Authors: Frances Stockton
Ethan rocked harder, faster, squeezing her breasts tighter,
harsher.
Hot liquid ran down between her cleavage, Ethan came, was
still coming as he reared back to stroke his cock so violently that she almost
cringed. Warm creamy cum drizzled over her breasts, his face was beautiful
while he milked himself.
Excitement rippled through her from head to toe, centering
deep in her core. Whoa, she came because Ethan did!
Guessing he’d rub his jizz into her skin, she waited, but
Ethan hugged her carefully and removed himself from the table. “That was
beautiful. You are the most amazing woman. Thank me for letting you come.”
“Thank you, Master.”
“Very good, now for your next orgasm, sub,” he said, once
again checking to see that her wrists, ankles and shoulders weren’t sore or
needlessly strained. When he seemed pleased, he grinned wide.
Dear god, she didn’t think she could survive whatever
happened next. But she would. She would survive and love it.
Ethan didn’t remove his mask, but he didn’t hide his cock
with the codpiece either. Morgan watched him closely, searching for a sign of
mercy or freedom. In all actuality, she didn’t want freedom. Not from this, not
from him.
Once again he reached out to stroke her face. His touch was
familiar and sweet, gentle and unhurried. As he’d done with the feather whip,
he traced the shape of her face, the arch of her cheekbones, even her lips and
chin and throat.
He used only his right hand. His left was placed on the
table near her shoulder.
“Are you still afraid?” he asked.
“No.” She wasn’t. She’d forgotten about being nervous or
afraid or anything negative.
Ethan smiled, his gray gaze burning behind his mask. The
candles burning beside the table cast a seductive glow over his face, despite
the hood casting some shadows.
“For that, you’ve earned yourself a treat.”
“What do you mean?”
He shook his head. Morgan watched helplessly when he moved
to the head of the table, then lost sight of him. He hadn’t gone far. But she
couldn’t tell what was going on. A door opened and closed. Ethan returned in an
instant.
“Take a taste,” he offered, presenting her with a
humongous…cherry and white swirled cock-shaped frozen pop.
She’d prefer to lick Ethan’s cock right now. But since he
was offering a treat, she’d take it.
Ethan held the pop out for her. Imagining what she’d like to
do to him, Morgan licked the smooth crown. She kept licking, enjoying the
coolness and taste of cherries and cream dripping into her mouth.
Swallowing the juices, she wrapped her mouth around the
frozen cock as Ethan fed her more of the length. Finding the thickness and
length very similar to Ethan’s penis, she suckled and suckled, taking it as
deep as he gave it to her.
The rhythmic thrusting of his hand was as delicious as a
mouth fuck. Even better, it nourished her, quenched her thirst. He withdrew it,
damn him, but not far. He shifted it around so that she licked along the thick
shaft, going all around, licking wherever it melted.
“Enough,” he declared, taking the cock away to, holy cow,
lick it himself.
It was wildly, wickedly erotic to watch Ethan suck on the
cocksicle. A flood of arousal sluiced through her, thrilling her by the
decadence of watching him. He was not daunted or shy about such a thing.
“More, feed me more, please, Master,” she pled.
“I’ll give you more,” he promised, only she wasn’t sure he
intended to feed it to her.
Morgan guessed right. Ethan teased her mouth with the tip of
the pop, intentionally making her salivate for it. Just when she thought he’d
let her deep-throat the damnably delicious cock, he swept it away, dragging it
down her jaw and throat.
“Sticky,” she murmured.
“Hmm, yes,” he agreed, bending low to lick the juices
running down her throat.
The chill of the pop and warmth of his breath and tongue
delighted her senses. Oh that was nice, so nice.
Regardless of the cum-splatters still on her tits, he ran
the pop all over her, cooling her nipples.
She was going to be a sticky mess when he was done.
Not that she cared. As long as he kept running the treat all
over her breasts, she was happy, thrilled. Cold as it was, it thrilled her,
especially when he lapped up the juices with his hot tongue.
Ethan wasn’t intimidated by the spots of jizz. He cleaned
her up, lick by lick. Aware of how tasty that ice-pop had been, she almost
envied him.
Ice swept down her sternum, skipping the belt and aiming
right for her navel. Sucking in a breath, Morgan took it, loving the way Ethan
twirled the frozen treat around. Briefly, he set the cock aside, bent low at
his waist and licked her bellybutton clean.
“Ohmigod, ohmigod,” she muttered, absolutely awed by his
undivided attention on such a small indent of her body.
He kept going lower, kept using that cocksicle and his
tongue to his seductive advantage. Lost in the warring sensations of wet heat
and chilly cock, Morgan felt her eyes roll back, heard herself cry out until
she was hoarse.
Another pause, but Morgan couldn’t look, couldn’t even try.
She heard Ethan go into one of his drawers-of-tricks. A crunch of foil
followed.
“You taste better than a cherry pop in the backseat of a
car,” he complimented, his Bostonian accent thick and deep.
Morgan giggled at that. “That’s quite a compliment, although
I’d love to know how many times you had cherry pops in the backseat of your
cah.”
Intentionally switching her “r” to an “h” in “car” to mimic
Ethan, she laughed louder. That was until Ethan tickled her side with the damn
cherry pop!
“Whoa! That’s cold.”
“Isn’t it though,” he said, continuing to tickle her with
the thing and finding her weakness.
“Please, stop, mercy!” Unable to escape his devilish
tickling, Morgan tossed her head, tried to bite her lip, anything.
Nothing saved her, nothing, and Ethan, dammit, had no pity
on her plight that only got worse because he’d moved to the bottom of the
table.
“Ethan?” she called out.
“Shh, I’m busy,” he answered.
“What are you doing?”
Her answer came a second later as something cool, slick and
hard slid down her vulva and penetrated her pussy on a deliberately slow
thrust!
“Ohmigod! Oh, oh Ethan, you fucker!” Amazingly, she loved
the way it felt to be taken in such an unexpected fashion.
“Complaining, sub? Should I stop?”
“If you stop, I might hurt you when I’m off this damn table.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Ethan pushed the cock farther into her, moving it in
delicate little circles, pushing it in deeper. Her first thought was that the
pop should be too cold to take inside her body.
But it didn’t hurt or burn sensitive tissue at all. It
felt…divine, decadent, incredibly wonderful and blessedly cool, easing soreness
from the constant stimulation from clamps.
“It’ll melt in me,” she uttered.
“I’d never allow that to happen,” he promised, continuing
his gentle ravishment. “I put a condom and lube on it and made sure it wasn’t
too hard and cold for you to take this way.”
The cocksicle had rapidly become pliable and slushy, her
body heat causing the dildo to feel more realistic. And, oh wow, it was amazing
to be fucked this way.
Ethan must have sensed when she totally relaxed and accepted
the dildo because he began to give it to her hard and fast. Inevitably, the
cock melted faster than Morgan wanted. The next thing she knew, Ethan tossed it
aside, sat down on his barstool and camped out between her legs.
At some point, he must have removed the clitoris-clamp, but
the spreader remained. She was still so open and suddenly feeling empty again.
Ethan filled her up with his hot, slick tongue.
The clamps parting her vaginal lips bit a little more, yet
Morgan loved the feel of Ethan’s tongue spearing into her body, licking her
out, eating up her natural juices and warming her from the inside out.
Finally, he lifted his head and honed in on her pulsing,
neglected clit. With a slowness that melted her heart, he tongued her nubbin,
suckling so sweetly that Morgan was catapulted into a climax, sweeping her away
on a rush of intense release.
“Oh god,” she whispered when she realized what she’d done.
“I came without permission.”
Ethan drew back. “You did. I’ll forgive you, once.”
“Thank you.”
“If you tell me who owns your pussy and orgasms.”
“You do, Master.” There was no other man for Morgan.
“That’s my sub, so sweet and agreeable.”
“Not always.”
“Look at the fun we get into as a result,” he said.
She couldn’t argue with his logic. “Master? When will you
fuck me?”
“I have been fucking you, sub.”
“With your cock,” she added.
“I did, albeit a frozen version.”
“Say that again, please.”
“The cherry creamsicle was made in a mold I’d designed of my
dick. That’s how I know exactly how long and thick it is.”
“You did measure your penis!”
“Yes, to make toys and treats such as this that I hope
you’ll be able to use when you want to get yourself off. Better yet, now we
know that toys used by me or made by me aren’t affected by psychometry.”
“Is this what you’ve been doing with your free time over the
last seven months?”
Ethan laughed. “Yeah, and a whole lot of masturbating.”
“How long before we met did you have a girlfriend?”
“Couple months. It doesn’t matter, honey. Whatever
relationships I had before you ended the first time I walked into your shop. I
knew then and there that I had to have the woman hiding behind her hair.”
“I don’t hide anymore.”
“There’s no reason you should hide. You’re beautiful and
you’re mine.”
“I can’t promise not to be shy with others, Ethan.”
“That’s okay. I’ll be with you. Look how open and sweet you
are with your friends. Look at what you did at Ryan and Alex’s apartment
today.”
Morgan blushed hotly. “No. Look at what we did together. I
could never have stayed if you weren’t with me.”
“Good to know,” he replied.
“Can I get off the table now?”
There was silence, then a maddening, wicked laugh. “Not yet,
sub. Your Master is not done pleasuring you.”
“What about discipline?”
“That too,” he answered. Oh dear, now what?
Through it all, Morgan managed to hold the stress ball.
She’d squeezed it a time or two, but didn’t feel panicked. It was a relief to
know she could slow or stop Ethan simply by dropping the ball.
Squeezing it once more, she waited for Ethan to remount the
table. She loved looking up at him, knowing he was free to pleasure her. Being
bound gave her a sense of freedom she’d never expected.
In his position, he looked handsome, strong and heroic. With
her head still spinning from post-orgasmic bliss and the thrilling constant
current of desire radiating beneath her skin, Morgan came back to reality when
she noticed Ethan was working his cock to full-mast.
Focusing on the thick, veined length, she drooled. She
wanted it so damn bad. Rather than give to her, he teased her more by wanking
himself until he placed a flexible ring at the base of his shaft, a cock ring.
She’d have asked why since Ethan was wonderfully erect, but
he proved how aware of her thoughts he was by saying, “I don’t want to come too
quickly next time. This’ll help.”
“You didn’t have to explain anything.”
“I could see you watching my cock. You want it, don’t you,
beautiful?”
“You know I do.”
Ethan grinned, arching his brow. “I think you’re going to
like this part.”
“I like it all.”
“Sweet,” he said, maneuvering himself down the table.
From somewhere she couldn’t see, he unbuckled the belt
around her abdomen, then produced a small pillow to prop up her butt.
“Can you move?” he asked.
Morgan lifted her hips. “Yes, Master.”
With that, he lay over her, letting her absorb his strength
and body heat. His erection slid over her skin, her bonds, slipping downward in
slow methodical inches. The metal cuffs and chains were warmed now, but she
feared he’d do damage to himself if he humped the thick metal links.
When he remained unharmed, she was certain Ethan would take
her soon. His cock head was there, right between the handcuff framing her
entrance. Except he halted, holding his breath, tossing his head.
“Holy hell, Morgan, your pussy is so fucking hot! It’s all I
can do not to fuck you.”
“Fuck me, fuck me,” she cried out, desperate for him.
With gentleness she didn’t expect, he entered her. As he
penetrated, she became aware that the pinch of clamps was gone. “You took the
spreader off.”
“Um-hmm, the handcuff is enough,” he said, not bothering to
explain why or how he’d done that without her knowing.
Her only guess was that he’d removed the spreader after he’d
fucked her with the condom-covered creamsicle. It really ceased to matter. All
she cared about was the fact that Ethan’s cock was now buried in her pussy!
“Oh thank you, Master, thank you,” she murmured, deliriously
happy to be fucked.
Ethan leaned backward, his cock in place as he reached over
and released the cuffs at her ankles one at a time. Penetrating even deeper, he
began powering into her, thrusting so darned hard that Morgan tried in vain to
thrust back and keep up.
“Just take it, honey. Take my cock and wait for it,” he told
her.
“For what?”
She didn’t expect an answer this time. He showed her by
fucking her anew. Way better than a cocksicle, his penis felt incredibly hard
and much bigger than ever due to the cock ring controlling when he’d let
himself come.
Ethan paused in mid-thrust, holding himself as deep as he
could. He grabbed something he must have placed on the table when Morgan wasn’t
looking. Another match struck.