Im Mels Dad 20 Later

TWENTY

LATER

Your mother hangs from the hook I'd screwed into the joist in the ceiling of the living room.

Her wrists are lashed together and pulled upwards. Her elbows are tied tightly, nearly touching together behind her back.

I think that's called a reverse prayer - I don't really know or care. I like what it does to her.

The rope braided with her hair is what tethers her to the hook. She can rest her heels on the floor. As long as she was willing to suffer her hair being nearly pulled from her scalp.

She slowly alternates between the two pains. She holds herself on her toes until her calves began to cramp, until she shivers with the strain. Then she carefully lowers herself, fearful of tearing out her hair.

When she can take that pain no more, she lifts herself to the balls of her feet for relief.

As each crisis approache-, her shivering ha- the most entertaining effect on her tits, the shudder deliciously.

You and I sit on the couch, nibbling on cornchips and guacamole.

Your hand on my thigh, close up at the juncture with my hip, fingers calmly resting between the thick tendon of my groin and the hairy heft of my ball.

My arm drapes across your shoulder, covered by your hair which hangs down behind the couch. I toy with the bar in your far nipple.

We sit together, wordlessly.

Enjoying our quiet contact.

And the entertainment she provides.

"We should clamp bells on her tits."

You break the silence.

I am startled.

Startled out of my consuming erotic reverie.

More startled by your suggestion.

More startled that it was you making the suggestion.

"I'm not opposed. You know where to get them."

"Yep."

I watch your hair sway behind you as you move to the stairs.

Watching you move has become one of my favorite things. Merely walking displays your charms well beyond the hungry pornographic extremes displayed in most erotic photography.

Simple, supple, lithe, confident. glorious.

Simple.

It is you.

I lay my hand in my lap and cradle my half-full cock. Running my thumb along the grooved ridge on the top. Just at the base.

Placid.

I watch her slow dance between agonies.

You return, bouncing down the stairs. Your tits dance, your hair flounces.

You are glorious.

You've brought down the four inch manuscript clamps and snap them onto her nipples.

Both at the same time.

I don't know what to call that noise she makes - but it is very loud.

You stand in front of her and slap her tits a couple times each.

You attach a brass bell with a two-inch mouth to each clamp.

You slap her tits a couple times each and the bells ring out, deadened when they come to rest on the underside of her full breasts.

You whip around to face me, your hair flowing around you in a spiral of honied silk.

So lovely.

You stand facing me and hang silver spherical bells from your nipple bars.

You jiggle to make them jingle

"You like?"

"I do."

"Come here." I beckon and point to the rug beside my left foot.

You kneel beside me and fold over to lay your abs across my lap. You hold your wrists behind your back at your waist. Your belled tits hang free and press against the outside of my thigh.

You wait, knowing what is coming, eager, holding your breath, remembering the sting.

You turn your head to watch her hanging.

I spank you hard. And again.

Your bells clinkle.

She rises onto her toes and turns her head away. Her emotions betrayed by her brass adornments.

A good choice.

My cock rises, to brush against your jaw.

You pivot your head and take me into your mouth.

You don't lick or suck or bite.

You don't bob your head.

You just hold half of me resting on your tongue and breathe around me.

Exhaling with a gasp each time I land a blow on your ass. Which is turning from pink to red.

I have not been counting but I must be well past twenty.

And you are loving it.

Her bells are ringing. I look up and she is watching hungrily.

She wishes I was rewarding her like I'm rewarding her daughter.

I laugh at her. Loud and open mouthed.

What a pathetic bitch.

You don't know why I'm suddenly laughing.

You twist round to look up at me.

I lean down and kiss you.

I caress your burning ass cheeks, smoothing over your heat. Curl my fingers into your crack.

I dip into your dripping snatch and spread your sauce up to tap on your crinkled hole.

You snuggle back against me, lifting to offer your cunt, welcoming me in.

Three fingers enter you and you moan.

Ahhh, that marvelous song.

You take me into your mouth again, snaking your tongue, bobbing down to tap your throat against my head.

I match your rhythm with my plunging fingers and you clutch them to that same beat.

I look up at your mother.

She looks so sad.

So hungry.

So right.

I smile at her and nod.

She cries, tears tracking down her cheeks.

She is beautiful.

I pull you up by your hair, holding you to kneel beside me.

I comb through your hair, from crown to just past your shoulders.

You lean to press your abs against my thigh.

You lift your hands to toy with your tits.

She watches us intently. Hungrily

This pleases me.

I lean to kiss you.

"Come, Sweet, sit on my lap."

You rise and turn to me, your bars flashing in your nipples.

You begin to sit facing me.

"No. Turn. Look at your mother."

You turn, to straddle my thighs. As you lower yourself to my lap I aim my cock at your crotch.

When you feel my head brush against your fork you turn your head back to look at me.

"Which do you want."

I waggle my dick between your ass and your cunt.

"You choose. I want you to be pleased."

You turn back to face her and reach a hand between your thighs. You rub me back and forth against you several times, then stop with your anus on my head.

You do a snakey, twisting dance, working me with your asshole, bounded by your muscular cheeks.

You lower yourself and my dick bends a little, then your ass relaxes and my head pops in.

You swivel and churn and slowly, achingly slowly, work yourself onto my shaft.

I reach around you and tease and fondle and tweak and toy with your nipple bars.

I had never realized how much I would enjoy these adornments.

But I do.

And you do.

I am watching your mother.

She is salivating so much she is swallowing continuously. Her nipples redden and stiffen, standing out from her gorgeous globes.

Her eyes don't seem to be focused on anything, seem to be seeing us in total. No details.

I feel your sphincter clear the slight wedge of the first third of my cock. I get no thicker than that.

I suddenly dig my fingers into the softness of your tits and slam you down on my cock - fully impaled in an instant.

You scream in surprise and ecstasy.

So does she.

I growl into your ear.

"Watch her as you fuck me."

You begin a swiveling, twisting movement, rising and lowering just enough.

I am conscious and drifting into a grey density of unfocus.

She watches us intently.

I rest my hands on your thighs and enjoy the feeling of your quads working beneath your skin.

As your dance on my cock, I slowly move my fingers up your thighs.

I scrub along your slit, pressing your soft mound against the bones beneath.

Three fingers of each hand slip easily into your cunt and I rub your clit between both thumbs.

You play with your breasts, enjoying putting on a show for your mother.

She doesn't enjoy it as much, but is turned on none-the-less.

She moans and drips.

I pull my fingers out of you and thrum your clit, fingertips stroking and striking your tender bullet.

You shiver against me, your ass clutching me fiercely as your pump.

I drive you forward, onto your knees, slamming your tits down onto the coffee table.

I drive into you several times and then, hold deep inside you, flattening your ass and panting, trying not to come.

I stroke and pet your through the veil of your hair and calm myself.

And you.

I gather your hair and twist it into a rope. I pull your arms up and wrap the golden rope around your forearms, binding them behind your back.

I slip my hands into your underarms and stand, lifting you to your feet.

"Come on, Sweet."

I guide you around the table and over to your mother.

I lower you to your knees in front of her and force your head down to the floor between her feet.

I gently, slowly, teasingly push into your cunt.

Damn, girl, your are wet.

I fuck you, tits are mashed into the rug, your shoulders wedged against her ankles.

Knocking against them with the slow rhythm I set.

You rock back against me swallowing each thrust, endorsing each withdrawal.

I watch her face.

She is not happy. She is turned on.

I am happy to see that.

Her frustration is a gift.

I grip your hair and pull your head up between her thighs, knocking her cunt with the back of your head.

Using your hair, I guide your mouth to her mound and you dive in.

I speed up and your rocking drives your mouth against her cunt.

She responds almost immediately with what appears to be an orgasm -

Understandable.

I hold your head in place - though you seem committed to this on your own.

I ram into you deep, pushing your cervix aside and I hold, deep.

You clutch and grip and play with my shaft while your mouth continues your ministrations relentless.

She is quaking and shivering and her knees give out. Her fall yanks her hair. She screams.

And her coming intensifies.

She collapses, unconscious, and simply hangs.

I pump into you vigorously and you respond.

You abandon her pussy, lower your head and rock with me, driven by my pounding.

Your head butts against her cunt and she sways, suspended by her hair.

I shoot into you, triggering a massive climax in you.

You drop to the floor exhausted.

I follow your down and lie on top of you.

Our sweat pastes your disarrayed hair between us.

Regaining control of my breathing, and aware of the burden of my weight pinning you to the floor, I roll off of you.

Lying on my back, I see that she has recovered and is again standing on the balls of her feet, heels off the ground, relieving the wrenching strain on her scalp.

She can not tilt her head, but her eyes are looking down on me.

Her agony is etched in her face, her eyes glisten with her tears.

And she is grateful.

I shake my head, rolling on the floor.

For this she returned.

I didn't understand her when she left.

I didn't understand her when she returned.

I don't understand her now.

It is exhausting to invent new ways to give her what she wants.

I reach up and jam a thumb into her cunt, curl it over her pubic bone and jack her roughly, my fingers balled up against her clit.

She shivers and begins to rock against my fist.

I jerk out of her and lie there watching her tears fall.

You stir.

I realize I am lying on your hair, pinning you to the floor.

I stand, help you up and together, we abandon your mother and walk into the kitchen.

I pull the bistro pitcher of water from the fridge while you pull two milkshake glasses from the shelf. You set them on the island and sit, watching me.

I step up beside you and you gently wrap your hand around my sapped and hanging cock.

I look down at you and you look up and squeeze me.

You circle my dick and pull down slowly, milking me and drawing down the fluids left since my withdrawal from your cunt.

My cock springs back when you release me. You lick your palm, then lick and suck your fingers, one by one, slowly fucking your mouth with each one, watching me the whole time.

And I'm watching you.

My cock stirs, but there is no rush of blood to engorge.

I smile down at you, delighted.

I fill the glasses and, just 'cuz, let a short stream of frigid water splash onto your near tit.

You scream and laugh.

I pour a bit more into your lap, and it runs between your thighs and over your pussy.

You scream, jump up and punch my chest.

We're both laughing as I reach down and cup your cunt mound. You settly your weight into my hand and we stand there, still and pulsing.

I turn away, cap the pitcher and set it back into the fridge.

"That was fun, Sweet."

"You're such a jerk."

"You liked it. And you'll like it again."

You laugh, "Yeah, prob'ly."

We both sit and begin drinking from our heavy glasses.

We watch each other.

Even the way you swallow turns me on.

I get serious, cloudy.

"Do you still want her here?"

"Well... yeah."

"A little doubt?"

"Well... maybe... but."

"OK. Do you want to participate with me in what I do to her?"

"Uh..."

"Hurt her not in a 'kinda hurt' way?"

"I don't think I want to do that. But I like what we've done together."

"So you want her to stay?"

"Yes."

"Cool. Hadda check."

"Yeah."

We head back to the living room.

"Grab an ice tray."

You turn back to obey.

She lifts her eyes to watch me cross the living room. She looks tired, exhausted.

And hungrily fearful.

This pleases me.

I take a firm stance half a meter in front of her, hands on hips.

I glare into her tear-damp eyes.

She shudders.

I swing my right fist wide and fast and bash her left tit, setting her bell ringing.

She gags out a strangled scream.

I swing my left and bash her right tit.

You step into the doorway and watch, curious, intrigued.

As I increase the speed and impact of my alternating punches, you gasp.

And smile.

The bells are jingling as ferociously as my fists hitting her tits. They bounce and jolt rapidly under my assault.

The combination of muffled thuds, ringing bells and gasping moans is a music that I start to play.

I wish I was recording it.

Alas, I'm not.

I'll have to recall.

Or, perhaps, reproduce.

I rest, relax, stand before her, our eyes locked, messages echoing back years are exchanged.

"OK, Sweet, come here."

You walk over.

"The ice."

You lift the ice tray as an offering.

"Do you want to eat her?"

You nod and kneel before her. And set to work at her flooding pussy.

She spreads her legs, opening access for you. This pulls more fiercely on her scalp, but that is her choice.

You are obviously as good at using your mouth on her cunt as you are at using it on my cock.

I don't know where you learned these skills, or with whom, but I am glad you did.

I'll ask you about it later, you have many girlfriends I'd like a shot at.

If they're interested.

If you are.

I'll ask.

"Here, shove this into her."

I hand you an ice cube.

You obey and she shivers.

"Here, this one, too."

I hand you another ice cube.

And another and another, until her cunt is melting all eighteen of the cubes you have pushed into her.

Water is dripping down her thighs, melted, but still ice cold.

Overwhelmed by the sensations she shifts around, wriggling, held in place by her scalp, her tits circling with every twitch, jingling her bells.

I step over you and ram a huge vibrating egg into her, damming all that frigidity inside.

I slap her tits a few times, just for fun.

I press our fattest dildo into her mouth, stretching her lips and jaw nearly to their limits.

I set it to its highest setting and tie it in with a red bandana.

I tug you back away from her by your shoulders and set you back on your heels.

I wrap your hair around my cock and it acts as a lubricant as I slide my hand along my shaft.

You reach back to grab and massage my ass, pulling me, holding me against the back of your head.

This lifts your breasts enticingly.

And I am enticed.

I bend over you and toy with your bars, tugging, twisting, pinching. I take larger handfuls, caressing and squeezing - OK, mauling your beautiful mounds.

You lean forward and rest your hands on the floor, pressing your butt against my cock and wriggling to seat me in your groove.

I continue to fondle your breasts, now hanging beneath you and rub my fully erect dick between your cheeks. I slip between your thighs and my rod grooves along your dripping slit. You moan and press back against me.

My head finds your opening and together we work me into you.

I do so enjoy our energetic merging connection.

We are so comfortable with our perfect fit. And we both have learned how to maximize our own pleasure, such that each pleases the other.

I notice the bells have stopped. I look up to check and she is standing motionless on the balls of her feet, watching us, rapt, excited, sad.

This pleases me.

I reach around to cup your throat and lift your face to watch her.

You moan at the sight and squeeze me, holding me firmly.

"It feels so good to be in you, Sweet."

I say this just to twist the knife. I know she remembers me inside of her before she left.

To twist it further, I start slamming into you, driving you to crawl forward a step.

You collapse onto your chest and I, enthused, drive harder.

Our screams and moans of joy join the sounds of the slosh and slap of our union.

You start pumping your cunt muscles and you trigger me to pump my seed into you.

And that triggers you.

We collapse onto our sides and roll around on the floor.

I slip out of you and we end up lying face to face with you on top of me.

You kiss me, crushing your barred tits against my chest.

Her bells tinkle dully.

I turn my head to look at her and see that she is shuddering through a massive climax of her own.

I smile.

Am I cruel?

She came back knowing what she knows.