Halloween Delight

Chapter 01: Tricking

We we're lying in bed when it started, Enjoying those fleeting delicious minutes afterwards when the universe itself is at harmony, and the concerns of an hour ago seem as distant as from the now, as the night sky seemed from the bed. It would vanish all too soon as we both knew, but for the moment, that was the concern of tomorrow, and we both sought nothing more than the ebbing passion, good company, and warm embrace we shared. In short, it was past time for me to say something stupid and screw it up.

Such is the lot in life of men. Really, we all have a sixth sense for when things are going too well.. but that's a topic for another time. Needless to say time, mine in particular, was almost up. It was with utter innocence I remarked at my, shaggy, god-awful civilian hair, was getting to be so long and fluffy that I was coming to resemble her small dog. Aptly, or so I think anyway, Named Peanut, the dog is one of those breeds that remind you of inflatable furniture, without all the fluff there is remarkably little substance to the thing.

At any rate, my hair had grown out to nearly two inches, and true to its uncooperative nature, it believed it belonged on a hero from Dragon Ball Z and stood straight up without the coaxing of gel, or any other prodding. She thought it was cute. I thought it was time to get a fresh razor blade, and shave it off again. None the less, she teased me, asking if she needed to buy me a chicken suit too.

Don't ask me why, the dog was dressed as a chicken for Halloween. Perhaps, I thought, it had something to do with the dogs size. Never one for a snappy come back, I rattled off that if she did, I was going to get her a cow costume. See, I knew my time was waning, She rolled away from me, and I rolled my eyes as I was faced with her back. For a brief moment the notion ran through my head that if she was going to roll and lay like that presenting such a target.... Then my head stepped in, and reminded me, tempting as the idea was, these were not the circumstances for such a bold move on my part. Something more subtle was required.

I leaned up up onto my elbow, and my other arm reached over her. MY chest twisted, and snaking arm made it around her ribs, hand sliding between her and the mattress. "It's not a matter of resemblance," I began, while retracting my muscles, and dragging her across the fabric. "So much as a matter of capabilities," Her back was pressed up against my chest now, I confess, I loved the way I could strong arm her around. Speaking of arms, mine had slipped up over her ribs and was firmly, forcefully even, massaging her breast. Pressing hard against it, and well on my way to pressing hard against her again, I knew how.. ungentle she liked my affections to be at times.

Now being such a time was anyone's guess, but I was already committed. My other arm snaked up, putting my bicep between her neck and the pillow as my hand came down to rest on her other breast. She hadn't complained about the force of my touch, and was wiggling a bit in anticipation, so I began to grow more bold, and more forceful. Had there been an observer there, they might have thought I was trying to use my hands to push her breasts into her rib cage, despite the physical impossibility of such. Suffice to say, gentle was not on my agenda.

I kept at this for several minutes, whispering softly into her ear, "I'll stop, when you give in." But that was hardly enough to tickle her neck with my warm moist breast, so I went on a bit more, "If your good, maybe.. Maybe... then I'll give you what you want." It was pure bluff, but I began to nibble on her neck, trying to distract myself from my own wants as I focused overmuch on how much pressure to use, when to bite gently, and things of that nature.

Either it worked, or she knew how desperate I was, It was impossible to tell which. She moaned out that She'd wear whatever I wanted this season, and I grinned while thinking to myself, "Gotcha!" My upper arm slipped lower and pushed her legs apart. My fingers found her, and rubbed. She was a bit wetter than I expected, but far be it for me to complain. My fingers reached a bit further, and found me. I held my shaft against her, keeping my head in my fingers to prevent her from doing what we both wanted. I hadn't quite won yet.

"Anything?" It came out as half purr, half growl, and all enticing. "Anything," She at this point was half whimper, half plea, and all instigating, "Please?" I grinned at that, pulled my hips back, and pushed my head up, closer to her. I gave her a soft growl of warning, She liked it when I growled, and I liked that she gave me both cause and opportunity to. My hips rocked forward, and my hand came to rest against the outside of her slit. I held her there, I hadn't quite won yet.

"Collar, Belt, Heels." She knew I wouldn't make her wear that, or rather just that. Hell, I knew I wouldn't, but she had to give in, completely or it was still a Tie. "Anything." She still didn't give in, I shifted my hips a bit in a small circle letting her feel the slightest sliding motion before I prompted her "Anything....mmm?" She got the hint, and agreed readily enough when faced with the torment of waiting. "Anything Master." I grinned, and relaxed, only to begin sliding in and out.

I've neglected to mention what my other hand was doing for some while now. The notion of a cow costume was neither random, nor said to upset it, as my hand was now proving. It had much more to do with those full, soft breasts, those hard, turgid little nipples, and most of all to do with the white fluid that was slowly leaking out of them. The cow costume was a fitting idea, because my fucktoy, was lactating.

This was nothing surprising, and nothing new. Shortly after I claimed her for the first time, she was set onto that course, she enjoyed the feeling of feeding me, as well as the far more.. intimate knowledge that I had forsworn milk other than her own. I enjoyed feeding, as well as the potential for punishment, and the most noticeable effect of her cup size being... pardon the pun.. rather fluid at times.

But I let my mind wander. Fucktoy was wet, and not just between her legs, and she knew how that effected me. I couldn't have stopped myself from leaning over her to kiss her breast and lap at her nipple if my life depended on it. Between her legs my hand had been, now it was sliding up along her stomach, slipping between her breasts, and coming up to slip fingers into her mouth.

Her eagerness, and enjoyment was... palatable, equally as much so, as she seemed to find my fingers. Perhaps it was the taste of the trickle from me, and torrent for her she was after, but I firmly maintain she wanted to suck on my fingers more than she wanted the taste. Her tongue was eager and swift, swirling around my fingers even as she inhaled through her mouth, slurping up any juice she could get.

I've neglected to mention what my other hand was doing again, much as I lost track of my mouth. The latter is obvious, as full as she was, I would be suckling for the next half hour at the least, and woe to any power on heaven or earth that tried to change that. MY hand however was another matter entirely. You see, Fucktoy was playing with me.

She still hadn't said what I told her I expected her to. One might think she gave in by admitting she'd wear anything her master told her to. The truth was a different matter, She enjoyed finding the line of seeming to give in, while still refusing to comply with what she was told. It was no accident she didn't repeat back to me that she'd wear a Collar belt and heels. It was as deliberate as it was insubordinate.

This was not to be tolerated. The hand that wasn't in her mouth you see, had slipped out from under her neck, and slipped around atop it. My weight was on that elbow, and my hand itself was resting on her collarbone, lightly tracing around. Fucktoy, at this point was lying on her back from shoulder to mid back. Her right leg was pulled up over her left, and her hips were swiveled to the side, accommodating me.

While she sucked the juices off my right hand, the left was playing around near her neck, teasing her for the time being. I was more-a-less leaning over her as my hips rocked, sliding in and out with a steady, if slower-than she wanted, rhythm. My mouth pulled greedily at her nipple, and while I think her eyes were closed, or perhaps only open a slit, the truth is, I don't have the foggiest idea. My attention was elsewhere.

Then again so was her's. It was a protesting moan that issued when my lips parted way's with her nipple, and a much more pleased moan when she felt my tongue flicking across her other nipple. My left hand by now was against the back of her neck and working the muscles industriously. There is something to be said for being physically larger and stronger than your mate, if nothing else the ability to turn their muscles into so much putty is to be enjoyed. Enjoying it, I was. If you take a moment to hold your hand out as if you were going to push a door with it, you'll be able to tell what I was doing if you touch your finger tips to the base of your palm, right near the wrist.

My hand was making that motion, again and again, and kneading the back of her neck as it did. Putty, just might have been more solid than her neck was at that moment. When my right hand came up to clasp around the front of her throat, she made a soft, puzzled noise, and a few moments later opened her eyes. Eyes, a fine place to start, mine were dark, with an affected rage, or at least anger in them as I held her, both hands around her neck. My face likewise had been put into an order fitting a man who was thinking of throttling the life out of his lover.

This was not lost on her. I watched her eyes widen, and to ensure I was selling the act, I began to rock my hips more like a man possessed, than the possessive man we both knew I was. My voice was as much a snarl as it was a growl, when through clenched teeth, I emitted again, "Collar, Belt, Heels!" I wasn't sure I pulled it off at first, she hesitated, and to compensate, I introduced a slight tremor in my hands.

That was the selling move it seemed, I felt her shiver underneath me, as she hurriedly agreed, "Collar, Belt, Heels, Master." The trembling in my hands ceased, the so called spark-of-joviality came back to my eyes, silly that, its everything to do with the face around the eyes, but no matter. She gave in.

My grin would have looked out of place on a shark, but only because sharks don't feel triumph like humans do. I had my victory, even thought it required a bit of underhanded play. The truth was, I knew she liked the game just as much as I did. She goaded me into it enough that I had no doubt in that regard.

Now it was her face showing rage, and her hands coming up to throttle me. The grin on my face was more than cause enough for that I suppose. It had lost its predatory edge as her fury became revealed. Things turned into a wrestling match briefly as the fear and excitement were exorcised in the form of her trying her best to turn me black and blue, and me holding her down, and going on as if all her struggles didn't matter the least bit.

It took a while, but the process wasn't terrible. I confess I think that was in part to the piercing stare I gave her, speaking, telling her in all honestly how much I loved her. The romantic in me would say that was the deciding factor. The cynic in me would theorize that it had more to do with her inability to stop me, to stop herself from enjoying it, and the fact that Right after that I went straight to work on her long neglected, left nipple.

I don't recall how long it took before she stopped struggling, but I continued to hold her down for a while after that. I released her sometime after she arched her back, shuddering with her own release. When her spine went limp again, I rocked up and onto my knee's, and repositioned her right leg out to her right side. More comfortable, I suspected.

I leaned back in, sliding inside of her again, eliciting a soft moan at my entry. Closer and closer I got atop her, stopping with my cheek pressed against her's, my weight on my elbows, and my fingers slipping into her hair, finding her scalp and massaging. The grin on my face was perhaps not dark.. but it had a dark cast to it, good that she couldn't see it in that position, my voice however betrayed me. "And now, its my turn." I freed my right hand from her hair, and took her wrists. First one was moved up to her breasts, and then the other was.

"Play with them." My voice was soft, the tone was.. well it was a plea, simple as that. I propped myself higher up and watched as she slowly began to. My fingers found her scalp again, and we spent an eternity of minutes together, working slowly, and relentlessly to my release. I spent the entire time watching her, and while I'd hate to admit it to her... I watched her face, her expressions at least as much as I did her busy little hands.