Still I strain to look at him, twisting to see him over my shoulder and loving the flush of pink on his razor cheekbones as he masturbates furiously. It takes but a moment or two for him to come heavily, his semen spurting and landing warm on my as yet unpunished bottom.
"Oh God... oh God, you're devil woman," he pants as he finishes, his chest heaving and his beautiful eyes almost rolling up in his head, "What you do to me... it's... it's amazing."
The sight of him amazes me. He's so wonderful, so wild, so revealed to me. I'm almost beyond sex, but at the same time drenched in it. I reach beneath myself, find my clit and rub it furiously.
But Sebastian is astonishing, he recovers in an instant, pitching forward, almost covering me with his own body while he too fishes beneath me, knocks my own hand away and starts rubbing me. He's all over the place; he must be still fazed by his orgasm. But still he manages to work me just how I like it, hard and fast and rough, almost hammering my clit with his fingertip.
I come immediately, I'm so excited. I thrash hard, flailing about clutching at him where I can reach him, behind me. His sticky cock is jammed against my thigh as I shout his name, soaring, dying... loving.
*** *** ***
Afterwards, while I'm still in a dazed glow, he finally does spank me, warming my buttocks thoroughly and efficiently in the time honored way, and making me squeal even though I barely have a voice.
"Oh my darling," he murmurs, a moment or two later, sliding his hand beneath my belly to raise me up so he can fuck me.
When he pushes into me, my tears start to flow, but it's not from the pain. I'm crying with happiness, and so is he. We're in pieces with love.
"I think it's time," he says a few minutes after our mutual climax, while we're lying like spoons and he's warming his hard, flat belly against the heat in my sticky, pulsating bottom.
"Time for what?" My brain isn't really working properly. What is he talking about? Have I missed something somewhere?
"For us to take the next step."
My heart thuds hard. Does he mean what I think he means, or is it just some new level of refinement in the way we play our games together?
"Megan? Are you listening?" He kisses the back of my neck and I realize I've been hesitating.
"Yes... but I'm not sure what you mean." I am sure, actually. I know, suddenly in my heart, that it
is
what I think it is.
"Oh, I think you do..." His arm tightens around me. His voice sounds just a little bit tense, as if there's a crack in his confidence, a fear of my answer. "But it'll mean you giving up all hope of having a chance with your guy from the telly, or all those other men you fantasize about."
Despite the way he's holding me, I turn in his arms, not even wincing when my throbbing bottom plagues me. "They're only daydreams, Seb. The only man I really want to spank me is you... You know that." I touch his face, and kiss him lightly to eradicate any possible doubt. "You're a cruel brute sometimes, with a heavy hand, but I can't help but love you."
He laughs. He knows I'm joking and the only cruelty he wields is beautiful to me.
"And you're willful and defiant and sometimes you're a terrible submissive, but I can't help but love you too." He's joking too, I know that. Except for the very last element...
"Very well then, lover boy, it
is
time. If that next stage of yours is the one I'm thinking of too."
"Yes! Yes, it is!" he growls happily in my ear, and grabs me hard and close. I barely notice my twinges of pain as he kisses me like fury.
It's time for my friend and master to become my husband too.
###
The Roses in Your Cheeks
"But it's freezing outside... Are you sure you want to go out for a walk?"
Sebastian gives me one of his looks, his very significant looks, as he folds up his newspaper in the sitting room of the Rook's Nest Inn, where we're staying for a bit of a mini break. We haven't been away for quite a while. The last time was our luscious honeymoon in the Caribbean, but that feels like a lifetime ago now. That's the trouble when you get promotion at work. It becomes harder than ever to take a holiday when you want to.
"Absolutely," he says briskly, unwinding his tall lean frame from the chintz armchair. Even now we're so familiar with each other, I still almost gasp at the instant pang of lust. He's so strong, so powerful, and so dominant. "It'll put some roses in your cheeks, my love. You're looking a bit peaky... you could do with the fresh air." With no further ado he reaches for my hand and leads me out of the room, and away from the cheerful fire I was enjoying.
Not that I don't expect to enjoy myself elsewhere.
Roses in your cheeks
.
With Sebastian, that doesn't mean my face.
The Rook's Nest Inn is a lovely old place, quaint and pretty and surprisingly well appointed for so small an establishment so off the beaten track. But alas, the way it's been renovated to provide for guest bedrooms and en suites, some of the walls are terribly thin. So much so that it's easy to hear the sex lives of the guests staying next door to us; and for them to hear us when we're at it.
So, no fierce and extended spanking sessions with me moaning and wailing and blubbering. No telltale "whack" of the slipper, the slapper or the cane.
And it's killing us. No wonder Sebastian wants to get out for a while. I can see the tension and the fire in him as he strides towards the staircase in reception, and feel it as he hustles me up the stairs ahead of him. His hands settle on my bottom to hurry me upwards, and I have to bite my lip, I feel so tense and so bloody yearning too.
It's not natural for me to go for more than a couple of days without those roses in my cheeks.
We scurry about our room, getting our things together. I desperately want Sebastian's hands on me, whether to punish or to pleasure, but I can hear our neighbors fussing next door, and if he and I start anything we're bound to be overheard.
When I slip into the bathroom to check my face and hair, I'm almost shaking. Almost fainting with lust. I've already got a bit of pink in my cheeks, and when I unfasten my jeans and slip my hand into my panties, I'm streaming wet. Sebastian can do that to me with just hints, and looks, and a lift of one elegant dark eyebrow.
I can't wait to bend over and yield my bottom to his hand.
When I leave the bathroom, he's waiting for me, looking impatient and already wearing his long, dark Belstaff overcoat. He springs up from the armchair as I reach for my own coat, and stays my hand.
"Just a minute... Let's make this walk a bit more interesting, shall we?"
Isn't it going to be interesting enough already, if he has in mind what I think he has in mind? What I pray he has in mind, regardless of the cold?
Oh... oh... I think it's the sex toys again.
"Sit down in the chair. Pull down your jeans and panties," he instructs me. His voice sounds crisp and businesslike, but his silver blue eyes are on fire. As I comply, shaking, he fishes in the pocket of his coat and draws out an item.
A confection of balls and silk cord.
It seems incongruous, in the man who is my master, but he sinks gracefully down and kneels beside where I'm sitting. There's nothing subservient about it though. He's simply down there for better access. Without so much as a by your leave, he rummages in my fleece and sticks a finger rudely inside me.
"Well, I thought we might need lube, but you seem to be saturated, dearest," he observes, then shoves in another finger. I groan. I can't help myself, and he murmurs, "Hush! The neighbors..."
And he's right. They're moving about in there, arguing by the sound of it. I don't care what they're up to or whether they hear me. I only stay quiet because Sebastian compels it. Riding his hand, I bite my lips and reach down to try and rub my clit, fingers close to his.
"Uh oh," he says quietly, shaking his dark curly head. "No pleasure for you just yet, naughty girl."
Withdrawing his fingers abruptly, he pushes them into my mouth now, and I lick them clean, loving my own foxy flavor. Then he whips out a snowy handkerchief to dry them... and sets about me again with the objects from his pocket which he'd placed to one side.
"Right. You know the drill. Knees apart, ankles together. Push up. Open yourself wide."
Breathing heavily I obey him, lifting my hips as best I can, and displaying my pussy.
Sebastian seems to consider lube again, but after a moment, he just presses the first of a pair of Chinese love balls against my entrance and shoves it into me without pause or mercy. It's quite a big one, quite a stretch, and my fingernails gouge the chair arm as he pushes it home, following up immediately and just as uncompromisingly with the second.
I'm stuffed. Beleaguered. Filled up. Bulging. How on earth will I be able to walk, feeling like this?
I gasp, hardly able to contain myself, but he gives me a firm look and I clamp my teeth together. I suppose I should be grateful that he hasn't put a plug in my bottom too, but the moment I think of that the perverse side of me wishes he had!
"Come on, let's go for that walk," he says briskly hauling me out of my chair and reaching for my coat. I'm barely on my feet before I'm panting hard, wracked with sensation as the balls roll and rock. "Hurry up, Megan... Let's get out of here," he admonishes, just as if there's absolutely nothing out of the ordinary and we're simply doing what most couples staying at a nice country inn do; which is, going out for a simple, pleasant walk.
He helps me into my coat and scarf like a devoted valet assisting his exalted employer. He treats me like cut glass, but all the time he's hiding a smirk at the thought of what's going on inside me. The way the balls roll and tilt makes me hot, and all of a flutter. I doubt if I'll feel the cold with all this heat on the boil.
Descending the stairs has me gasping. I try to walk as if on eggshells, and keep my face straight. Sebastian is all smiles. He thinks it hilarious. When we stroll through the lobby, he passes the time of day with the old ladies staying here. They think he's adorable, because he's good mannered and beautifully handsome with his black hair and his gleaming eyes. They seem to think he's an angel, a Botticelli angel. They'd probably have apoplexy if they knew what sexy perverted devil he really is.
The walk up the hillside path is pure hell. Sebastian strides out, holding me tightly by the hand, and makes me hurry after him. The balls roll and jiggle inside me, tugging and rocking against nerve endings, creating an agony of pleasure that plagues me all the more because I know there'll be another agony on the horizon. Well, perhaps not agony, but a ferment of heat and torment in my buttocks.
I'll burn, oh yes I'll burn, with fires both without and within.
Sebastian is in a rush. Having to contain himself in our very proper little country hotel has been driving him crazy. Not being able to make me moan and squeal, not being able to rock the bedstead as he fucks me to oblivion has been as frustrating for him as not having sex at all.
We've had to fuck on the floor, to keep things quiet, although it's probably not a good thing for my tormented body to think about that right now. He's gagged me so he could plague me with pleasure. He's plowed me furiously, biting his own lips to keep in his grunts and moans.
"There, what did I tell you? The fresh air has brought roses to your cheeks," he says triumphantly as we reach the top of the hill, and he stops to give me a passionate kiss. It's very chilly out and we haven't seen anyone on the path. Sebastian takes advantage of that flip open my coat as clasp my crotch through my jeans. The pressure makes me pant and make the most uncouth noise, not to mention almost helplessly climax.
Almost...
I wriggle in his grip, trying to reach the pinnacle. My clit trembles, and my sex is awash with silky arousal.
"Naughty, naughty... you haven't earned that yet." He kisses me hard again, plunging his tongue in my mouth, subduing me. I wish he'd put his hand inside my knickers and stroke me, but I know I've got to pay my dues yet.
But where will he do the deed? Where will he punish me, out here, in the cold? There's still nobody about, but we're still out in public.
Sebastian's kisses are intoxicating. He's supremely good at it, as he is with everything else. Even if I didn't have a set of Chinese love balls inside me, and his strong hand clutching my pussy, I'd still be swooning from what he does with his nimble tongue and lips. Although I'm probably not supposed to, I reach up and cradle his beloved head in my hands, digging my fingers deep into his silky black curls.
He makes a low, admonishing sound in his throat, but goes on kissing; jabbing at my tongue with his own, then twirling the tip of his tongue around, tasting and teasing.
"What do you want?" he demands when our mouths break apart, "Tell me what you want... and I'll tell you what you can have." So stern. So thrilling.
"I want to come," I gasp.
"Just that?"
"I... I want to please you." It's true. I'd do anything for him, and endure any of his torments and games. Mainly because I know that in our real life, outside of this fantasy world we create for ourselves, he'd do anything on earth to make me happy.