TITLE:
Lick
PAIRING: Em/Fem
RATING: NC-17
AUTHOR:
Dru
WARNING: HIGHLY EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, light bondage
PLEASE OH PLEASE: If you're a young adult (aka teen) and cannot handle adult
situations or relationships, please don't read this fiction. It's a LOT more detailed
than my usual stuff and VERY erotic (I hope) - so please read only if you are
mature enough to handle it.
CHALLENGE:
silk blindfold, cherries, brush
~
Lick ~
He vaguely recalled hitting the pillow with a thud that night. After having
been in the studio until
And
it didn't surprise him in the least that she would take advantage of such a
situation. She was a minx that way.
"So…
what's this?" He asked, glancing up at the silk ties that held his wrists
securely to the headboard.
His
wife smiled devilishly at him and he looked beyond her to a few candles lit
around the room. They normally would give the room a romantic flare, but that
night, the few candles seemed to burn eerie in the silence of the dark of
night.
"Baby?"
He asked.
"Retribution,"
was her reply before she crawled a top his naked form. She straddled his hips
and his hardening penis rubbed against the somewhat scratchy lace panties she
wore and caused him to moan against her lips as she kissed him extremely
softly. She slipped her hands around his head to tie the last scrap of silk
over his eyes.
He
tugged on the silk bonds that held him prisoner and he felt her lips just over
his earlobe. "If you *dare* break those ties, you will only have just
*begun* to know true pain," she threatened and sent a jolt of energy right
down his body to his cock and he thrust up against her cloth-covered sex
helplessly.
Her
lips kissed him ever so softly- first on the ear, then to his cheek, his nose,
his eyes, his chin everywhere but his lips. He wanted to kiss her to- OH. He
understood. It was the game.
The
game he'd started and while he'd chosen a bit of force to get the job done-
*she* was going to use. . . well. He wasn't sure. He couldn't *see* what she
was to use. But he'd have wagered any amount of money on the fact that he'd
probably enjoy it. Immensely.
Her
hands held his head gently as her lips brushed over his face and he had nothing
to do but twist his hips and hope she'd take pity.
"Ya
know," she whispered against his lips, "I've thought of this for a
while now- what girl *hasn't*? Having you tied up for my pleasure?" She
laughed a throaty, seductive laugh that caused him to swallow. "And I
*will* have my pleasure,
"Shit,"
he gasped.
She
just laughed a bit more before sliding down a bit on his body. Her fingers
crawled across his chest before walking up his arms. Her lips followed suit as she
peppered kisses up first his right arm and then his left, pausing to lick each
one of his fingers and she even took his left index finger into her mouth briefly
to suck.
He
groaned and she enjoyed his body's reaction to her mouth- how it twisted and
squirmed under her body. Each movement was running up and down her spine, turning
her on even more. She could feel the ever-pleasant pulse of blood flow to her
vagina as she rocked a bit against him.
He
moaned to protest when she released his finger and began moving back down his
body- placing kisses over his collarbones. He felt her tongue sweep across his neck
and across the roughness of his day-old stubble.
"Shit…
Baby," he groaned.
"Yes?"
She asked softly. But he pursed his lips and kept them quite. She was glad. She
didn't want to end the game so quickly.
She
moved her mouth over one of his nipples and like a raptor, closed over it with
her teeth with no warning. He nearly came undone with her teeth digging ever so
painfully sweet on his nipple. He grabbed the silk ties with his hands and
threw himself at her mercy.
Her
fingers scraped up his sides, over each rib, feeling the muscles tighten and
flex for her and it excited her that she could have such an effect on his - on
a man- that she had so much control over the controversial 'Eminem'.
She
slid further down his body so she was straddling his lower legs and he really
was unsure what to expect. He just knew that all he could see was the darkness
of the blindfold and all he could feel was the familiar weight of his wife on
his legs and the rubbing of the lace every now and then when she moved slightly.
And it drove him crazy- not even knowing if she was naked besides the panties-
or if she was wearing a t-shirt.
He
pictured her straddling him, wearing nothing but the panties, just her hair and
the candle's glow flickering in her lustful eyes. He could tell the situation
was getting to her as well. He *knew* it- could hear her little pants- ones
that were for him and him alone- the ones she'd make when she really started getting
aroused- when she'd start getting wet…after a bit of foreplay or when she was
really really horny. He always loved those pants- when her chest would start to
heave just a bit more than normal and her nipples would start to perk up just a
bit- enough to make her moan if he twisted them gently.
But
he couldn't touch them, couldn't touch her hips or slide the panties down
*over* her hips… couldn't slip a finger inside her to see how wet she was.
Couldn't do anything. And it was *killing* him.
And
she *knew* it.
Had
been *waiting* for it.
He
bit his lip when he felt… something- he wasn't sure what it was- tickling the
hairs around his penis. "Baby- what-"
"Shh,"
she whispered as she dipped the basting brush in the cherry juice. On this
pass, she moved the wet brush around the base of his penis and dipped the brush
back into the bowl. On the next pass, she watched as his skin jumped when she
placed it just above his navel and painted an arrow on his skin, pointing to
her prize.
"I
don't think I've told you lately, Baby, how magnificent you are," she
said, painting the underside of his erection.
"Oh?"
He nearly choked on his words.
"How
well you fit inside me- or how good you always feel…"
He
practically came… practically spewed himself in her face, ruining whatever she
was working so carefully on. Some sort of brush… or something. Paint? She was painting
on him? Didn't matter- he practically *came* at the thought of her talking
dirty to him. She so rarely did and it was *obviously* something that mattered.
He prided himself on his ability to rhyme her to orgasm.
"Yeah?"
He gulped.
"Mmm,"
she moaned, popping one of the cherries into her mouth. She leaned forward, to
his lips, and coaxed his mouth open with her tongue, which wasn't too hard to
do. He stilled himself and allowed himself her kiss since there was nothing he
could do. As she kissed his lips, she pressed the cherry against the roof of
her mouth with her tongue and the juices dribbled into his mouth.
His
hips thrust almost violently against her when all he could do was helplessly
receive the juices and a brief encounter with his wife's tongue.
"Shit,"
he growled.
"Baby?"
She asked, anticipating his surrender.
Fuck-
he bit his tongue on that one. He knew what she was waiting for, but he was far
from ready to give in. Or… he was at least not *quite* *there*… yet.
She
shifted her weight back to his lower legs and resumed painting his upper and
inner thighs. "I just *love* your body, Marsh," she continued.
"Love feeling your muscles under my fingers. When you're on me and in me
and I can feel your back or your ass flexing each time you slam into me-"
He
bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood on *that* one. She *never* spoke this
way to him.
"Or
when I'm riding you- when I'm like this, squeezing you inside me like this"
she grabbed his penis with hands covered in cherry juice and stroked him hard "and
I can feel your abs under my fingers- reacting to me- feel your hands on my
hips, guiding me…"
"Shit,
please," he muttered under his breath.
"What?"
She moaned. She was so unbelievably turned on, she was ready to pop. She
couldn't believe the words escaping her lips but with his eyes not on her- without
his demanding hands grasping her- there was a certain freedom. Without his
gaze, she felt free-er to say… god- what was she saying?
"Nothing,"
he said, regaining his composure. He *knew* she was ready to giving up on it.
He could hear it in her breath- hear her pants coming more frequently, rhythmically.
He could feel her hips gyrating, perhaps to some internal sex beat he often
though she had. Every now and then, he'd feel her hips just moving- not in tune
with anything he'd be doing, but her hips would be rocking rhythmically and her
insides grasping him too- all in perfect sync. It was rare that he was able to
concentrate enough on what he was feeling and almost *hoped* she'd leave the
blindfold on when she finally sheathed him inside her. He could practically already
*feel* the pressure on his cock. It was like the weight of the room, the thickness
in her voice- the blatant sexual descriptions she was saying- he couldn't
believe it.
"Nothing?"
She practically squeaked.
"Yeah…
so you were saying… about *me*…" he trailed his voice off and hoped to god
she'd continue talking to him.
"Right,"
she said, reminding herself of just who was tied to the bed. "Well,"
she said, climbing off the bed and he felt loss- loss when her weight was no longer
on him, close to his penis- granted… she was his wife and he loved her and she
loved him and it was not all sex… but tonight was… all about his penis. It was
soo sensitive- and she knew it too.
Which
is why, as she was sliding her panties down her tanned legs, she blew gently on
his erection and watched his body shake violently in denied release. His cock
bobbed in the air and she couldn't remember a time when he had been so hard and
the red from the juice only enhanced the already red color the blood caused it
to be.
"You
know what you do to me?" She asked. "Huh? You *know* what you to do
me, Marsh? What you did the other night? When I was coming so hard, I didn't
think I would stop?" She took the panties and lightly dragged them down
over his forehead over his nose and mouth. He inhaled her scent and could
*feel* the wetness they contained. *Her* wetness- for *him*- the wetness she'd
*created* by her little game. The fact that she was turning *herself* on so
much excited him as well.
He
felt the fabric run all the way down his chest, over his stomach and he jumped
when she took it and rubbed it against his cock- fisted him with it and rubbed
and his hips bucked up into her hands and he screamed "STOP!"
She
immediately pulled away. "Yes?" She asked, victory in her voice.
He
didn't have to tell her she'd won. She *knew*. She*knew* that had been his
undoing. She'd felt him jerk-feel the tightening of the muscles in his shaft - signaling
how close he was to losing it and coming all over.
"Please,"
he said, clearly. "Baby, please- whatever you want, but please… I have to
come."
"What?"
She asked, probing for just a bit more, teasing his lips with her tongue.
“*Let*
me come," he said and as soon as it had passed his lips, her mouth was
attacking his savagely and he kissed her back, his head raising up off the
pillow to be close to her mouth, since he couldn't pull her head toward him.
He
felt her hands at one of the bonds and it surprised even him when he said,
"Leave 'em."
She
didn't question it. Didn't want to.
She
straddled his hips and guided his penis to her dripping entrance. And when she
sunk down on him, they both screamed out in pleasureful pain. The intensity of
the evening only fueled the fires within and she interlaced her fingers with
his, which were still trapped by the bonds, as she moved on him, taking him
over and over.
He
could feel her hips moving to that sex beat that he had yet to recreate in the
studio, no matter how many times he tried. He just couldn't replicate the beat.
And she was kissing him and the wetness of her mouth-and just *knowing* it had
been the mouth spouting those dirty secrets… the fact that she*could* say those
things to him… made him adore her even more so than he ever had.
Her
moans and whimpers were driving him wild, as were his groans doing likewise to
her. She cupped his face and brought his mouth to hers as she pushed the blindfold
off him but he didn't open his eyes. Not quite yet.
His
arms began tugging violently on the bonds. He*had* to touch her- *had* to guide
her hips and let her feel his muscles under her fingers- like she'd said. *Had*
to bury themselves in her hair as he pulled her to him for a violently
passionate deep kiss.
She
knew this. She needed to feel his hands on her body. And as she rode him, her
hands worked steadily to break the ties that bound her lover and when they were
finally free them seemed to devour her body. "Wait," she panted. She
was suddenly burdened by the lack of control- by the lack of freedom.
He
growled when she got up off him. "Just relax," she said.
"Can't.
Kinda gotta come here," he said, pointing to his outrageously red, practically
purple dick.
"Pull
your knees up," she said and he rearranged himself so he could keep his
knees bent. He watched his wife straddle his hips once more, this time with her
back to him, and he guided himself to her again and when she sank down on him, the
new position put an unbelievable amount of pressure on him. He pushed her hair
out of the way and was able to hold her hips and rub her back as he felt her
tits rubbing against his legs as she clutched them.
"Shit,
Babe," he grumbled.
The
position was intriguing for her as well. She still felt the freedom she had
because she couldn't see him and he couldn't 'see' her. And the pressure was amazing
and he was rubbing against her sweet spot differently than he had been and it
was strange and exhilarating to feel his hands 'backwards' on her hips, guiding
her in reverse.
Their
speed increased and she bit down on his knees once he established a rhythm of
routinely hitting her hot spot on every thrust.
"Shit-
I *love* when you're this deep inside me, Marshall," she whimpered.
"It's like… you can't… get far… enough… inside… and all I can feel is you…
just filling me up…"
"Fuck,
keep talkin' like that," he muttered as he ran his hands up her body
again. "Shit-"
"It's
incredible- what you do to me- make me wet- just with words sometimes… feelin'
the base in the car makes me start to pulse- throb a bit for you to be
inside…"
"FUCK,"
he growled and slid his hand around to the front of her to seek out her clit.
He was ready to pop and he wanted her to as well since *she'd* set it up.
"Yes,
Baby, please, please," she panted. "Please…"
Their
release was that of waves crashing on the beach at dawn- strong, tidal- and
they screamed each other's name, breaking the silence of the house completely, and
shaking together as she came and came and he bathed her insides with his hot
sticky fluid.
And
when it was over, he could still feel her body pulsing around him.
"Fuck," he panted and pulled her back against him.
"Can't
move," she whimpered. "Don't wanna."
"Me
neither," he said as he pulled the comforter over them. "So… we're
even then?" He asked, rubbing her stomach softly.
"Guess
so," she shrugged sleepily. "Love you, Marsh,” she murmured as she
drifted off to sleep.
He
kissed her forehead gently and whispered, "I love you too, Kim."
And
he did.
THE END
Well?
Surprised?!
Hugs,
Dru
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