Baby and the Stranger

I spent the next few weeks thinking about her. The stranger. Her silky voice tugged at the edges of my thoughts. Her gentle caresses followed me into my dreams.

I was in lust with her.

She planted some kind of seed inside me. One whose plant wove around every thought I had. It was like I had tried meth for the first time: she consumed me. I thought about her all the time. I daydreamed about our encounter and I brought her up in the bedroom. Every orgasm I shared with my Master, I craved to share with her. I couldn't shake her off.

And, yet. I had no idea what her name was. Hell, I didn't know what she looked like.

She was a feeling, ever present. She was a sensation I craved. A drug. A hard, hard drug that I craved inside me.

I sighed. My wetness was incredibly palpable in my panties.

"Master," I called out. My bare feet padded across the hallway tiles. "I need you," I announced.

"Over here," he replied from the kitchen.

I trotted in with a wide smile. I held my eyes open a little wider than usual, trying way too hard to look innocent.

He glanced up from his snack of crackers and cheese. A smile melted his sleepy, I'm-reading face into one of playfulness. He already knew I was up to something.

It wasn't really that hard to tell. I only called him "Master" when I wanted to fuck. Just like he only called me "baby" when we were actively playing together.

"Hey there, baby," he stood and wrapped his hands around my waist. "I heard you needed something."

"I need you, I need you right now. God, I'm so horny, Master," I said the words as if I were talking about the weather. My head was at a downward tilt to make my eyes look more alluring.

He lifted me by my hips, helping me onto the kitchen counter. I wrapped my legs around his torso, tight like a hug.

"You've been a lot hornier lately," he remarked, "For a while now." He pretended to think, "You know, it started when I let my friend screw you."

I blushed. "Have I?"

He grabbed my chin between his thumb and forefinger, the way he knew I liked. "Does my bitch like getting fucked by other bitches?"

I bit my lip. My heart was pounding. "Uh, I might actually be super into it."

He chuckled, raising a brow. "Might?" He let go of my face, instead knotting his hand into my ponytail. Our lips met in a soft, pillowy kiss.

He pulled my head back, exposing my throat. He nibbled the side of my neck. Kisses overlapped with licking tongue.

"Well, I suppose I could arrange for her to come back to see you," he whispered. His breath tickled my earlobe.

"Will you?"

"Only because I love to watch you get fucked." He kissed the tip of my nose, an amused twinkle in his eyes. "But I'm telling her about how much of a handful you've been these past few weeks."

"Aw, I thought you liked how horny I've been," I teased. I stuck the tip of my tongue out.

"Careful, or I might bite that off."

"Promise?"

He kissed me. Our tongues danced between our soft bites, staying close together like they were tangoing. His lips were firm. His kiss held urgency.

"I'm going to love watching her fuck you. It's so hot-the way you look when someone is going down on you."

"Yeah?" I giggled. I tugged his shirt over his head. "What a coincidence. I also think it's hot when people go down on me."

He lifted my skirt, exposing my lace panties. There was a damn spot over my pussy. "You're so wet, baby." He moaned. His cock strained against his pants. "And I'm not even inside you yet."

"I really liked when she fucked me," I admitted.

"What a coincidence! I also really liked when she fucked you," he winked.

He slid the straps of my tank top off my shoulders. He pushed the pesky thing down under my boobs. Since I wasn't wearing a bra, my tits stood perky and erect in the open.

"How do you want to be fucked?" he asked.

"Take me however you want me."

He lifted me off the counter and spun me around. His cock pressed into my ass firmly. My hips pressed into the kitchen counter.

I moved his abandoned cheese and crackers from in front of me. I braced myself with flattened palms against the marble counter.

He slid my panties off my ass. They fell around my ankles in a little heap. He left my skirt and tank top.

I felt his jeans on my bare ass. He unzipped them slowly, eliciting an impatient sigh from me.

He grabbed my throat. He didn't squeeze. He touched me there to let me know he could squeeze my throat. He knew all the little things that turned me on. Because I had explicitly told him what they were.

I arched my back. My ass pressed against his erect cock.

He growled in my ear. "Impatient, are we?" His bare cock rested on my lower back. He stuck two fingers inside me, only to remove them immediately. He put them in my mouth.

I sucked my fluid off each finger like they were cocks. My tongue lavashed them. I moaned around them, so turned on that it hurt.

"What do you think, baby? Do you taste like you're turned on enough? Or should I keep teasing you?"

"No, no." I protested, "Please fuck me. I need you to fuck me."

He put the tip of his cock against my lips. He held the base to keep it steady, "You go ahead and start."

"Yes, Master," I agreed readily. I pushed myself back into him. He slid inside easily, my pussy was so dripping wet.

I gasped. God, he felt so good. My pussy throbbed around his cock. I bounced my ass on him while I panted in pleasure. My boobs swung with my motion. It hurt just enough to turn me on further.

I rammed myself into his cock. I moved quickly, firmly. His hips basically slapped my ass with every pump I gave.

"Desperate whore," he said like it was praise.

I laughed, and continued to slap my ass on his cock. I buried my face in my hands, "Master, I-I'm close."

"Already?" he teased. "You come so easily for me."

"What can I say? You own my pussy," I moaned.

He pushed me firmly against the counter, then forced me to bend over it. He held me there by my hair.. "Damn right I do."

He pulled all the way out. He laughed diabolically, rubbing the tip against my clit.

I squirmed. "Master, please!" I pleaded, "Please."

"Please, what?" he asked, continuing to rub his sensitive head against my sensitive bud.

"You're being mean," I protested through a moan. "I want you to fuck me."

"Beg for it," he commanded, "I want to hear you beg for me."

I blushed, despite having done this a thousand times before. He knew how to drive me crazy. He relished it.

"Come on, baby," he cooed, "Don't be shy. I want to hear you beg, that's all."

I was a babbling, sputtering mess. He was intentionally flustering me. "Master, please. I might just explode from horniness if you don't finish me off. I want you to fuck me, please please fuck me, please! I can hardly think I'm so wound up. I need to come, I need you to make me come, please!"

"Is that what you want? My raw cock?"

"Yes!" I agreed. I felt dizzy.

He slammed himself into my pussy, as deep as he could go.

I yelped in surprise and pleasure. My moan was a scream. He fucked me thoroughly. He gave me long thrusts, from base to almost sliding out. He kept a fast pace.

"God, baby. Your pussy is so wet." he panted out, "It's going to feel so good to creampie you."

That was it. That was what sent me over the edge. I gasped and came. My body spasmed around his cock as he continued to rail me through my entire orgasm. I groaned loudly, voice vibrating from how rough he was being.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he said. I felt his load shoot off inside me. His cock spasmed in time with the throb of my pulse.

He kept himself inside me after he finished. I thought it was the most intimate part of our love. The lingering.

He peppered my back in kisses. I pushed myself up and leaned back into him. He held me in a light embrace, fingers trailing along my skin. "You're ovulating today?" he asked.

"Yeah," I beamed. "With any luck, this will be it."

He laid a palm against my belly, right where our first baby would soon grow. "It might not happen immediately," he warned. Always a realist.

"I can dream," I reminded him. I turned over my shoulder to kiss him. It was a sweet, love-filled kiss.

"Ready?" he asked. He waited until I nodded to pull out. A small flood of our mixed come followed.

"Not it," I laughed, quickly retreating to go lay down in bed before I lost too many of my husband's soldiers.

"You're a brat," he called after me, lovingly.