Late But Well Worth The Wait

One hour. "Correction," he reminded himself, "one

fucking

hour." That's how long Michael had been in traffic trying to get back from work. It was normally only a twenty-minute drive from his office complex in the Upper-Side to his apartment, but there had been some rain that drenched the roads and flooded out one of the bridges. It was pretty bad— two vehicles stranded completely. Not compacts, either: there was a Taurus and a Dodge Ram. For a moment when he saw that, he laughed to himself: people in trucks always thought they were invincible, but not this time. Of course, the humor only lasted for the first thirty seconds or so until he realized how long he'd be stuck near the bridge. He muttered to himself as the cars plodded, one at a time, on the shallowest stretch of the water to avoid submersion. His exit was only two from the bridge. Eighteen minutes to get to the bridge. Over forty waiting for the idiots in front of him to move.

When was only a few cars away, and he inhaled deeply and ran his fingers through his thick russet-tinged hair and clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. He'd told Megan that he'd be there at 6:00.

It was not 6:00.

Finally it was his turn to move beyond the newly formed water basin and he was on his way again. A quick glance at the speedometer would tell you he was going a good twenty over the speed limit, but he justified it in his mind because he wanted to be home and he was tired of the endless waiting. Zigzagging between cars and impatiently waiting for stoplights to change paid off, because he was home in half the time it should've taken from the bridge.

Thank God for little mercies

.

He turned off the ignition and opened the door, tossing the keys in his pockets. He could see it now: Megan angrily chastising him for not only being late, but not calling her and letting her know. It was supposed to be their "date night" and they had plans to go see the latest film and grab some food, but that clearly wasn't going to be happening (at least not the way it was intended). Michael opened the door and stepped through it into the living room, but Megan was nowhere to be found. He winced inwardly at her absence— it was

never

a good sign when she wasn't there. He hesitated a bit, then headed towards the bedroom. He toiled through possible apologies in his mind and knocked on the door. He thought he heard something, but it was muffled. He knocked again.

"Come in," was whispered in a very soft, breathy tone.

Michael canted his head to the side— something was up, but he wasn't sure quite what. He turned the doorknob and pushed the wooden frame open to find Megan standing there in a rouge velvet corset that laced tightly in the front, a long ebony beaded necklace, laced panties, and black garters with fishnet stockings.

"Well, hello there, handsome."

Michael choked on his words as he looked at Megan: there she was, five foot six, pert breasts, perfectly shaped curves along her hips and ready for the taking. He barely managed to speak, "…er…hi."

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I just… erm… I wanted to apologize about being so late. There were two cars stuck in this giant puddle because of the rain and—"

Before he could finish, she cut him off with, "don't worry about it."

"We can still go out if you want to, Meg." His eyes scanned her body and he forced himself to keep eye-contact so he wouldn't get too turned on. It was a difficult task, to say the least, with her breasts almost pouring out the corset and her legs spread apart as if to invite him in.

"No, I don't think I want to go out tonight," she had a knavish little grin plastered across her glossed lips.

"Then what do you want?"

"I want you. I've been waiting for you all night. I was at the school today, all day, teaching middle-schoolers about the differences between "conocer" and "saber," but all I could think about was you taking me," her tongue flicked across her teeth as she purred out the words.

Michael smirked and began to get a bit emboldened: he was forgiven, and the ball was in his court now. He could do with her what he pleased, and he could draw this out.

"I'm not sure, hon. I really think we should go out. I mean, you wanted to so badly a few days ago and I feel terrible…"

"No, Michael. I want

you

."

"Well, how do you want me?" he simpered and closed the door, leaning against it. She took the bait and waltzed towards him, her hips cartwheeling those garters up and downwards as she made her way over.

"I want you to take me."

He looked away, pretending to be disinterested, "take you how?"

She turned his head back around and pulled on his tie. Looking him directly in the eyes, she responded, "I want you to fuck me like you own me. I want you to make me yours."

Her words set him off, and his hand instinctively went for her neck, grabbing it with just the right amount of force, and he spun to pin her against the door.

"You don't tell

me

how you want it, do you? I tell

you

how

I

want it. Did you forget?"

"N-no, mister. I didn't forget."

"Apologize."

"Sorry."

His hand went back and he struck her across the face with enough force to sting. Her body tensed and she let out a soft moan. He eyed her sternly, "you forgot something."

"Sorry…

sir

."

"Much better, my little girl."

His natural dominant nature began to come out as this went on. He was a loving man, but when she said those words— "like you own me"— something almost changed in him. Or rather than change, actualized. And in that same instant, Megan became his submissive little slut to do with what he pleased. Just the idea was enough to get him hard. He took her by the hand and moved it to touch his hard dick through his pants. She squeezed hard and looked up at him with wide-eyes.

"Well, hello there."

"Get down on your knees." She would have fallen down naturally, but he wasn't about to make it easy on her. He took a tuft of her auburn hair in his hands and pulled on it from the roots, literally yanking her to the ground. She winced and gasped, opening her mouth, and he used that opportunity to unzip his fly and stick his long, hard cock past her waiting lips. She gagged for a moment and then started going at it, her tongue tracing up the length of his shaft, feeling it pulse in her mouth. He arched his back and continued to force her up and down on his dick, barely giving her a reprieve in which to breathe. Her lips tightened around each inch as she bobbed her head back and forth. She did this over and over again, and Lord knows she was skilled at it. Her tongue was magic as she sucked him senseless, humming her lips on him while she went. He pulled her up for a second and half-dragged her over to the bed.

"Lay on your back, with your head off the side."

"Why?"

Another blow across the face, this time on the other cheek.

"Don't ask, just do."

She needed no more guidance, and immediately he found her in that position. He tossed off his clothes, chucking it all into some odd corner of the bedroom, and looked down at her.

"Mouth open."

She obeyed this time, and her reddened lips (to match her already flushed cheeks) spread wide. He wasted no time and began to thrust his hips into her, literally fucking her mouth with each and every movement. Her eyes opened widely at first, and then closed tightly shut, watering. A few trickles of makeup welled as continued to pound himself into her watering mouth, and he loosened her corset, pulling the top part of it down to get access to her breasts. He pinched a nipple— hard— causing her to yelp.

"Do you like that, Megan? Do you like sucking my dick and having my hands all over you?"

"Mhm," was all she could manage to groan out.

"I want you to touch yourself. Get yourself ready for me. Will you do that for me, miss?"

She pulled herself back from his cock long enough to grin up at him and answer, "oh fuck yeah, Mike."

She went back to work on his dick, her tongue doing a dance along the tip as she pulled aside her panties and rubbed her clit. Her hips bucked up immediately and he could see her wetness dripping down her thighs. Her probing tongue found a rhythm but she began to have a difficult time focusing on him, and so he pulled away. She looked distraught, but that only lasted until he grabbed her by the hair and flipped her onto her back. His hands hungrily went to her panties, and he literally ripped them off, tearing the light fabric at the waist. He hoisted her legs up until her knees were touching her shoulders, grabbed a hold of his throbbing cock, and slid it up and down her wet pussy.

"Do you want it?"

"God, yes, I want it!"

"Who are you talking to? Did you forget my name?"

"No, you

are

God. Fuck me, God!"

"Are you sure? You sure you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes!"

"Whose are you?"

"I'm yours."

"My what?"

"I'm your nasty little whore. You can have me anytime. Just say it, and I'm ready for you. I'll spread my pussy open and you can take me again and again."

Her words got him going even more, and he moved himself right to the point of being inside her.

"Please, GOD! Please just… please fuck me

now!

"

He was more than happy to as he slammed his cock deep inside of her, her wetness letting him in effortlessly. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she moaned out, her hands clenching the bed as he relentlessly hammered his hard cock inside of her— going all the way in and then almost all the way out, leaning down on her at just the right angle so that the base grinded against her clit momentarily each and every time. Her toes clenched and unclenched as she cried out, lost in a torrent of pleasure and pain— his fingers now scratching over her thighs, grabbing them mercilessly enough to leave hand marks.

It was all metal-magnet pull as they went at it, body upon body, their skin touching (or in some cases, her tattered clothes against his flesh) in unison. He ran the tip of his finger up her calf, past her knee, and to her inner thigh, driving her mad. He was so deep inside of her, feeling his width stretching her out and making her cry out. And she was loving every damned minute of it.

After awhile of this, he backed out of her and curled his finger to gesture her to come to him. It took her a moment to regain her senses, but she soon enough got to him, standing in front of their two-door, full-length mirrors.

"Bend over in front of the mirror, you dirty little slut."

"You want me to watch you fuck me?"

"That's exactly what I want."

She bent over and touched the ground with her fingertips, spreading her thighs apart with garters still firmly attached, and curled a hand under to guide him into her. As soon as he was in, he felt her tremble and let out a moan. He pistoned into her, his nails tearing at the flesh on her exposed back and took time out to rear his hand back and smack her ass hard.

"Hell yes, mister. Spank me. I've been a bad girl."

His hand continued its barrage, strike after strike leaving both red marks and Megan even more aroused. He took hold of her arms at the wrist and pulled them taut, holding onto her while he pummeled himself in and out of her dripping wet cunt, the extra leverage letting him go even deeper. Her mouth opened wide as she cried out over and over.

"Do you like that? Do you like me being your little whore?"

"Mhm."

"Do you like fucking me? I've been so bad, Mike. Do you like my tight pussy?"

"Oh yeah, Megan."

"It's all for you. Only you. Oh yes… yes! You are my God. You're so fucking good!"

He drove himself farther into her, feeling her pussy clutch onto him as she thrashed in ecstasy. He slowed his speed down a little bit, to prevent her from coming too quickly, and whispered over her shoulder.

"I want you to go over to the bed with me now and ride my cock. Prove to me how much you love me."

They moved back to the bed and he laid down on his back. Megan straddled him, and without faltering fell upon him, her pussy tightening around him.

"Rub your clit while you do it."

"What? Why?"

He grabbed her by the throat and pulled him down to her, until their noses were touching. He thrust up into her forcefully, and whispered, "don't ask questions, just do it. I own you. Remember?"

"Oooh yes, you own me. You own me, baby. You own me like the dirty little girl I am, huh?"

"That's right. Now show me what you've got."

She bounced up and down on him, fitting every inch into her as she rhythmically moved her hips with his own, thrust matching thrust. She grinded her pussy into him, and then began to rub her clit frantically.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah… God, it feels so incredible, Mike!"

He could feel her getting closer to orgasm, her pussy clenching around his dick like a vice, and her wetness dripping down onto him. She pinched her nipples and bucked her body around on him, her thighs quavering and her back arching ever further.

"I want you to come for me, you little whore." He sank his teeth into her neck with enough force that he tasted blood.

"Yes, yes! You know how I like it!"

"Come for me."

"Oh Michael, I will, I will! Yessss!"

"Come for me

now

." As he said this, he tightened his right hand on her necklace, pulling it with enough force to make it break, the beads dropping down all over the mattress and onto his body. That pushed her over the edge.

Her body tensed, every muscle tightening at the same time. She drew in a sharp breath and then her body loosened and she twitched around.

"Oh God, I'm coming! Oh fuck, I'm coming for you! I'm coming all for you!"

"Keep coming, Megan. Keep coming."

"Fuck baby, I'm still coming. Oh GOD! OH YES!"

She finally collapsed onto him, panting, and looked at him. Her orgasm had been intense, and he was getting closer to reaching that peak himself. He picked her up and turned them over, still inside of her, and began to all-out drill himself into her wet cunt. At this point, any semblance of time was lost as he was caught in a frenzy of their bodies touching and meshing together, with him so deep inside of her.

"OH MIKE! Yes! Fuck me!"

She was still moaning his praises, and he looked at her very matter-of-factly, and whispered, "I'm going to come."

"Oh yes. Come for me! Come for me!"

"Where do you want it?"

"All over me. All over me like you own me!"

The idea triggered a second orgasm, and her legs wrapped around his midsection and she grabbed onto the bed, giving herself an angle to thrust up into him. She looked like a starved animal as she unabashedly pushed off the bed and against him time and time again. Her body undulated under him as she panted from another strong release— this drove him to the edge, and he felt his own building. He ripped her off of him and put a leg on each side of her stomach, his hand firmly on his dick.

"Do you want it?" He smacked her across the face.

"Oh yes! Yes Mike!"

"Do you want my hot come all over you?" He hit her again, and she moaned out.

"Fuck yeah. Come all over me. God, make me yours! Show me that you fucking OWN me."

He saw stars as he felt his come rise up through him and shoot out, hot and sticky, all over her chest, up to her cheeks and her lips. He came for what seemed to be forever, and finally rest on hands and knees on top of her. She looked at him innocently as she ran her digits across her body, collecting his come, and sucked it off her fingertips.

"Mmm… God that was good, Mike."

"…yeah, it was. I need to be late more often."