licked around the bundle of nerves that were beating a rhythm of their own, and let go long enough to suck his fingers. Foolishly, Maggie expected to hear ‘what color are you?’ She didn’t. Thorne laved up the length of her from center to top before sucking the clit back into his mouth and sliding two fingers deep. He slid the fingers in and out a half dozen times before finding the spot along the top wall again, curling just the fingertips against it in a slow roll.
He pulled on the clit with his mouth; sucking it back in just before it popped completely free. He sealed his lips tight and began a furious sucking as the roll of his fingertips up’d tempo to match. Maggie, unable to liberate her arms from the straps grabbed the edge of the mattress and held on for dear life.
Unable to buck her hips under his arm, she only managed to thrust against the length of his fingers. She shattered apart again on a down stroke with a long tone that she could hardly believe came from her mouth. Wave after wave wracked her body. He was killing her with his mouth. He didn’t stop until she was too spent to keep going.
He withdrew his fingers slowly, gently letting go of the pulsing knot he’d been sucking on. He was shifting his position, Maggie presumed to stand.
“Thorne, I...”
He stopped abruptly cutting her off.
“No. I’m not finished with you yet.”
Maggie’s mouth hung open and her eyes went wide in disbelief. She couldn’t see him. There was no doubt he was there.
“What color are you Margaret?”
Still stunned, she stammered. “Gr...green?”
She had wanted to say dead but it wasn’t an option. There wasn’t even a ‘good girl’ this time. Instead, she felt herself being gently turned over to lie on her stomach. A white hot sting followed a resounding crack across her ass. She jumped.
“Holy Hell what th...”
Another crack and another sting followed across the other cheek.
“Are you done now?”
Maggie hesitated, remembering the only four things she agreed to say. ‘Not even close’ wasn’t a choice as she wanted to turn and glare but reconsidered.
“Yes.”
“Good. What color are you now?”
She almost slipped into a monologue about what color her ass probably was now. What she was certain was a hand print where her ass cheeks burned stayed her tongue to speak. She didn’t think she’d get laughter again at peuse and opted for the best she could do.
“Yellow-green.”
“Okay.” Was the response from behind her as her hips were lifted and supported with pillows from the headboard.
She listened to fabric shifting as he kissed the two spots that still burned. He kneaded them a few moments later which felt pretty good. Not as good as before the swats, but pretty good. It was only for a few moments though as he moved back to working her sex with his mouth, from beneath this time. His hands moved forcefully up the backs of her thighs pulling her wide as they reached the top.
Maggie sucked in hard at the sensation as her backside was pulled apart left and right and Thorne’s tongue ran up the middle and back down again. He repeated it all; kneading her ass, raking up her thighs, spreading her wide and licking to the crest and back. Several repetitions later he held her apart and just licked. It was delicious.
Daring not to speak, Maggie let out a quiet breathy moan, hoping not to earn another strike with it. His hands didn’t move. There was a flicking, and the pressure of his tongue back and forth, up and down and round in tiny circles. Viscerally she knew where he was, and what he was doing. It was beyond her known ball game. She couldn’t believe how it felt. The thought ‘never in a million years’ started but stopped abruptly.
Maggie knew the instant he had worked the tip of his tongue in. The sensation was strange as he wiggled it back and forth moving it a little farther in with each couple of flicks. She did her best to relax and let him do what he was determined to do without clamping down. It was taking a lot of concentration to accomplish.
The more she was able to stay relaxed, the better if felt. He switched from wiggling to a straight in and out motion after he had gotten all the way in. Slowly he withdrew and slid back in again several times before she stopped counting and just allowed herself to feel. Maggie had no idea this even existed.
There was additional pressure after a while. She realized his hand had moved. The question of the pressure was answered and soon enough, it too wasn’t pressure at all. His other hand moved then too as it found her clit again from beneath, teasing it out from its hiding place.
His mouth on her asshole working with one hand and another on her clit, the ball in her belly started winding tight again. He removed his mouth and shifted again just when she thought she might be close. The hand turning her clit slid to open the access way to her core as he slid just the head of his cock inside with a groan.
“Color?” came out on a rough grunt.
“Green” came back on a moan.
He drove deep with one clean thrust. Unlike Billy Flannery, this didn’t hurt. She felt full, mighty full, but there was no searing pain or feeling of him being stuck as he pushed in slowly.
Once inside his hand never returned to her clit but moved to trade with the other that was holding her backside apart.
Freshly wet from her cunt, he slid two fingers into the tight ring of her ass before setting into a slow thrust in time with the rhythm of his hips. He slowed them both down as he stretched his fingers to go deeper, sliding them all the way in and nearly all the way out on each stroke. She could feel both bands of tissue flex as he passed them. Several long strokes later she felt them stretch even more, nearly orgasming from the sensation coupled with the slow ride he was controlling himself to take the traditional way.
He stopped sliding his fingers, resting them deep inside as he upped the pace of his hips and thrust hard. His fingers bumped around from the rocking motion. She wanted more which surprised her. She was shocked again when he freed one of her hands from the strap and sucked on her fingers. He let them go from his mouth and guided them under her belly.
“Tease your clit for me Margaret. Do not stop until I say so.”
She did. She tried to stay in time with him. It was quickly sensory overload and she was out of rhythm. It didn’t matter.
When he stopped thrusting she stopped moving her hand. His hand took hers and started it moving again.
“I didn’t tell you to stop.”
He slipped loose from her, gently leaning in before doing anything else.
“Still green?”
“Yesss.” Was the soft hiss.
“Good. Whatever you do, don’t stop moving that hand. I need you to stay relaxed. Can you do that?”
Maggie wasn’t sure but said “yes” on a moan.
Holding her hips firmly, cheeks wide, he pulled the fingers out gently and seated the head of his still wet cock at the first ring of tissue at her anus. It slipped in with a soft pop and a gasp from both of them. She had tensed slightly worried about the fit. She learned she didn’t need to as he was coated in a thick, heavy layer of cream. He was sliding in easily...slowly, but easily. He was more than a bit larger than the fingers and he moved carefully. He moved slower still when he got to the second ring of tissue bumping it gently for it to give passage without pain.
Still turning her clit, Maggie had slowed a bit to concentrate on remaining relaxed, but also in wonder at the sensations he was giving. It took a lot of concentration at firs
t, but again, inch by inch, he slid farther in, resting in place once his balls hit her backside. She was feeling a great deal of pressure and very, very full. The sensation eased as he stayed still a few minutes longer. She wanted him to move. Finally he did.
As slowly as he had entered, he pulled back, drawing all but the tip out. Maggie didn’t need to keep turning against the bead of nerves to stay wet now, she was drenched. She kept going anyway, just not as vigorously so as not to distract him to restart her. Thorne repeated the slow enter, hold and withdraw several more times before feeling comfortable enough to thrust.
Maggie let out a long low tone on the first continuous stroke. Her hitching, squeaky breaths returned after several more. Thorne had both of her hips held firmly and was pulling her onto him as much as he was thrusting himself in. Maggie’s broken, “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh...” came with each drive and she realized she was pushing back as much as he was pulling her back with each punch forward of his hips. Neither of them would last long this way. He was determined to outlast her.
She flew apart still teasing her clit with hard jerking contortions. He pulled free just in time a stroke later to spill his seed across the handprint that still marked her ass cheek. It was the most beautiful thing he could remember.
Thorne went to the washroom, returning with a warm wash cloth and towel. She was moaning softly still. He cleaned and dried her backside before turning her over gently. She was not as limp as he thought she would be. Her fingers, still rolling the pearl of her clit, revealed why and he growled.
“You would be such an excellent sub Margaret.”
He gently took her hand as he told her she could stop, replacing her fingers with his own covered with the warm, damp cloth. He massaged the angry knot with it several times before leaning in to finish her again with his mouth, teetering out the peak. Instead of blowing apart this time she slowly melted away, her body puddling into a warm heap on the bed. She felt amazing.
Thorne finished cleaning her up, put the towels away for the laundry and lied down beside her on the bed.
“What dolor are you Margaret?”
