She touched the little box in her pocket and smiled, feeling a contrasting shudder and affection for her lover. Her mind briefly went to a moment where she found herself panicked, standing alone momentarily in a dark room, but she shook the memory away, the only remnants the faint scent of sweat and cologne from that night.
She never thought that she would be obliging this resolution. It didn’t feel like an option, but the choice was this or to leave. That was it then: she could forsake her lover or give up all her free will. Today, at last, she decided upon her lover, content to give up her independence and never felt so free until this pivotal moment.
She walked into her lover’s home. The front door was unlocked, as it was the majority of the time. Silence greeted her, and for a moment she felt herself losing her nerves, the joy in the feeling of being free slipping tenaciously. She gulped for air, determined, and searched the rooms, coming into his bedroom.
The sound of a bathroom door opened, and there was her lover, steam rising in the background, skin glistening, covered in only a towel, and for a moment she thought he was a god come to deliver her. His cold grey eyes widened slightly, the only indication he was surprised by her unexpected visit, before narrowing. But no god, this man coming out of a shower. This was the man who knew every dark secret in her heart, who made fantasies come true without her ever realizing that she had them. I love this man, she thought, and smiled.
Remembering her place, she kneeled down on the floor. Fumbling, her trembling hand reached in her pocket and pulled out the small box – her gift of freedom in slavery. Lifting her head up and looking up at him, she extended her hand, palm up, with the box in it. He smiled, briefly, at her, and it was as if the sun beamed down upon her, so radiant and warm did she feel.
He gazed intently at her eyes, not moving, as if judging if she were even worthy, and she felt nervous. He always seemed to have an air of aloofness, distance. A woman used to making men crazy to be with her, she was incredibly turned on by his detachment.
He loved her; she knew that, but she had denied him sharing her in that black room, changing her agreement of acceptance. And then instantly regretted it, especially when she enviously watched another woman being shared with the men, the screams of orgasms making a hot pool between her own legs. And then he penetrated the woman, and she was equally turned on and insanely jealous that it was not she that was being used so.
He circled around her leisurely, and she moved her eyes to the floor, too nervous to follow his movements. She wished he wasn’t always so self-possessed, and craved to touch her as frequently as she desired his touch. Suddenly he grasped her throat, his other hand tilting her chin up, as he bent down to kiss her from behind. Tongue met tongue and she melted, clinged to him like life, gasping for breath by the end of the kiss.
She realized he hadn’t said a word yet. She also realized that he accepted her gift, though he hadn’t even touched it yet.
He moved to the front of her and removed his towel, already so hard. Grabbing the back of her head, he dove into her mouth and she frantically tried to open wide for him, to make her mouth as inviting as possible for his possession. He didn’t seek the softness of her lips or tongue, he delved to the back of her throat, and she tried to focus on breathing, knowing that this was part of her penance. She dropped the box from his movement, and let her hands drop to her sides. Her eyes watered and she felt the urge to gag with his inflexible sex touching the back of her throat.
She felt herself become wet, and hoped, so badly, that he would also thrust himself between different lips. He understood that about her, whereas no one had. She became free of burdens with him, and wondered why it had taken her this long to finally, fully submit to her own desires in him.
He pulled out of her mouth in the same manner that he had moved in, and either she lost sense of balance or his hand on the back of her neck guided to her fall forward so she was now hands and knees.
“As tempting a sight as that is, get naked and lay on the bed,” he commanded, and she felt herself tightening in anticipation. She scurried to get up, in such a rush to discard her clothing that she cast them upon the little box.
The box that would be opened hours later, when they had spent their passion out on each other, bound more firmly in love and trust and understanding.
Very nice...I should get you to write for the Fellatio Project on my site.ReplyDelete
beautiful write, so powerful and touching. Good things can come out of the darknessReplyDelete
Excellent story! It seems she got a second chance :)ReplyDelete
Very good erotic writing! Well-done and keep it up!ReplyDelete
That was so lovely to read! I really like what was in your box :)ReplyDelete
A lovely story and a hot read! Great use of the prompt, the way you make it run as a red line through the story :)ReplyDelete
Great use of the prompt, full of sexy passionReplyDelete
Hot and sexy!!!ReplyDelete
Sexy and hot and exciting.ReplyDelete
Great atmosphere. His commanding presence was beautiful established, and it was wonderfully taut too.ReplyDelete
Lovely descriptions! Very interesting read!ReplyDelete
So so hot; you have a filthy mind ... which is why I love it ;)ReplyDelete
Nice phrasing...inflexible sex, contrasting shudder and affection, obliging this resolution, incredibly turned on by his detachment...ReplyDelete
This is a man I could fall in love with, too.