by Lucian Bane
The tingle in her clit made her entire body shudder.
He slid the stool next to him over. A ladder. To climb up by.
And just how was she supposed to do that without looking stupid?
As though sensing her dilemma, he moved the stool. “Stand there.”
She moved into the spot he indicated.
“But… face me,” he said.
Oh. Duh. She turned and faced him, feeling like she were facing a firing squad.
“Hold on,” he said softly while sitting on the edge of the stool. She put her hands on the top of the snack bar and he stood. Her gaze roamed the wall of muscle and silky skin just before her now. She looked up to find him staring down at her. His mouth lowered and his lips pressed into hers even as his warm hands wrapped her waist and lifted her up.
She gasped when he pulled away, his warm fingers softening around her before gliding down to her hips and over her outer thighs as he settled back on his stool.
Charlotte eyed him, breathless with need as he stared at where his dietary enhancements lay between her closed legs.
He finally looked at her, with only his eyes. The silent order was clear. Serve me your pussy. Now.
“How would you… like my legs?”
“Out of my way.”
The low rumble in the words said he was starving. “I mean … how do you want them open?”
He shook his head a little. “However it makes your pussy the hottest.”
Oh dear. She slowly leaned back on her elbows. She definitely wanted to watch this. Watching him, she slid her knees apart then slowly pulled them back. By the time she was done, she was nearly whimpering with the lethal look that had taken over his face.
She bit down on her lower lip as his eyes devoured every inch of her pussy, angling his head a little as he explored without touching.
“I dream of this,” he whispered, gliding the tips of his fingers over her inner thighs, slowing then stopping at the juncture. He leaned and she braced but he paused before touch down. “This smell,” he muttered. “It echoes in my every fiber. My every dream.” He slid the tip of his nose across the left, dipping between her lips. Her breath flew out when he swept it up and brushed left and right over her clit.
He pulled up and stared down, a look of hungry awe on his face. If Charlotte wasn’t so ready for him to eat her pancake she would have smiled at how he seemed to forget there was a person attached to that dessert he scrutinized.
Finally he placed his hands exactly on either side of her open thighs. His fingers began to massage with an eager tension, echoing his hunger. “God,” she whispered, ready to cry for it.
His gaze shot up to hers from between her legs. “What?”
The fire in his eyes flickered with a hint of worry, maybe that she’d stop him.
“Just … eat the pancake, Rider,” she gasped.
Like the gunfire signaling the start of a race, he dove on her with a ferocity that made her cry out in shock. She shuddered in open mouth ecstasy as that beautiful man, face harsh and intense, ate her pussy with a feral hunger.
“Oh, oh God,” she panted. His lips and tongue—a prickly, liquid heat, pressed into her, then sucked and pulled at her lips and clit. His hands covered her entire inner thighs as though to ensure she didn’t get away. “Poe!” She fought to see more, feel perfectly, reaching with one hand to latch her fingers into his silky hair.
He growled in answer when she scraped her nails along his scalp in hungry encouragement, hissing and gasping through the onslaught.
She watched as the tip of his tongue swirled around her clit then flicked with a fury on the very tip.
“Oh God, oh God,” she cried, nearing orgasm. “I need to come Rider,” she gasped, worried at how soon it was.
He answered by shoving a finger deep into her core for vigorous jabs and sucking her clit into his mouth, flicking the tip with his tongue. God the fire. She fell to her back and grabbed his head with both hands pulling his hair as she screamed her orgasm. Poe’s hand clamped down on her breast, his fingers kneading with a delicious pain before pinching her nipple for an added ten seconds to the storm in her body.
She was delirious when he suddenly pulled her upper body up, held her face and kissed her with his pussy soaked mouth, his breaths rough and scorching. She didn’t have time to worry what he’d do, he was suddenly grabbing her hips and pulling her off the counter onto his waist. She was in his lap facing him, latched onto his shoulders as he worked her onto his cock.
“Yes, Rider, yes,” she whimpered.
The second his thick head penetrated her entrance, he clamped his large hands on her waist and jerked her onto him with a growl that said he was going to fuck her so hard and good.
Charlotte shrieked and he kissed her, wrapping one arm around her body and grabbing her hair with a painful grip, moving her over his cock. She couldn’t hold back her screams right in his mouth and that’s exactly what he seemed to want, where he wanted them.
“Fuck, your pussy Contessant,” he rasped, sucking at her lips. “Exquisitely tight on my cock!”
“Poe,” she cried, when his finger pushed into her ass. “Poe, oh God. So good,” she whispered.
He answered with a lustful grunt, pushing his finger deeper while his arm, an iron band around her back, vigorously moved her on and off his cock until she was delirious with ecstasy. “Contessant,” he growled harshly, on her mouth. “Kiss me.”
She grabbed his face and made love with his tongue, devouring his hot breaths now blasting in loud groans into her mouth. “Come in my pussy Rider,” she gasped.
He kept her tight to his groin in shorter, faster, harder thrusts as he climaxed. The frenzy gripped him and his arm tightened around her, biting harder than ever as he forced her to a hard, close bounce on his cock. Harsh growls flooded out of him and she captured every bit of it with her mouth, forcing him to deliver it right into her lungs. God, she couldn’t get close enough to him and her fingers dug in his face, holding him tight.
He held her with both arms, pressing her body tight to his as they both fought to catch their breath, still kissing, tasting the aftermath of that traumatic heaven. “Wow,” Contessant gasped in his mouth. “So amazing.”
“Tell me you’ve never had this before,” he gasped. “Tell me I’m the first.”
“Very first,” she whispered, stroking his face. “I’ve never felt anything close to this, I promise.”
“Thank God,” he muttered, burying his face in her neck to lick and suck like a man that would never be sated. “I can’t bear thinking you shared such a thing with anybody but me.”
“Only you Poe,” she said, smiling while running her fingers all over in his hair.
“As it should be,” he murmured in her neck.
First Play Date (with toys)
Poe studied all the items he laid out on the bed. One by one, he picked them up and read everything that could be read, several times. He had already researched the toys online, making sure he understood each one’s function. He wanted to start slowly and build up. But as he considered each toy’s use, his greedy, insatiable sexual appetite with Contessant said he could never have too many toys at once.
Divinities. Each one produced an hour long session of pleasure in his mind. The restraints had his cock impossibly hard as he imagined her tied up, helpless to his nasty plans. He loved that word more everyday, as well as all the other words he’d learned.
He had yet to spank her. He had it all perfectly imagined—her on all fours, his finger in her pretty, lifted ass, and his cock deep in her pussy. He couldn’t wait to feel her hot silk clench him when he spanked her. His biggest fear was spanking her too hard while in the throes of pleasure. He’d asked her. She’d said hard, not helping him. He asked her to show him how hard, to demonstrate on his shoulder. He was rather shocked at how hard she wanted it and at the same time aroused out of his Octavian mind about what that would do to him. He was sure the bite of her pussy would exact
the most disgraceful climax right from him.
He examined the soft rope next. He’d studied the tying as well. It was an art for many and he could see why. Divinities, he wanted to lick her pussy again, while she was tied open. Just lick her clit non-stop until she was shuddering in orgasm. Then wait the appropriate amount of time and do it again, only different. So many positions to fuck her in.
And then so many things to make her do to him. He’d gotten some toys for the male as well. He intended to be open in their explorations but he was a bit nervous about some of them. He wasn’t so sure he would enjoy the things they were intended for, but he was willing to try at least once, to know.
Heat pulsated in his cock at recalling the way she sucked the thick head so vigorously. Mind blowing. And her teeth scraping along his length turned him into an animal with no restraint.
What would he do first, was the question. He had several scenes he wanted to play with her from the story. The angry Dom was one but he’d not play it the way the man in the story had. He could never be angry with Contessant to the degree he had been. The so called hero was in obvious need of medications, but the sexual dynamic that Poe extracted from the story was all Scribbler needed.
No, not all she needed. There were vital parts missing in the story. That she was deserving of love and pleasure. But the Dark Rider would skirt that edge just enough to trick her lovely mind and body into thinking she was getting her punishments, while actually, she was getting something else entirely. And that was his ostentatious scheme. To use the lies in her pretty mind and teach her the truth of the matter. And the darkness, well, that lowly coward he would use to light up the way. If there was one thing Poe was proficient at, it was seeing things from the opposite end of the looking glass. Being a character of fiction as well as a man, it seemed perfectly sensible to slip into the skin of her demon and dance his Contessant to a new song.
He was quite honored to spank her pretty ass until she understood and respected the divinity of her womanhood. And he wouldn’t have to pretend he was angry or pissed, was the word, that she didn’t know these things. Her lovely ass would certainly feel his wrath on the matter.
He eyed the clock on the nightstand. She’d return soon from shopping. He instructed her to find the proper clothing for this occasion. She was to wear white. He didn’t care what it was, as long as it was white.
“White?” she’d said, sounding like it was an odd color.
“Very white,” he’d insisted.
“Why white? What about red? Black?”
“White.”
She’d rolled her eyes, confirming Poe’s deductions. She wanted nothing to do with purity and goodness where her dark sex fantasies were concerned, so sure that neither had place in them. But they had every place in them, Poe felt. His sweet Contessant had to learn that it was exquisitely angelic for her to play nasty with him. Very nasty. And so she should dress the part.
He, however, would dress in black as her Dark Rider.
Poe contemplated when he’d first met her on Earth and listened while blind, about that dark time in her life. He remembered clearly the longing for the chance to go back in her past and change the dark times. And now he would. He would muse upon that shatter in her life, ride it until it bowed to the desires of his heart. Which was to love, cherish, and treasure his Contessant, his wife, his queen, his magnificent Scribbler with the realm changing scribblings.
Indeed. He gathered up all his toys and began to ready the playing field.
The Biggest Orgasm in all the Realms
Charlotte stared at herself in the mirror. “You look ridiculous,” she mumbled adjusting her nipples to appear exactly in the center of the slit lace. She wasn’t fond of white teddies, so she found one with the least material to it. The whole piece was sheer—but white—no back or stomach, scrap of sheer over her front, g-string up her ass, and a convenient slit on the center of the sheer material over her breasts. Oh and the garter and stockings of course.
She didn’t have large breasts or small. They were in the middle and common she thought. But the way Poe reacted to them, they were the most naughty, most outlandishly sexy things he’d ever seen. She smiled in the mirror, very in love with the way her tits drove him crazy.
She fussed with her hair next, fixing it ten different ways before deciding she wanted it down, so he could pull it if he so desired. And she prayed he did so desire. Her stomach fluttered wildly at wondering what he had in mind. He’d set up their play room in the spare bedroom and she’d not peeked, as instructed. It was getting harder and harder to find him cute with this change in him. He was perfect for the role he played, she’d constructed him to be a formidable, highly intelligent warrior. And he looked the part, down to the scars, bright silver eyes, and long scraggly hair. His white skin glowed, stretching nice and tight over every inch of hard muscle. Like he’d been dipped in creamy vanilla.
Her arms flew out at her sides when she took a step and her ankle twisted in the spiked heels. Sheesh. Placing a hand on her chest, she took a deep, calming breath and headed to meet Poe.
No. Rider. She headed to meet Rider.
Standing at the guest door, she felt really weird in her own house and skin. She closed her eyes and yelped when the door yanked open.
“You’re late, Contessant.”
She stared at him, mouth open in lust, unable to even think past his… attire. Black leather pants clung to his every muscle but it was the crotch that held her mouth open. There wasn’t one. And his extremely hard cock was sheathed in sheer black.
Her gaze rose over his milky abs, heaving in … some kind of excitement. She swallowed at the leather crossing his chest and the silver rings around his nipples. By the time she made it to his face, she was a jitter bug on noodle legs.
Ohhhh, that face. Dear God. Like he was headed to battle, eyes flashing with intensity, jaw and mouth set with lethal plans. “Go stand by the chair,” he said.
The deep rumble in his voice made her stomach clench, but it was the bite that had her nervous. He sounded… a little angry. Was she that late? Had he given a specific time even? She didn’t recall if he had. Shit. Way to start their first play date.
On her way to the chair, she eyed the bed, surprised to not find anything on it. The chair he sent her to was just a plain wooden chair with no arms, only a back. The missing equipment had her curious. Had some of the stuff not come in?
“Is there a problem, Contessant?”
The soft tone so close made her spin. Poe caught her in his arms when she lost her balance. “Sorry,” she whispered, staring up into his gaze. The feel of his hard, hot muscles against her made her forget everything but him. “Lost my balance.”
He stared into her eyes, seeming to search for something. Fear made her heart race as he slid his thumb over her lower lip. She parted them, wanting to suck, but knowing better than to act without instruction.
He dipped his thumb between her lips as his hand squeezed her left butt cheek hard, making her gasp. He gave a low groan and pushed the tip into her mouth, his face moving in, watching up close.
She sucked with hunger, twirling her tongue around the rough tip, flicking and biting. God she’d never been so hungry for anybody or anything. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted from him only that she had to have it, whatever he gave.
“You look very angelic in that, Contessant,” he whispered, moving his thumb along her tongue as she sucked. “Are you my sweet angel?”
Dear Lord, definitely not.
He pulled his thumb out and wet her lower lip. “You must say it,” he said, moving to grip the other side of her ass now. “Say you’re my sweet angel.”
She closed her eyes and made herself obey. “I’m… your angel.”
His hot breath shot out on her mouth and he took her face between both hands, his thumbs stroking as he studied her lips. He finally lowered and kissed with a curious, delicate hunger. “Say it again,” he said.
Her fingers dug into hi
s chest as his tongue swept along hers. “I’m… your angel,” she gasped in his mouth.
He pulled up, shaking his head a little. “I don’t like what I’m hearing.” She stared at him, breathless and unsure of what he meant. “You don’t’ believe it,” he whispered.
What? “I do,” she nodded, hoping to rectify her performance. God, why was he making her play an angel? She didn’t want to be good and sweet, she wanted to be bad with him.
She fought her rising frustration. Just let him play his game.
He stood before her, seeming to take note of her attire for the first time. He angled his head, licking his lips with his gaze locked on her breast. “I’m going to tie you up nicely,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to see your tits in this tie. His gaze lowered. “And your pussy. I have a very special rope.”
Mercy, yes.
He suddenly produced a strip of white silk. “I want you blind,” he said, putting it over her eyes. “I want you to learn to see in the dark. Do you understand?” he said behind her now.
She nodded then cried out when he pinched her nipple.
“How do you answer me, sweet angel?” he whispered at her ear.
“Yes, Rider,” she panted, moaning at the slow stroke of his finger lightly over both nipples now.
“You’re my good angel?”
“Y-yes … Rider,” she said.
He made tsking sounds with his tongue. “You certainly need a lesson.”
Yes, she certainly did, anything with pain.
He cut her attire right off of her, leaving only the garter belt and stockings. The press and pull of soft rope began at her upper arms and several minutes into his tying, she realized he seemed to be creating some artistic design with it. With her arms and shoulders pulled back tight, he crossed above and below and through the center of her chest next, pulling so that her tits and nipples jutted with a delicious, tight pressure.
