Reading Notes
This is part four of a WHO FUCKING KNOWS HOW MANY PARTS story. Start at part one (Above)
Listening Notes
Let Go by Frou Frou
You almost flinch for an instant; your experimental dominant ego checks itself to find if it’s sprained, but something in you, or more properly, something in her, reminds you that submission is a gift and today’s your birthday. Just a bruise. You thrust into her with some force.
“I fully intend to. Hold still.”
You grasp her hips and push into her; the sensation of intense acceptance from deep inside her gives you a tingle which courses through your body; if you keep this up, this wasn’t last long, lad, so you need to slow down; think of something less exciting than her.
Your primal need trumps your conscious thought at this moment. I you buck into her, driving your shaft inside her and startling her with the sheer violence of the thrust; this is not a hate fuck, and you have nothing to prove to her, lad. Slow the fuck down.
There is a startling duality at this moment, and you’re aware of it as much as you’re aware of your boiling, knife-edge excitement at being inside this utter goddess; you want to run over the imminent precipice and feel how climax inside her feels, but you need to keep on fucking her – or is this something else? Is this something more, your subconscious asks. You can discipline your subconscious later. You withdraw from her just to see the light above the table shine in the wetness of her slickness smeared along the length of your cock, and then you drive back into her; you marvel at the walls of her entrance stretching slightly but perceptibly as you slide in; you withdraw and re-penetrate her again just to watch it.
All this attempted distraction will not work, lad. You’re fetishising everything about her, and this is not dispelling the basic theory that you are a fucking simp; you’re worshipping her when you thought your desire today was to use her; you’re not quite sure what you’re doing, are you?
I’m pretty sure I know what I’m doing. I’m making love to this…
Jesus fucking Christ. No.
You feel the building of the orgasm deep in your core, you feel the strangest sensation of sweat on your thighs, and a ringing in your ears; you take a breath and pull out of her. You stand still; she is still draped over the table; she can see you in the reflection now, standing behind her. She is tense, not knowing what to expect.
Suddenly, you hear that you are breathless. It’s a weird feeling, you aren’t used to this at all. You’re lightheaded, but you grasp your cock and squeeze beneath the glans and you have control again; you’re absolutely at the edge, but you have not gone over the edge. You silently count to five; she begins to push herself up from the table.
Suddenly, inspiration. You run your hand the full length of her back and get down on in a squat behind her.
“They can see you, you know. They can. But they look away as soon as they know. Some will stay and look. Let’s give them something to look at.
You spread her ass and bury your tongue in her just freshly fucked pussy; you’re back to tongue fucking her, and in the glory of that obscene gorgeous moment you can forget making love. Now you’re just making moans, and you couldn’t be more grateful. You lick up and down her soaked lips, taking in the taste of your own slippery precum and her now slightly creaming secretions.
Secretions. Now there’s a fucking word. Nothing secret about these now.
You know you’re going to do it, she knows you’re going to do it; she’s going to resist anyway. Good. A while since she resisted on ethical grounds. Your tongue slowly drags across her perineum to her ass, and you are doing that. That thing you’d never do, but she is a goddess and this is what simps do to goddesses. Your tongue flits over her ass; she tenses and says ‘no’ but it’s a lower case no. You stop.
“No?” Your question is straightforward and neutral as possible. She pauses, then reaches both hands to her ass and holds herself spread.
“yes” and it is a lower case yes.
Your tongue flits over her ass, because that’s this thing and this thing is where it’s going. You are behind her, imagining her face as you lick her asshole; this is not church literature, and this is beyond the boundaries of where this was supposed to be today.
She groans and accepts the sensation; this is an insanity much to be desired. What is up, and what is down now? You remember fairly quickly; you’re absolutely going down on her, it’s just much further down than either of you expected. If it’s this exciting for you, how does it feel for her?
You have your answer. She yelps and breathes sharply through her teeth; it’s good. You’re glad. You keep tonguing, not quite daring to slip your tongue inside her, but enjoying the certainty of the transgression.
“Jesus Fucking Christ!” She says and she backs into you, away from the window.
You move out of her way; if there hadn’t been a bed there, she’d have sprinted out the door.
She is out of breath and frightened.
“My husband!” She says. ‘He’s down there.”
You each stand to the side of the table, shrouded by the curtain.
“Your husband?” You laugh.
“Yes, my fucking husband. I’m sure he saw me!”
You know it’s not possible that anyone could see up, but she is genuinely frightened. You do the reckoning again, and you’re sure.
“You’re mine, remember? Mine. He hasn’t seen you. He hasn’t seen you.”
You place your hand in her hair and lead her back, firmly, but not roughly, to the table. She seems resigned to some fate. You bend her over the table, and you come to the side, standing right beside her. Her body parallel with the table top, you bring her head to the edge and you place your cock to the side of her head; it’s a gratifying sight to see her instinctively open her mouth; you let her take it in, and you stroke her hair as she, almost gratefully, begins to suckle on the head.
It doesn’t take long before the stroking of her hair has comforted her; she begins to more fervently suck and lick your shaft; she engulfs it on her mouth and you watch her in awe as her beautiful eye looks up at yours and you witness her submitting to the comfort it offers her; she sucks as you begin to respond instinctively yourself; the movement comes from your knees as you begin to slide into and out of her mouth. She gives a ‘hmmm’ as you do so, and you know that this is closing to the end; you feel the warmth build up again in your legs, through your body and across the small of your back; the undeniable, unstoppable sensation of the throb beginning to control the shaft of your cock and the hard, painful and totally gorgeous thermal shock of the climax controlling every part of you.
You are milliseconds away from the orgasm of your life, nanoseconds from the glory of feeling your cum erupting inside her gorgeous mouth. There is no room for silence now, so you fill the air with a roar; you pull your shaft from her mouth and begin to pump from deep in your body. You can feel your prostate thump, pulse and squeeze inside, and the beginning of the jet coursing through your dick; if you didn’t faint earlier, lad, you won’t now.
You watch in absolute awe as the first thread of white ecstasy flies out across her cheek; she almost panics to scramble from the chair to take up a position squatting in front of you, with her mouth open and her eyes close to begging you to cum hard.
You are in suspended animation; time stops as you watch yourself ejaculate; such an exciting word, such a burning, thrilling moment, gushing stream after stream across her pleading, gorgeous face. There is a chaos to this; lines of your silken spunk obscenely decorating her divinely compelling face, and here she is, the goddess, taking it like it’s manna.
You stop after what seems like a lifetime; your orgasm subsides and you are given over to the pain you’re used to after you cum; it’s glorious, you think. You stifle a laugh that you need; she doesn’t.
“Holy mother of God, where did that come from?” She asks, and she laughs again.
You smile, and you feel likelike it beams from you.
“You, my darling, are going to need a shower.”
“We,” she says.