He New What I Was

The moon shone through the window with the eerie clarity of midday sun across my naked body. I had left my apathetic husband at home with a quick fib of a night out with the girls. Instead I met with an intriguing man at a local bar. A man I'd only encountered earlier that day at work. Now, I lay naked on his bed with a glass of water poised idiotically in one hand as per his instructions. I snake my hand slowly towards my nipple and began to pinch it lightly as I think back on the feverish blow job I had given him just a minutes ago on the drive to his cabin by the lake. I can feel heat flow towards my already swollen and wet pussy as I reflect on how it felt to feel his hot load hit the back of throat while his hand gripped my hair and held my head down. Now I wonder in trepidation just what he had in store for me. In my impassioned state it felt as though he was taking forever, but also I feel oddly calm and relaxed in my surrender to him. I would wait much longer if I had to. I would wait as long as I had to.

I had tried to maintain my prowess earlier in the evening but his simply overtook me. Although I had fantasized about letting a man take control of me I'd always thought it wrong. I'd been raised to be a proud female and had succeeded in a field where most women ended up bowing to the sexism, the hostile environment or just the sheer physicality of the job. I worked long lonely hours that until my marriage, had sometimes led to love affairs in the bunk of my truck stopped off for the night, in the parking lots of deserted truck stops. Often beginning with tantalizing text messages between a married co-worker and a younger, single version of myself and culminating in our trucks being parked side by side as the cold wind blew snow against the heat of our feverish action within. Those were equal exchanges of mutual passion and although I enjoyed them; they did not light me on fire the way this did.

I often find myself reminiscing on the debauchery of my youth. When I was in my 20s I answered to no one. I acted impetuously; partaking in affairs with older married men, younger well-muscled co-workers and experimenting with women. Where I live- in a small prairie town- those types of exploits tend not to go unnoticed but be it luck or a shockingly successful amount of discretion I ended up married to a respectable man.

My husband, Raine is funny, intelligent, charming but sexually defunct. In fact, my sexually runs circles around his, almost taunting it into nonexistence. The guilt of betraying him in this way creeps up on me, diminishing my arousal but not totally because that is impossible at this point. I just wish I could tell him about this part of myself but when I'd tried to do so before; he was upset, so very much so, that he didn't come near me for weeks. I hate lying to him but I do not hate cheating on him. I think that I've known for a very long time that at some point I was going to do it. If I allow myself total honesty, I knew not only that, but that I had been looking for a man like Jack for a long time. I'd been searching for a man to take me out of my control, to use me and as such allow me to use him. If it hadn't been Jack then it would have been somebody else just as handsome and domineering. That somehow relieved me. It took some of my guilt away from submitting to him- it wasn't really about him, it was all about me and it had to be about me.

The sounds of footsteps approaching the doorway to the bedroom startle me out of my thoughts. His silhouette fills the doorway deliciously as I savour his shape. It certainly didn't HAVE to be him but I'm glad that it is. His broad shoulders practically made it necessary for him to turn sideways through the door. His longish blond hair flopped over his forehead giving him an almost smug boyish look that was accentuated by deep dimples on either side of his lips. He is well-muscled in a functional way but his predilection for the finer things in life show somewhat around his waist which appeals to me greatly. A man should feel as good as he looks; nobody wants to cuddle a rock.

"Do you trust me?" he asks. I don't know how to answer so he carries on, "Thing is, I need you to trust me. I won't hurt you but it won't do if you have any reluctances. I will make you beg but I will not harm you."

It is all down to this moment. He is giving me an out if I so desire. Although I know rationally that I have no real reason to trust him; I do.

"I do." I sigh.

My heart skips a beat as he draws out a large curved hunting knife from behind his back. Mind racing, I wonder just what he is planning but something about his bearing and expression calm me. He had said he had no intention of hurting me and I had said I believed him and I do. Watching my reaction, he approaches the bed slowly and pushes me lightly back on pillows. Still holding the glass of water he had ordered me, inexplicably, to hold; I fall back softly and comfortably watching him as he sits next to me. He has removed his shirt bearing his thankfully unshaven chest. To my disappointment he is still wearing his jeans. I want to see him- all of him. I know implicitly that I am not to touch him at this time no matter how badly I want to run my fingers across the hair on his chest. It is his move to make and I continued to wait.

Slowly, he lays the knife on its side on my thigh; the cool metal is shocking and tantalizing on my naked flesh. There is something incredibly sexy about watching him turn the knife to its blunt side across my flesh dragging it very lightly with no intent to harm. He is completely in control but I feel no real fear. Instead, electricity shoots throughout my being as he continues to toy with the knife drawing it up my thigh towards my soaked underwear. It is the power it represents that is getting me off.

"I hope you aren't too attached to these." He says as he uses the sharp tip of the knife to cut through my panties.

A sigh escapes my lips. The whole of my body feels as though I'm on fire from within and it is crying out for satiation. I want him inside and reach with my free hand to pull him to me.

"Not yet, my hungry little slut." He whispers firmly in my ear as he puts the broad side of the knife against my cheek. "And remember, don't spill the water..."

Setting the knife on his bedside table he seems to be done with that game. He moves his large body to lie next to me and kisses my neck delicately until his urgency rises and he searches out my mouth. His composure fades just enough for me to realize that his desire for me is just as strong as mine for him. Normally, I would react with furious passion to such a kiss and move my lips against his as though I wished devour them. Instead, I relax and let him take me in his kiss. I surrender my soft lips to his and give myself up to his passion allowing it to take me and become mine. His hand creeps slowly to the soft, swollen, wet lips between my legs but he does not touch them yet. Electric desire shoots through me as his fingers journey lightly across my stomach venturing closer and closer to the sensitive flesh there below. Every time he gets close to where I want him he moves his hand to another spot and restarts his slow tortuous journey. My hips begin to buck against my will, trying to draw attention to my need as if he didn't know it. I felt a drop of water fall on my wrist from the cup I'd been charged with holding straight. Hoping he didn't notice I righted the cup immediately.

"Bad Girl" he says smiling devilishly. He abruptly stops his sweet torture and reaches his hand up to pinch my nipple hard enough to border on pain. In my heightened state of arousal it only serves to rile me up more as pain blends neatly into pleasure.

"Please..." I gasped out.

"What? Tell me, my little slut, what do you want from me?"

"I need... I just need..." I falter.

"I know what you want." He states. "...and I know what you are, but you have to beg for it."

"I want you so badly." All my bravado gone, I can't even utter the words as to what my exact need is. "Please just touch me..."

He pinches my nipple hard increasing my need to a level almost past my control. "I am touching you." He says almost petulantly, with the intent to be irritatingly obtuse.

A groan leaves my body as I beg, finally losing what little dignity I had left, "Oh God, I just need you... you to... to lick it, to touch it, to suck my... to suck... my fucking clit!"

"Well now, normally I wouldn't like you to talk to me like that but I'm willing to overlook that, as I feel I may have driven you to it." He said with a half-smile.

With that he lowers his hand once again and snakes it across my smooth pale skin towards my swollen, sopping wet pussy. This time he doesn't stop and spreads my lips gently with his forefinger knowing exactly where to find my bud. Taking mercy on me; he rubs it firmly enough to supply some relief to my aching demanding body. Using both fingers he firmly massages some of my torturous need away; practically causing tears to spring to my eyes. Now that my throbbing clit is being serviced another need surfaces and my hips shoot up vulgarly; and embarrassingly not even of my own volition. I want him to fill my aching pussy, to stretch me wide with his big cock that had so recently done the same to my mouth. I know that won't happen soon but I crave it with all my being.

Keeping his fingers working he eases his way down my body, licking and nibbling my flesh as he works his way down. I begin to moan. I've never come this quickly in my life but I feel the unmistakable descent into ecstasy gripping me now. Focusing on the glass I maintain my composure briefly until his lips reach my swollen saturated pussy and latch, without preamble, to my throbbing clit. I scream out in pleasure and shock as he begins to suck and swirl his tongue around it mercilessly. Pulses of pure, unadulterated pleasure course through me as my entire body tightens and begins to shudder with my oncoming orgasm. Gripping the glass tightly, I throw my head back and cry out as he pushes a finger expertly inside me knowing exactly where to rub. Panting and moaning I lose myself, as much as I can, to my sweet release without spilling the cup. I am not worried about him punishing me but I am worried he will stop and that, in of itself, would be the most unthinkable punishment.

Miraculously, I don't spill a drop. He pulls away giving me a chance to recover and sweetly kisses the inside of my thighs. He does it with such worship and homage he hardly seems like the guy I started off the night with. As I lie back on his big comfortable bed, breathing heavily in a state of euphoria, I feel my need seep back in. The butterfly kisses stop and he moves back in with rapture and in a blur of lips, tongue and sucking he quickly draws me to yet another orgasm. It was all too much that blinding pleasure that makes me want to scream and claw; to lose my mind completely. Urgently I feel the need for him to stop before I lose all control of myself but there is no stopping. I see now his intent is to drive me to the utter edge and he will not stop. Not until I beg him to stop what I had begged him to start.

I can't tell you how long it carried on for but I can tell you how it ended. Countless times he wrings orgasm after mind numbing orgasm from me. I have lost track of all time and space as he devours my pussy with expert precision drawing on every sweet sensitive spot to its fullest. I close my eyes and see sunspots as vivid as fireworks as I squeeze my eyes shut in sweet agony. Every time he makes me come he stops long enough for me to recover briefly before launching right back into his cruel and delicious sport. My body is taut and my breath labouring as I gyrate my hips obscenely on his mouth while I completely and utterly lose every sense of myself.

The glass was lost long ago; the water spilt and heated to body temperature on my fevered flesh. My hands dig into his hair and force his head to my clit as I scream in ecstasy; breathing what feels like must be my last breaths. My back is arched in a spectacle of what I can only imagine is an insane sight to behold. Every muscle in my body seems to be contracting all at once and my cries of passion are hampered by my shortness of breath.

He looks up and sees what I have done with the glass of water. I am too euphoric to feel ashamed. His brow furrows and he moves suddenly and catlike for a man so big. A hand grips my hair tightly but not all together painfully as he growls, "Bad little slut, you were warned. Bend over the footboard. Hurry, quick now! I was lenient earlier but clearly that was a mistake." It is obvious that he is enjoying himself.

I rush to comply with his orders leaning myself awkwardly over the soft leather footboard on his bed. It was lower than usual as if he actually selected it for this purpose. I wouldn't venture to put that past him as his imagination for the obscene seems limitless. In position I rest my upper body by my elbows, squishing my tits together up against the cool leather. My ass is completely exposed and up in the air. I can feel my juices between my thighs in a sloppy mess of my come and Jack's saliva. He prowls around my prostrated body slowly, running his hand down the round curve of my ass and giving it a slap.

"I must punish you, as you know. But what should I do to a slut that can't follow simple instructions? You know? I think I just want to fuck that sweet little ass and neglect that pussy entirely. "He taunts.

He is leaning over my back to hiss his words in my ear. I can feel the roughness of denim against my naked ass as he rubs his massive erection up against the crack of my ass. Having had little success with anal sex in my past; I have to admit that it scares me.

"I think a spanking would be appropriate, Master." I squeaked out.

"Do you??? Well, maybe you are right but now that I see that sweet round ass in front of me I'm not sure I can hold myself back. Would you like that?" He taunts knowing that we both are aware he is in no danger of losing control.

"I... I don't... think so... sir." I can feel his breathe on my ear as I stutter out my pathetic reply.

"Beg"

"Oh, God, not in my ass please. I just... it's just... it's never felt good and you are too big, ok?"

"But you're being punished, slut, why should it feel good? Maybe I should just fuck it right now and come deep in that tight little asshole... maybe; I won't fuck your pussy at all."

"Nooo, please, I'll do what you say from now on... just please fuck me." I beg, not showing or feeling an ounce of dignity and not caring. In fact this whole exchange drove my need further than I thought I could go and as though against my will, my hips push back into his erection.

"Enough," he grunts, his own desire leaking into his voice while giving me a sharp slap on the ass. He doesn't quit at just one and starts giving me a thorough spanking. To my surprise, I love how it makes me feel and my pussy starts to drip down the inside of my thighs as I imagine how I must look to him or to anyone else entering the room. Ass up in the air, tits pressed against leather and head down as he wickedly slaps each cheek red. Never before had I ever let a man spank me; I'd always thought it so demeaning but here I am reveling in my own subjection.

"I want you." He says simply as he ends his fiery abuse of my backside and I feel him reach and grab both my arms letting the weight of my body rest on my chest against the leather footboard. It's a little painful but not uncomfortably so. At this point, it seems that all stimuli- no matter the origin- lead south to my aching pussy. I squirm with desire as he ties both hands behind my back firmly with a soft fabric tie of some sort, perhaps a bath robe tie. He runs his hands over my shoulders and down below to where my breasts are compressed and strained under my weight, he moves his hips and I can feel his hardness press against my sensitive, throbbing entrance. He pulls back and aligns himself. Without preamble he thrusts his cock deep into me and I cry out with relief as he stretches me easily to fit his girth.

I am so wet and aroused he has no trouble going balls deep in one stroke and I feel a delicious pressure deep inside me as he bottoms out my pussy. My hips are thrusting themselves against him as he slowly withdraws and pounds right back into me again and again- he pulls out slowly and thrusts forcefully back inside me increasing his speed until he is pounding me. My tits spill out over the end of the footboard as force of his pounding pushes me forward. My face is now resting on the covers of his bed as I revel and cry out with passion and the sweet relief being filled by his big cock. His balls are slapping with a steady rhythm on my tender clit and I feel close to losing my goddamn mind with the intensity of it all. An orgasm rushes to surface like an air bubble trapped beneath the waves. My mind feels as though it is splitting open and I give myself over to the beauty and savagery of it all. He slows his thrusting as my pussy clamps around his cock squeezing it with each shudder of my frenzied release and I cry out; my voice muffled into his blankets.

He unties my hands and hauls my somewhat limp body up and into his arms. Leading me to the bed he grabs my head by the hair and pushes it to his tender but impassioned kiss. He then pushes me onto my back on the bed and repositions himself between my legs lifting them to impale me on his rigid wet cock. He reaches down and pinches my tender nipples with he moves himself inside at a steady pace. Grabbing my hips he moves them in tandem with his own and a sweet euphoria washes over me as he continues for some time. He thrusts steadily all the way in, stretching me and filling me completely. He groans as he picks up his pace but comes nothing close to ferocious pounding he was giving me before. I am ready to come again and in my stupor I realize he is too. My pussy clamps down around his length as my own orgasm shakes me. Holding onto with what must be the last of his control he bears down and increased his rhythm against the tension of my pulsing orgasm. Groaning he withdraws his cock and shoots his load in thick strings of hot come onto my tits and stomach; the feeling of its hot wetness against my skin almost making me come again.

Immediately he leaves me lying on his bed; the moon shining through the window, shimmering on my desecrated skin as I bask in the afterglow of my faithless tryst with a practical stranger. Fatigue overtakes me and I feel my eyelids grow heavy as my thoughts begin to degrade into nonsensical dreams. I wake briefly as I feel a soft towel gently cleaning me off, then his weight on the bed as he lies next to me and draws me into his arms with my head resting on his chest.

Author's Note: I love hearing your feedback as it helps me become a better writer (hopefully!) Thanks for taking the time to read my series or just this part. I think I may be done with these characters (Jack for sure, probably not Skye as she is basically me) so I would appreciate any thoughts you have on that.