My body ached in places I didn't know I had. My ass felt battered and bruised. And you sat there, cradling me tenderly against your chest speaking of blow jobs. Had I been doing them wrong for the past 10 years? I took a slow, cleansing breath, unsure of what to say. What DID one say when told by their husband—their Master, that they must learn how to give a blow job correctly? I said the only thing I could, "Yes Sir."
Your hand rubbed my scalp in a way that I have always loved, and a soft kiss was pressed to my forehead. "Good Girl," you told me.
I sighed against you. Those two little words did perplexing things to me. I melted against you, happy to please you, while a part of me screamed, "Are you insane? Why are you doing this?? Why are you bending your will to his so readily?" The simple answer was because it made me happy. I wanted this. I needed this. My world now made sense.
"You, my darling," you continued in your smooth, sexy voice, "will be required to give me a blow job whenever I request one."
"Yes Sir."
"Good Girl. It will be at any time, and can be anywhere. Do you understand?"
"Yes Sir." That gave me a slight trepidation—the anytime, anywhere...
"I am going to show you how I want my blow jobs to be, but I can feel your tension. Does this make you nervous, my girl?"
"Yes Sir, it does."
"It won't. I promise you that. In time you will have no hesitation. Do you trust me," you ask, holding my face still to look me in the eye.
"Yes Sir," I whispered, lost in the blue of your eyes.
"Good girl. Let's do something to ease that tension, shall we?" You eased me up so that I was sitting taller in your lap. I winced only a little as the pressure shifted on my sore cheeks. "Kiss me."
"How shall I kiss you, Sir?"
You smiled at me, a little amused, a little tender. "Just kiss me how you would like to be kissed right now."
Slowly, cautiously, I pressed my lips to yours, enjoying their fullness, soft and pliant under mine. I let that kiss wash over me, allowing myself to loosen, moaning as your tongue danced around mine. I wanted more than your tongue inside me.
Your fingers began to slowly tickle my sides, playing softly with my curves before settling to explore my breasts. Your fingers found my nipple and gave it a quick tug before moving on. I moaned against your mouth again, this time in frustration. I wanted your hands to pull my nipples, to pinch them. I wanted your mouth on them, sucking them hard.