by Belvin, Love
“Turn around. I want to see you.”
I turned on the base of my feet until our eyes met. Slowly, I released the buttons, watching Ezra’s eyes tracking my every movement. He reached over my shoulders and pushed the coat down, causing it to pool at my feet. His eyes swept down my body, heating me all over. He took me at the back of my head, covering my mouth with his own. I moaned helplessly, disappointed at how quickly my mood could change at the reception of his touch. His wide tongue moving in my mouth, caressing my own. My flexing hands moved to touch him only to be thrust against the wall just like the other day in the living room, minus the bestial handling.
Ezra stretched my arms astride my head, my palms meeting the coolness of the wall between the candles. I felt the heat of his tongue stroke my shoulders and my bra was unclasped. The whiskers of his beard traced my spine, stopping at the small of my back as he peeled it from my torso. It was so tender yet manipulating, just like the man himself. The sensations drove me crazy. My head swung to the other side, my right cheek hitting the wall, and I could see our images in a tall mirror ahead.
Fuck!
My temperature spiked at the sight of my ass puffing through the tiny string it swallowed and Ezra, now with his jacket and vest off and shirt unbuttoned, pulling my thong down with his damn teeth. My shoulders flapped and my lids closed in torture. Then I felt his face at the seam of my cheeks. When I forced my eyes open, half of it disappeared inside of me. His tongue swiped from my rear to the top of my labia. I wanted to cry from the pleasure, but struggled with letting it all go in this strange place. That’s when I realized the surroundings of the sandbox made me feel comfortable. Safe. In spite of the crazy shit he did to me down there—we did—I felt safe with letting go. But Ezra was a force. He licked, sucked, and sparred, unfurling pleasure deep in my groin. My thighs misted in their leather holdings, my nails scraped against the wall. And just when I was prepared to let it go, he pulled back.
“I need to hear you, kitten,” he groaned in my ear, the sweet musk from my sex provoking me. “You’re safe here with me. Don’t make me wrench it from you.”
I felt the moment he backed away from me. My shoulders collapsed and spine shivered, his body heat was that potent. Ezra returned, taking my arms from the wall and bringing them together at my back. I felt the soft corded yarn of a rope as he looped it around my wrists. My heart thrummed violently in my chest, fear reigning in every corner of my body. Never before had I been so frighteningly excited at an act that enticed me, thrilled me beyond belief. Bondage scared the shit out of me, but it undeniably made me feel alive. The first time he’d done it, I was too intoxicated and shocked from it being done by a minister to react the way I normally would. By the second time he’d done it on the plane, on our way to Indonesia, I had developed a level of comfort with him. Now it had become expected in spite of my fears.
My breathing turned ragged and competed with my beating pulse as he worked the rope up my arms until he stopped inches beneath my shoulders. Instinctively, my legs widened in preparation, my hips spread anticipating being filled; Ezra was partial to doggy-style. But only a satin strap appeared in my face and covered my eyes.
“If you can hold back on me audibly, let’s minimize your senses to push your enjoyment from those luscious lips.” Ezra tied the blindfold at the back of my head. I knew this maneuver; he’d taught me a while back. The fewer senses you rely on—seeing, hearing, touching—the more intense the pleasure bestowed on you. Once again, he was pushing me. “On the bed, kitten,” he rasped in my ear. “Face the headboard.”
I sucked in a heavy breath as he guided me onto the bed before carefully crawling in my thigh-high heels. I could feel the heat of his eyes as I managed on top of the firm mattress covered in silk. I couldn’t lay unless it was on my side, so I sat on my knees and faced the massive black leather headboard I observed before being blindfolded, feeling my lungs rapidly fill and empty. I never liked the element of surprise in my sex life. It had always been a red zone for me. And just my damn luck, it titillated the man I married on a whim.
I waited for a stretch. It was his thing. Ezra liked fucking with me by making me wait. It built my expectation and anxiety. Made me sick for growing partial to it. I shuffled on the bed, trying to relax and rest on a new area of my knees when I felt him smoothly slide between my thighs.
“Sit on me.”
Relieved for instruction, but not so thrilled by the prospect, I assessed his body parts with the back of my thighs and began to shuffle backward for his lap. Ezra slapped my thigh with a crisp blow halting my movements before I could manage over his broad shoulders.
“My face, kitten,” he growled.
“Yo-your face?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t do that, Ez—sir!” I whispered.
Another blow to the back of the other thigh. I sat up straight on my knees and squeezed my ass cheeks together.
“You can and you will.” His head pushed up and his face met my core. I felt the tip of his tongue firmly against my clit and my hips bucked.
“Ah…” I whispered.
He issued another thwack, this time to my ass. I’d just begun to feel the endorphins rush from the previous two, relaxing me into the position. My hips began to move on their own accord. Whether I liked it or not, my body responded to Ezra instinctively. My thighs tensed as I moved against his tongue, but I didn’t apply any pressure. I didn’t want to smother and kill the man, chasing an orgasm.
A fourth strike landed on my left cheek. Ezra never hit the same spot twice. I was sick for responding to the smarting aches. I’d grown familiar with the pain/pleasure pattern, knowing what to anticipate in the cycle of spankings.
“Sit!” he growled.
I lowered myself inches and felt the prickle from his beard on my ass. It tickled and tormented me. But his tongue and lips were quickly pushing me to the edge. Another strike and my groin stirred. I’d be damned if that quickly I was ready to explode on the man’s face. I had no activity of my hands to grab his head, no sight to take in his expressions to know if he could breathe or not. But damn it if my breasts didn’t bounce in the air as I plunged down onto his busy mouth.
“Permiss…” I swallowed hard, licked my lips. “Permission to come, sir.”
Ezra’s big hands grabbing my ass and wiggling it provided the last sensation needed to push me to my release.
“Ohhhhhhh!” began my cry of insanity as I danced on his face.
I felt powerful. Felt incredibly—and rarely—superior to my controlling husband, using his head to get off and depositing evidence of my bliss on his handsome face. I screamed like a crazed fool then whimpered like an injured cat.
When my orgasm ebbed, I could feel Ezra softly rubbing my booty, reverentially. I assumed it was his way of expressing appreciation of my submission. It was another response of his I was growing fond of. It was an act of true adoration. A spoof of genuine love.
Then he shifted, forcing me to do the same. He was over and behind me, at my ear again. His beard left traces of my essence on my cheek as he whispered, “Estuvistes estupenda, gatita. Eres la mejor. Ahora, como te podria recompensar? Hmmm?”
A moan shot from the back of my throat and my neck rolled back. The shit this man made me feel!
Fuck! “What did that mean?”
He chuckled, amused by my confusion at the height of my arousal. “You were so good, kitten. The best. Now how will I reward you?” he informed while playing with my sensitive clit. “I want to reward you. I am going to let you tell me what you want next.”
I wet my lips, surprised by what came straight to mind. “I want to see you come,” I whimpered.
“See me come, kitten?” he asked. “You have to be more specific.”
How could I share with him my obsession with his orgasms? That was sick. I was sick. Everything I did with this man and allowed him to do to me was sick. But I was willing to take it even further. I wanted more with Ezra. A connection. I wa
nted in my husband.
My mouth hung open, but no words would come to mind. The room went quiet as one song ended. Then John Legend’s “Tonight (Best You Ever Had)” began. How odd. It must have made an impression on Ezra, too. Inspired him.
“You did say you wanted to watch me ejaculate one day, didn’t you?” I could hear the revelation in his rasp. “Would you like that tonight, kitten?”
I bit my lip and nodded slowly. My only hesitation was understanding how he’d do it.
“Very well,” he uttered throatily.
My heart trembled at that. He laid me on the side of my face and shoulders, and my core roared when he entered me from behind, paying smoothing pushes into me. I could feel the pricks from the hairs of his thighs against the back of my own. Ezra didn’t keep gentle with his thrusts. He began plowing into me, dizzying me with the coarseness of his drives. I reveled in them, spreading my hips to invite more. He reached over and grabbed my hair, yanking my head up as he pounded into me. The grip on my scalp sent shards of pain through my skull, but I held tight to allow him to enjoy me. I focused on the might of his pelvis and the thickness of his dick as he moved in and out of me.
He let my hair go and my face slammed into the mattress. Within seconds the glow of relief hit my scalp, the endorphins followed, lighting my body afire. My sex contracted violently. Before I could think to ask for permission to come, he obviously detected it.
“Come, Alexis!” he demanded as he bludgeoned my pussy.
My orgasm hit me like a ferocious storm. “Ezzzzraaaaa!” I cried out.
My shoulders trembled a fit and knees gave out. Ezra pulled me up by the hips and continued with unrepentant lunges into me. For seconds long I couldn’t hear either. Just a glaring ring in my ear, drowning out every sound but my drumming pulse. Just as I began to come down, Ezra pulled out and appeared in front of me, lifting me by my hair. The wide mushroom crown of his cock pushed into my lips. Instinctively, I opened and turned wild with tasting myself on him. In my wildest dream I would have never thought I’d enjoy the taste of myself. But I prized it on Ezra. Everything about this man drove me wild, had me doing shit I’d swear to never doing.
I moaned over his deep thrusts into my mouth, helplessly without the benefit of touch from my hands. He controlled the depth of his dives by holding my hair with an unrelenting grip of his closed fist. The blindfold fell from my eyes and I blinked in the subtle lights from the softly lit candles. Ezra’s thick frame glowed against the shadows. His protruding ab muscles rolled as he pushed his pelvis into my head. When my eyes raked up to his face I could see the center vein of his head thick and pronounced as his tongue appeared and roved over his top teeth from one canine to the next.
Oh, he was here. The beast was very much present as he filled my mouth. After some time, his eyes were strained and his bottom lip sucked back in his mouth. I loved it. The sight increased my arousal far beyond a level I could believe after two orgasms. Ezra was damn beautiful. All man. He was now vulnerable, expressively enjoying my mouth. I moaned even louder, taken by it all.
“Christ, Alexis!” he shouted with a tight jaw as he pulled out of my mouth.
Ezra fisted himself several times, giving me the never before seen visual of his long and unfairly thick penis, veins bulging throughout behind the smooth engorged bulbous head in his care. The roof of my mouth itched to have it again. His big hand jerked it back and forth, torturing me. His lips were turned upright, tightened while his tongue pushed between seductively. Ezra was all alpha male, exuded it effortlessly. And just as soon as I thought he was displaying another area of his arrogance, opaque milky fluid jutted from the small opening, splattering on my nose, mouth, and chin in leaping spurts. I watched mesmerized as my husband skeeted on my face, christening me with his essence. It was something I craved in ways I knew were unhealthy, but this soothed something sick deep within. I was obsessed with experiencing Ezra’s undoing. It leveled him—for me. His head collapsed backward, visibly caught up in the rapture of bliss. It was a beautiful sight—he was a beautiful sight. Viral art.
Damn…
My pussy pulsated. Instantly, I felt like trash. Completely debased.
And incredibly empowered.
Ezra gained himself and quickly freed me from the rope, releasing the knot and unraveling until I could move my arms. Then he skirted off the bed, swiftly, while I rolled my shoulders back until I felt the blood flow into my lower arms and fingers. These ropes. They were magical, rendered me helpless to his sensual expertise. I feebly gathered the silk bluish-purple woven material in my hands and lifted it to my nose.
“Hang on!” Ezra shuffled back onto the bed with a warm wash cloth and rubbed his essence from me, reminding me of it being there in the first place.
That was how quickly I’d become consumed with one thing to the next as far as he was concerned. How could I forget I let a man skeet off in my face?
Ezra wiped my face and neck, surely smearing my makeup, but I didn’t care. I was momentarily satiated. He, on the other hand, was cagey, unusually delicate—apologetic almost. He left the bed to discard the wash cloth. When he returned, I snuggled underneath his thick warm frame.
“Alexis—”
“I prefer kitten,” I warned.
Ezra froze behind me. My tone was sharp, and intentionally so. If we were going to do this shit, he’d have to own it.
“Very well, kitten,” he continued throatily. “You know this is the part where we talk about how you feel. I need to know what you liked and didn’t like.”
I turned to face him, still feeling the reverberations from his rough plows into me.
“I wanted to see it.”
“But you never requested it that way, and…”
“And I’m okay. You’re a nasty ass, Ezra. A freak, and it’s obvious that I am, too.” My eyes fell at that unexpected revelation. “I just didn’t think you had a conscience about it.”
“A conscience?”
“Yeah. That first Sunday back in church worried the hell out of me.”
“Mouth, Alexis,” he cautioned with squinted eyes.
“It’s the truth,” I continued with my point. “I felt guilty about being there after all the things…”
Ezra kissed me sweetly on the head. “The things I’ve done to you?”
“The things I’ve allowed you to do to me.” I rolled my eyes and shifted my back to him.
“But you just said you were okay with what I just did.” I heard the solemn confusion in his voice.
“I am okay with it, and that bothers me.” My eyes cast out into the glow of the room.
“Why?”
“Because before you, I had next to no sex life. I really didn’t enjoy it and now…” I sighed, feeling the high fleeting my body. “Now I feel like something has been awakened in me.” I turned back to face him. Ezra’s bushy brows were almost meeting as he listened intently. “We married quickly then learned each other’s sexual appetite. It’s great, no doubt, but it’s weird because you’re a pastor for one, and two, I don’t feel that I know you outside of this.” I motioned around the room.
“You keep saying that.” He exhaled, frustrated.
“Because it’s true.”
“It is not. You know me very well. I can tell by the way you’ve been responding to me over the past few weeks alone.”
“I know how you fuck, Ezra. I don’t know what makes you so reclusive. I don’t know how you get up in front of thousands of people two times a week, minimally, and speak so eloquently about a matter that cures hearts and heals lives. I don’t know the man who has men, three times his size, paying him homage—at their knees crying out on the altar. The therapist who writes scripts and diagnoses problems. Who is the engineer that focuses so intently on graphs and in laboratories? What has you so captivated when you’re reading one of your thousands of scientific and philosophical books?” I peered deeply into his eyes, wanted him to understand my petition. “What drives your creativity when
you’re putting together these sermons, recommending treatments for patients, making discoveries in the lab, and when you’re…” I swallowed. “being intimate with me?”
Things went quiet for a stretch of time. I was beginning to think Ezra wouldn’t answer. But something in his eyes told me he didn’t know how. It wasn’t until he spoke that I knew he was determined to give me something.
“Would you think I was being disingenuous if I told you I don’t know?” There was something in his response, maybe the timid whisper that told me he was as sincere as it gets. “I don’t know how I was able to maintain all those roles before you. I ran on fumes, worked my mind and body into the ground, and slept very little. I just…” He shrugged, eyes bouncing about. “…performed. I have this charge that I must live out: ministry. Then I have these passions—martial arts, counseling, and engineering—that I felt the need to satisfy. They all help fill an empty space. I stayed so engaged that I would forget how lonely I was, because all of my pursuits involved people. No one told me I was behaving introverted before you. No one questioned my leisure to make me realize I didn’t have any.” He swallowed, and I watched the ball of his throat dip.
“Each of those vocations and hobbies drive my competitive nature. I want to be great. That’s what I thrive on. I’ve never been indifferent to mediocrity. I loathe it. Even attaining your hand in marriage, I pursued my need of you relentlessly. You’re my gift, Alexis.” That declaration made me forget about my role name of kitten. “I am grossly obsessed with your state of happiness with me because I don’t want to lose you. I meant it when I said my wellbeing depends on it.” And at that one, I took him at the chest, my palm landing at his racing heart. It reminded me of my frequent bodily responses to him.
“My name is Ezra Travois Carmichael. I was born to Sylvester and Mary Carmichael, and raised in Murray Hill - Heathcote in Scarsdale. I was never understood as a child, admittedly because I didn’t want to be. Not even my parents could keep up with my imagination, aptitude, and need to conquer concepts to explore. The only person with enough stamina to entertain me was my maternal grandfather, Bishop Travois Daniels. He’d spend copious amounts of time with me, listening to my ceaseless ramblings of science and fascination with books. He’d take me fishing and hunting on Saturdays. We’d hunt on the property I own today with you, and we’d fish a few miles from there.”
