Games 4

"Use Me" she said, her voice calm, almost defiant. She stared at him, pulling back from his hug. She had not said anything else since hello.

"I don't understand...what?"

"I said ‘use me’. We've talked about it. You know I want to. I want you to just let go. Stop the fucking thinking, the holding back. DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME. Just fuck me, or whatever you want to do. I want you too. Really, just do it, please" She looked him in the eye, her gaze not wavering, hopeful, daring him to do it.

They had talked about it, teased each other with fantasies of submission and games that lasted all weekend. He had been thrilled at her suggestions, but he was never secure in believing that someone who looked like her, had her brains would trust him, accept him like that. But now she was here, wanting to be taken. He took a breath, steadying himself mentally. He realized she has reached into him, had pulled his secrets out, accepted them, wanted them.

He took her hand, leading her to the center of the room. He stood behind her, looking, admiring. She waited, still. He reached out, squeezing her ass. He felt her like you do bread at the store, wondering if it’s still soft, good to eat. She made no sound, was like stone. He lifted her skirt hem; the thong nestled in her ass, the fabric disappearing in a secret. The cloth was soft, satin. He ran his fingers down the line, the heat from her body palpable as he closed in on her cleft. He said nothing either, thinking in his mind what he wanted, what he wanted now. He moved quietly, kicking her feet farther apart to open her. The dress she wore was navy, a business cut. She was liked at work, maybe thought of by some as moody, a little repressed.

That image always brought a smile to her face, that THEY could think she was repressed. Her mind swam with dreams of being fucked so often, strangers, friends, co-workers. They took her body, used her, then walked away, her holes running with their fluids. Now she was waiting on him to do it, to start the movements that would allow her to feel the pleasures she craved in submission. She wanted to lose herself in his desires, finding her own needs staring back. With no sounds he unbuttoned the dress, his fingers practiced, sure now as he fell into the moment. It slipped down, a pile of cotton. She wore a bra that matched her thong, blue like her dress.

He pulled the thong up, tight. She licked her lips, the pressure on her clit increasing as he pulled, the fabric taut against her mound. The front was stained like she had been cut as her cream swam out. He reached around, feeling her wetness. He pulled higher. She strained now, on her toes, her hands having gravitated back on their own, crossed at her lower back. He jerked one last time, the cloth now buried between her labia, the lips lewdly splayed. He held her like that, fingers bunching in her hair pulling her to his mouth.

" Mine...all mine. No words unless I say, but I want to hear you cry out. I want to hear you cumming, know I made you. No ‘yes sir’, no saying 'no', we aren’t playing at that. Tonight, now, you exist for me. I will lead you, if you trust me. I promise I won’t hold back. I'll give you what you want, let you inside Me." he hissed this in her ear hotly, his spittle wet on her neck as he tried to control his shaking, his pants now tight, confining.

The bra snapped of, joining the dress on the floor. He pulled her panties down to her knees, but would not let her take them off. He told her to stand like that, not to move as her knees held her underwear like a child being punished. He placed her dressing mirror in front of her. She looked at the image, her hands back, her panties at her knees. He was still dressed. Somehow that made it all seem worse, made her feel sluttier. She wet again, her thighs wet now as she thought this. He held her hair in his left hand, still behind her. His right hand came down on her ass, the sound loud in that silent room. She watched herself be spanked. He was silent intent on her cheeks, how warm they now felt, how pink she looked. She tried to look at him, as he hit her. The blows stung, her eyes watering a little, blurring her vision. Finally they cleared enough for her to see his face. She realized with a start that he was not really paying attention to her, that he was only looking at her as his toy now, wondering what delights he could wring out of her. She came then, her pent up spasms clutching her, her knees weak.

"Good.wonderful.... so good" he said, his other replies a mumble to her, lost in his own fantasies.

He brought his finger to her mouth, pushed it in to wet it, then another. Then another joined. She opened as wide as she could, trying to follow his commands, spitting now to lubricate them. Satisfied he bent her at her waist, the underwear still clinging to her knees. He kept pushing, till she finally had to support herself on her hands, her ass now higher than her head. The first finger slipped into her rectum easily, he stopped only at his knuckle. A few pumps, then two, the pressure a little more. He was humming softly, something she could not make out. She turned her head a little, trying again to catch his eye. He saw this, pushed her head back down with a jerk, jamming the third finger in her ass then, opening her. He pumped her ass slowly but without stopping.

She rode him like that, bent over, her clit like an eraser as it stood out. She wanted to touch herself, but knew he'd knock her over if she lost her balance on one arm only. She realized he did not care, was too intent on fucking her ass to be careful, that he was not looking for her to help him set the pace. Again the feeling of submission hit her, her cunt muscles working again. Now she did fall as she came, his fingers never leaving her asshole, instead pushing in deeper as he held her, like her anus was some kind of handle for him. His grip on her hair got tighter, steadying her. He slipped her down, his fingers now sliding out. He pushed then into her mouth, gagging her a little, fucking her face with his hand. She sucked them, knowing what he had done to her, wanting him to do it again.

She lay there, looking up, her thigh slick still, hips silently pushing up at a phantom inside, an itch that she could not scratch. He smiled, wanting her to do this, to be like an animal in heat. He had always been soft with her till now. He had listened to her stories as she bit his ear, her legs wrapped around his waist. He no longer cared what she wanted, knowing that was exactly it. That was what she wanted, for him to care about his needs this time, not ASK her everything, not coo in her ear that he loved her. This time she was just his slut, a hole for him, a whore, his toy. Each name she said in her mind, each word, caused her to shake, cumming again with no touch.

Roughly he pulled her up again, this time on all fours. Still in front of the mirror he was now naked like her. She was in profile to the mirror. His cock was at her mouth. She did not open, did not beg. If he wanted it she wanted him to take it. He pushed again, the head touching her closed lips. He pushed deeper, her mouth opening as he increased the depth. Her tongue moved slowly under, milking him. She kept her hands on the floor, her jaw working to draw him in all the way. She could not keep the saliva in, not with her mouth stuffed full. Smiling as she watched in the mirror, it dripped out. She loved to be so shameless, the image so sleazy, so unlike her profile to her peers. At first just a trickle, then more, till her chin shone wet and the floor under her was a pool of her own spit, his cock pistoning in, out, in, out. He grunted his rhythm, trying to open her throat.

His hips pushed her nose into his pubic hair, his hands held the back of her head. She struggled for breath when he did this. He noticed, kept holding her longer, closer. Each suck now became a gasp of air as he pulled back. The deprivation made her mind swim, the buzzing signaling coming unconsciousness. Deep again, deep in her mouth. She did not fight, did not panic. Into her throat again, her face pressed to his belly. She was cumming, her eyes no longer seeing. She heard singing, laughter as she blacked out then, her head slack as she passed out. He cradled her head to prevent the fall. She lay face up now, her smile like a child's as Christmas as she drifted back into him, back to this moment. She was still cumming as she regained her awareness.

He was next to her head, his fist going up and down the still wet shaft, watching her as she waited for him. He jacked himself faster, still looking at her, like his own prize, her smile the final starburst as he came. He cupped his hand, the semen filling it. As always he was shocked at the heat of his own fluid. Without asking he held it below her lips, watched her tongue dip down red, slip back into her mouth white, then repeat again and again. She pursed her lips, the last drops gone now, her tongue flat as she cleaned him.

He stood over her prone body then, his mind still jumping in his head. What next? what did he want? No immediate needs pushed to the front, they seemed to all flood him at once. He bent down, kissed her mouth for the first time that day, tasted himself in her breath. He pulled her closer and closer, wondering if he could simply open up, swallow her. Smiling behind his kiss she wondered the same thing, his hand filling her cunt again as she felt the stiffening cock on her thigh, pushing inside to find where she was at now, what he could mine from her heart.