Late that same night I held May’s wrists down and wrapped my legs around his waist. I hovered over his face and watched him. He rippled his body in an S-shape between my thighs.
“When are you going to fuck me?” he said in a tiny, tiny voice.
Now, I thought. I didn’t say it out loud. Instead I hooked a finger behind the steel ring around his neck and dragged him to his feet and through the bedroom door. I stripped his clothes off and left them in a trail of little satin puddles. I pulled tan leather straps and silicone from our new teak toy chest. When I bought the chest it came with a little card, detailing the history of the ships the teak was salvaged from.
I pressed him into the bed with one hand on the dip of his spine. He arched his back in the air with his ass pointing straight up, and I laughed and had to push him back down to get him in a position I could actually penetrate from.
He made the most amazing noises. He started by moaning vowels out low in his throat, like music. When I thrust faster he gave low boar-grunts that ended in little mouse-squeaks, and when I finally stopped and lay across his back he sighed so deep I could feel it curl his toes.
5 Comments
In the realm of “totally missing the point,” that toy chest sounds awesome.
It is totally awesome. I adore it. It has bits of brass from leftover fillings and nails scattered over it.
I still say “finally” always comes to soon. And, of course, I don’t. :P
Also, I’m huggling you with my brain.
Gulp
This and the post prior were absolutely precious. I love reading descriptions of intimate (and sexxay!) moments from the point of view of other dominant women. It makes me feel less alone.
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