Im Mels Dad Ch 16 Afternoon

SIXTEEN 'Afternoon'

I am following her desire, expressed by her return.

She's known since she left the certainty of my promised response to her return.

She left because I refused to treat her this way. When she did, I told her if she ever came back, I would go beyond her expressed lusting for this treatment.

She is bent backwards over the back of the couch, which I've pulled well away from the wall.

Her legs are stretched wide, ankles bound snugly to the front bases of the armrests. She is bent harshly over the wooden top bar of the couch back, cutting cruelly into the meat of her ass. Her wrists are tied to the back legs of the couch, her tits standing proud off her ribs.

Her double-holed slit, aimed straight up at the ceiling, opens wide, exposed to my ministrations.

I have been whipping her directly on that uplifted mound and sphincter so long that my arm is tired.

I had first used my fine horse-tail whip to redden her uplifted flesh from knees to pussy, painting the forked inside of her thighs a delicate flaming rose.

My eight-tail then laced her cunt mound and perineum with crossing lines and the brilliant punctuations left by the knots along the strands.

Satisfied with my designs, I took up a bamboo and pounded her fleshy pussy mound until it was swelling to bursting.

I am now concentrating on tagging her blood gorged clit with the popper of my buggy whip, which I've trimmed and knotted the strands of the tip just for use in this exercise.

Her delightful screams have long ago shuddered into heaving sobs and have now fallen silent.

So I know this phase is coming to its end.

I smile, satisfied.

Laying the buggy aside, I step forward and line my throbbing cockhead along her ballooned pussy, the heat and pillowy softness delightful.

I press my head between her labia and, hearing her raw groan, I ram into her cunt.

My cock is bent downward and I lean forward and bend my knees to drop into her sloppy, swollen, flaming hole.

This angle is a bit too painful for me.

I vault the couch and kneel on the couch between her wide-stretched thighs. Again, I thrust into her, now bending over and pounding into her, clutching her tits for balance - and leverage.

Knowing she is in agony, I intensify my assault.

Her weeping sobs are renewed.

I like that.

I hear you come in, now home from school, my anticipation stoked by the sound of your ritual disrobing before entering our home.

I jerk out of your mother and walk to greet you with a hug, your body cool against mine. I am sweaty and well-exerted. You press your abs against my upthrust cock, dripping with her juices.

We kiss and hug standing at the threshold of the foyer.

I reach up and loose the looped bun, releasing your hair to fall over your back, a cascade of honied gold.

Our tongues dance in our mouths, a well-practiced slow tango.

Pressing you to me, I rub the muscled curves of your back curtained by your fine hair.

I love this feeling, thin strands of gold lubricating my insistent hands as I lead the static dance of roaming flesh-to-flesh pressure between us.

I grind my still damp cock against your abs as I cradle your ass and hold you firmly against me.

We sway slightly, in opposition to each other, rolling over every bulge and into every valley from knees to shoulders. My cock and your tits are dragged side-to-side by your abs and my chest.

I gather you hair together high on the back of your head, using the tail to lightly whip your ass and back.

I wrap your hair once around your neck and lead you by it through the door to see your mother bound bent backwards over the couch, her travails still clearly mapped on her tortured flesh.

You huddle against me.

We stand and look at her.

Our breathing synchronizing, ribs swelling and relaxing in tandem.

You step away from me, your hair pulling out of my hand to drape over your shoulder and hang down your back.

You lay another loop around your neck, creating a double thick honey scarf.

You trace her swollen cunt mound with tender fingertips. Exploring, marveling.

You have never seen this before.

The signs of brutal torture, her flesh mound shining from the tightness of her skin, her slit filled with pooling juices.

You kneel on the couch between her legs and slip a fingertip along her slit, circling her clit, the drawing back along the valley between the scarlet balloons of her cunt lips.

You slide a finger into her and extend it to touch her spot. She moans.

You pull your finger out and suck it between your lips.

You smile.

Kneeling between her tautly spread legs, your ass thrusts towards me and, being me, I rub your twin orbs.

You wriggle back to me and lean down to suckle at your mother's pussy, licking the flaming engorged flesh. Your chin resting on her asshole.

I thrust my right hand, fingers stiff, between your thighs and press into your tender fountain. You lift to welcome me in.

I lay my left hand on the back of your head and press down lightly.

You shake me off and arch your back, dragging your tits into the vee of her thighs and nesting in her inflamed crotch.

"She's hot."

"I suspect she is."

I slip my four fingers into your clenching cunt, curling them and slipping out of you, stretching your lips, pulling at your curtains.

You release me with a wet pop and roll to the side, laughing.

I roll you onto your back and lean in to suckle at your stiff nipple, twisting the bar you have through your nipple with my tongue.

You shift, squirming into a more comfortable position and lift your tits to press into my mouth.

I close my teeth behind the bar gently and jerk, tugging and stretching your pierced flesh.

I release and your breast flows back and bounces to rest against your chest.

I stand between your legs and unwrap the scarf of your hair from around your neck.

You lean forward to take my cock into your mouth; I pull your hair to lay your head back against her swollen mound, nestling snugly between her still throbbing thighs.

I comb through your hair, separating it, smoothing out the few tangles.

I shift my hips forward and enter between your smiling lips.

I begin to spread your hair out, a golden fan blanketing your mother, bound over the couch, legs bound widely spread.

I do so love what you do with your lips and tongue.

Pumping the midsection of my length with your lips, snaking your agile tongue around my shaft, flattening my cock against your palate... and no teeth scraping.

And, when you feel it, swallowing my head and rippling your throat around me.

I pull back and sit on my heels, my glistening cock head lifted to my navel by my stiffness.

We smile at each other with the energetic relaxation we so treasure.

You are so regal, sitting blissfully, your arms resting along her taut legs, the widespread arms of your throne of spun gold.

I lean over you, lifting slightly off my heels, to suckle at your breast, toying with your barred nipples with lip and tongue.

You lift slightly and relax sighing, and repeat, a pulsing answer to my laving.

I bite down on your left nipple, my teeth clacking against your bar, and settle back a bit.

You follow my pulling on your tit and when I stop moving, you bend to press your back against the couch, stretching your tit into a narrow cone.

I release you and as your breast snaps and jostles back into place on your ribs, you laugh, a silver giggling ripple through the air.

I slap the side of your right tit. You gasp and we laugh together.

I sit back on my heels and marvel at your slender beauty spread before me on your silken golden throne, regal.

You watch me as my eyes caress your splendid body.

I salivate.

I lay a hand on each of your knees and explore the depths of your lipid eyes.

And you study mine.

We absorb each other.

I like that.

I slowly palm up your quads, thumb following the well-defined groove on the inside of your thigh.

You spread your knees, opening your thighs. Your heels move against my ass to press against the bulging flesh where I rest on my feet.

Your actions rotate your thighs so that I am smoothing slowly up your sartorius, wrapping around and gently forcing you to open more. Your heels move along my leg to rest between my thigh, halfway to my hips.

My eyes sweep over the topography of your torso, exploring this enticing terrain with frank familiarity.

Your smoothly rounded breasts, barred nipples wet from my nursing; The velvet skin over the gentle corrugations of your ribs; Your abs toned and relaxed.

You intently, lazily, half-lidded, watch my eyes, smiling with increasing anticipation, surrendering to me, knowing the building pleasure we are approaching.

My thumbs reach the hollow at the outer edge of your perineum and you shift again, moving your ass to the edge of the couch and lifting your legs to lay your heels on the back of my hips.

I roll the pads of my thumbs in those triangular valleys framed by the firmness of your muscles and the bulging softness of your pudenda. You lift slightly and moan softly, as you ease into pleasurable surrender.

I wrap my fingers into the groove where your thighs meet your abs and shift my thumbs to toy with the nerve bundles between your asshole and your cunt.

Ahhhh - again, that noise

Your throaty sigh of arousal.

I like that.

I watch your face and it takes you a beat to realize I have ended my visual survey and now gaze into your eyes.

You return my gaze and again, we absorb each other through the windows of our souls.

I assault your pussy mound from both sides, my thumbs indenting the outer edges, squeezing your puffy flesh between them. This opens the outer edges of your cunt lips, revealing the glistening of your slit.

Your eyes reveal your rising excitement and your tits ride your slowly heaving chest.

I dig my thumbnails into your tender flesh and you gasp, then smile, your face crinkling with pleasure.

I drag my nails up over your mound and trace your lips. You lift slightly, encouragingly.

I smile, lick my lips and dip my thumb-tips into your slit, gliding along your moist groove.

You relax back into your golden throne, your arms still relaxed along your mother's splayed thighs.

I frame your puffy mound with my index fingers and my thumbs slide between your cuntlips, wetted by your pooling nectar.

I pinch and spread you open; You gasp and smile, open-mouthed.

Your eyes flash and take fire deep within, and that spark from the depths of your eyes leaps to ignite and devour my own.

I like that.

A slight twist of my thumbs drives my nails into the hood of your clit, a set of pincers digging deep.

You scream and arch up, your head mashing your mother's tortured pussy mound.

She screams.

You relax down into your regal pose and smile at me through half-lidded eyes.

I press my thumb nails together again.

You gasp, breath deeply.

And murmmur meaninglessly, wordlessly, the intensity of your pleasure.

Mmmmmm.

Ahhhhhh.

Again.

Pinching your clit, I drive the index and middle fingers of both hands into your opening, weeping and clutching cunt. This action tugs your clit away from its sheath.

While I plunge my fingers in and out, you rotate your hips and seek increasing contact between your soaked pillowy interior and my hard, invading fingers.

My little fingers trace your anus, circling and tapping in rhythm with my others.

You lift your hips to me and I feel your asshole relax.

I jam into you as far as I can, my folded ring-fingers setting the depth as they pound against your perineum.

I lunge against you, my shoulders mashing hard between your thighs.

You lift your legs and hook them over my shoulders, curling and lifting your openings up to me eagerly.

You start wriggling even more to our mutual passion.

I use each of the six invaders now independently, now in concert, seeking, as always, the actions that get you to sing that tender song of delight that I love so much.

And you do.

I like that.

With my fingers dancing inside you, I begin to concentrate on your engorged, swollen and pulsing clit.

I vise you between my thumbs. Bat you between them. Fold you over the one with the other. Roll your jewel-bud between them for what feels like at least a full-turn - though unlikely.

I dig both thumbnails into your clit from either side.

You shriek and thrash.

You thrash so hard you cast me out and knock me back to sit on my heels.

You bang your head back against her repeatedly.

Your mother joins your agony as you pummel her crotch with the back of your skull.

A blunt hammer against her well-whipped pussy.

Your mutual screams harmonize in such a exciting duet.

I smile wide and stiffen.

I lean in and lave your nectar, soothing your bud with kisses and tender suction.

You relax and sigh.

I hear your mother's continuing agonized outbursts and look up.

You look at me and smile. You are continuing your boney assault, hammering her taut crotch.

You lay your hands on the back of my head, gently guiding me back to my task at hand.

Well, 'task at tongue'.

You fold your calves across my shoulders and I delve and plow deeper into your moist, marvelous groove.

I am rewarded as you slowly rock your ass on the couch, setting a pulse for the dance of my tongue with your cunt lips.

She continues her clutching exhalations and you set the rhythm for us all with your surging crotch and your pounding skull.

I reach around your thighs to toy with the pegs through your nipples.

You exhale loudly and hold your cunt high.

Your mother screams as her tortured crotch supports nearly all your weight.

I like that.

I curl my arms at the elbow which pulls your tits high, holding you in the bridge your body forms between your head pressed into her cunt and your legs around my shoulders.

My tongue parts your slit, delving deeper into your treasure, lapping up your flow.

Such exquisite liqueur.

I take the hair draped over your shoulders and wrap it around your uplifted tits.

I pull your hair to the sides, tightening the loop around your paired mounds.

Your golden silk tightens, then slips off your soft orbs, catching on the bars and tugging your mounds to the sides.

You begin to writhe again much to my delight.

And your mother scratches and claws at the rear legs of the couch, screaming, her throat now raw with it.

You come ferociously.

You pull so strongly that I can no longer hold you, but your legs hold my shoulders more tightly than I can escape.

Though, with my face forced into your crotch, your mound pressed into my mouth, I am content to be trapped.

Your vise grip softens as you flow gently back onto the couch, panting.

I push your legs apart and, kneeling still between your thighs, I rise to trace my cockhead along your crack from asshole to clit.

After a few passes I slip easily into your open and well-lubricated cunt, passing your cervix and bottoming out in one slow, easy thrust, a welcome intruder.

And there I rest.

Your muscular sheath's spasms slowly weaken and stop.

I am content to lay on you, our sweat pasting our flesh together.

I am stiff still, deep inside you. Our hearts pulsing together in our most intimate connection.

I kiss you and lick the sweat off your brow, your cheeks. I lick your lips and you suck me in, eagerly welcoming my tongue.

I roll gently side to side, my rod stirring within you. You lift your hips in encouragement.

Slowly, so slowly, we begin to fuck.

And, of course, we soon begin to speed up, my strokes lengthen, you lift yourself in offering - higher, higher.

Our crotches pound together fiercely, the clacking of our bones echoing down the hall.

I come powerfully. And immediately collapse down onto you, exhausted.

You clutch at my cock with your pussy, milking the last of me.

You come quietly yourself.

We lie panting.

I rise, after a long rest, and stand between your spread legs.

You lean forward and take my juice-covered cock into your mouth, and swab it clean with your tongue.

You suck all the dampness off, looking into my eyes the whole time.

I take you by the wrist and lead you to the kitchen for a snack and a drink.

We sit at the island, thigh to thigh, naked and sweaty.

So sweet.

You make a decision and, standing, take my hand and lead me up to the shower.

You turn the water up to a pummeling heat.

You turn me under the stream, wetting me entirely.

You squeeze some peppermint liquid soap from the bottle into your hand and spread it over my back, repeating the squeeze at my waist.

Your hands frame my butt, then your fingers trace my crack and circle my ass.

You reach forward and soap my balls.

You soap up my thighs and kneel behind me to do my calves.

Reaching around you do the front of my legs from the ankles up.

When you reach my hips, you lean in and lick my asshole.

You hold me by my cock, still mostly limp, but getting heavier.

You stand and turn me to face you.

You soap my chest.

You move to my shoulders and down my arms. My abs, hips follow.

You kneel down and lovingly soap my cock and balls.

So tenderly.

So loving.

You take my thickened cock into your mouth and, holding your head still, snake dance around me with your tongue.

I do not stiffen. I do not lengthen.

I love the things you are doing.

I lift my hips into you, my shoulders against the wall and the shower stream rolls down my chest and washes over your hair, bunching it wetly around your feet.

You release me and stand before me.

You throw your arms around my neck, press your breasts against my ribs and rise onto your toes to kiss me, melding our mouths.

I expect to wash you, but you step out of the shower, grab a towel and dry yourself.

I watch fascinated.

As always, astonished by your beauty.

You wrap your hair in the huge towel and turban it onto your head.

This action of course lifts your wet tits and your erect nipples stand forth, the dripping bars shining and sparkling in the mirror lights.

You walk through the door into the hall, leaving me standing under the stream.

I step out, wrap a towel around my waist and follow, dripping water onto the floor.

In the living room I step behind the couch and untie your mother's wrists from the back legs. I tangle my fingers in her hair and lift her. As her ass clears the top of the bar across the back, I throw her away from me, off the couch and towards the table. I release her to fly, knees held wide, falling. Her knees catches the front edge of the couch and her forehead lands hard on the coffee table.

I kneel between the table and the couch and untie her ankles.

I notice that the cords have dug deep and her struggles have left small tears around her ankles.

She is totally depleted, a floppy rag doll.

I flip her onto her back on the coffee table and she lies there shuddering, dystonic.

One arm lies across her gut, the other hangs over the edge of the tabletop. Her legs lie loosely where they flopped.

I toy with her nipples while I wait for your return.

I call to you, "Sweet, come here."

You come in from the kitchen, answering my call.

You smile and walk in, glass of milk in hand.

"Come over here. Sit on her face."

You step over her torso and lower your cunt to her mouth, locking her head down against the table top.

You wriggle a bit, I guess you intend to encourage her, but she seems pretty out of it after so many hours bent over the couch with her head down.

You amuse yourself with your unresponsive toy.

I sit on the couch and spread thighs wide, resting my balls on her cunt.

I work my fingers, tracing the shallow canyons along the sides of her abs.