Ruf was late back so I had already settled myself from the long drive and had time for a welcome powernap. As I emerged from the bedroom to greet him in the hallway, I could smell the afterwork drink at the pub and then taste the familiar residue of the lager on his tongue. Staropramen, my favourite.
‘Hello bab-a,’ he whispered against my mouth as my questing hands reached under his tshirt for their goal. The soft crackle of his chest hair against my fingertips making me sigh with pleasure as our kisses became deeper and more probing. Without breaking away, I was pushing off his jacket and lifting up his shirt, trying to undress him without stopping the intensity of his mouth but it was no good. I had to release his lips momentarily to pull it over his head so it was half on/half off, resting across the back of his neck with his arms pinioned by the sleeves. I dragged off my own tshirt and stepped out of my skirt, revealing my pretty pink lingerie and the lacy topped hold ups that he loves so well, before pressing my flesh back against his naked torso and re-engaging his lips.
Ruf’s kisses are my undoing. They weaken me, make me desperate for him, raise goosebumps on my flesh and liquidise my panties until I’m panting with my desire. But this time I had a plan. I would be in control. Normally, despite our best intentions to delay and get maximum satisfaction, the yearning of the long absence finds us coupled within an hour of my arrival. But not this time. For once, I would be the one giving all the pleasure… because the manner of that giving meant that I received as well.
I started to manoeuvre him backwards towards the doorway to his bedroom, lifting his arms up above his head as if my intent was solely to remove the restriction of the tshirt and, before he realised what I was doing, one hand was cuffed to the bar across the doorframe.
He smiled curiously as he allowed me to imprison the other above his head and then his mouth was against mine again. His tongue exploring that warm wetness as he became my willing captive. Without interrupting our kissing, my hands were at his waist, releasing the button, unzipping and sliding down jeans and boxers in one movement. Using my foot to drag them down from his knees and, after he’d freed his feet one by one, I kicked them away with my toe. He was mine now. Naked and restrained. To do with as I wanted.
I broke the seal of our lips and kissed his chest and shoulder as I slipped around behind him, pressing my pushed up and precariously constrained breasts against his back, feeling the globes squash into his firm flesh and sliding them up and down as I whispered sweet nothings into his ear.
Reaching around, I knew exactly where to find it and his gasp, as my hand grasped the rigid pole of his longing, echoed mine at the size of it. His increased excitement at the surprise of his unaccustomed submissive position was reflected in the exponential expansion of his tool. And I intended to play a merry tune upon it starting with something that I believe is called ‘The Rabbit’ So I shaped my fingers as if I were making a bunny’s shadow and slid them confidently up and down his rigid wood.
Wanking him from behind gave him the equivalent sensation to that which he experiences when he masturbates, especially when I changed the handgrip slightly so that my third finger was underneath his shaft, just the way he does it and I could feel the shivers of potential release starting to run through him. Taking him close to the goal and then drawing him back again so I could pleasure him some more. Pushing myself ever more firmly against his back to gain the maximum purchase on his member, again and again, I let him climb upwards; only to stop before he reached the summit until he was breathless with wanting me, struggling against the cuffs that held him.
I whispered softly into his ear to reassure him and slid around to kiss him again. Wrapping my arms around his neck and telling him how I was going to be his cocksucker. How much more excited my mouth was going to make him and, as I kissed my way down his body until my knees touched the ground, he laughed as I looked up earnestly at him, reversing the roles suddenly and entreating him to let me be the ‘Milky Princess’ by coming on my upturned visage.
Surveying the vista before me with a sense of wonder for, no matter how many times I’ve seen this piece of equipment, I still can’t help but revel in its glorious beauty… and delight in my joy at the prospect of opening up every part of myself before it.
Latching on to the job in hand and applying the tip of my tongue to the exposed head as my fingers slid the foreskin backwards. Increasing the pressure and encircling him with my lips, salivating and drooling for lubrication and watching it dribble down the shaft. Loosening my grip a fraction to allow its passage beneath my palm and then utilising the welcome slippery enhancement to accentuate its passage back and forth.
Raking my other hand over my breasts, flicking at the pert nipples poking furiously through the lace of my bra and down over the soft firm flesh of my belly, I slid my fingers inside the little panties and soaked them in my liquid lust. Knowing that he was not going to be allowed to fuck me first was making me so excited. The whole idea of being dominant, whilst still being submissive, dissolving me into a puddle of wet confusion which I slicked onto his erect member with my willing fingers.
One hand on his balls, hardening beneath my touch as his moans erupted over my head, the other on the hilt of the column that stretched solid above it, drenched with my spit and gleaming in the reflected lamplight. Swooping my mouth downwards and opening my throat to capture its full extent until I could feel it threatening to activate the gag reflex. Withdrawing just a fraction and then trying to go just that little bit further downwards. Pulling back and then letting him thrust into my willing orifice, controlling his trajectory with my hand, just permitting him to slide in and out over and over. Using my mouth as his hole, jerking his hips and fellating himself with it as my fingers tickled and scratched at his balls.
And then, withholding the aperture as he tried to push back in. Gripping him between both palms and stopping his forward momentum, only to replace it with ‘The Firestarter’. Rubbing his slippery dick between my two hands like a boyscout with an overlarge twig and smiling at the noises emanating from above my head as his knees started to buckle with the intensity of the pleasure.
Hanging helplessly from the cuffs as I opened wide and took him back inside the warm wetness, sucking at the tip as I wanked him between my thumb and middle finger. Drawing on the end as my rhythm increased to the point of no return and then slowing it all down again until he was weak and pleading to penetrate me. But I had to remain firm. This was my game! So I reapplied the pressure until my hand on his cock became a blur of moving flesh before my eyes. My mouth ravishing the tip of that proud head until his groans from overhead gave the warning.
‘On my face, on my face, on my face…’ I demanded as, with a mighty effort, he held on long enough to pull himself away and give some directional control to the effusive gush of the preceding wank-free week. Closing my eyes and presenting my face, I felt it spurting onto my eyelids, my nose, my cheeks; dripping downwards to my mouth, where my tongue lapped it up and hungrily consumed it.
The best cakes always have a sweet, sticky topping and I was no exception.
Originally posted 2007-11-11 16:02:00. Republished by Blog Post Promoter