Laundry Day 23

Tuesday is laundry day since I am usually off work. I am sitting on the couch surrounded by piles of the clothes that I am folding when he walks in.

"Hey! You're home early! Oh, what's wrong?" He just looks at me as he sets down his gear. He has the look of a man who has had a rough day.

"It's been a day," he says. "What is all this?" He gestures at the laundry piles.

"Oh," I say, "I am trying to finish this up."

He comes over to stand in front of me, looking down. Just his nearness affects me. He reaches down to wrap his hands in my hair, forcing me to crane my head up to look at him. My breathing instantly quickens; my skin flushes with desire. I stare expectantly up at him, body still, waiting.

"I'm going to shower. Have this cleaned up before I get out."

He runs his thumb along my lower lip, then trails his fingers down my throat, before releasing me and walking away.

I immediately rush through folding the last of the clothes, listening to the shower water run. The clothes are sorted and folded, and I have begun moving the piles into the bedroom when I hear the water shut off. Shit, I am out of time! Quickly, I try to get the last of the clothes off the couch into the room, when he walks out, towel around his waist and droplets of water on his meaty shoulders. I am distracted for a moment. He is tall, with massive shoulders, barrel chest, giant quads. He makes me laugh, which is how we became friends. He exudes sex, which is how we became lovers. He makes me feel small and submissive, which is how I came to be staring at him with tense, lustful anticipation as he looks from me to the clothes still on the couch.

"You didn't finish."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you would be home so early." I am not sure where he is going with this. He isn't overly concerned with things like laundry, but he is obviously playing at something. "If you give me a minute I will have it cleared away."

"No," he says, shaking his head and stepping towards me, "I'm sorry isn't good enough." He is standing in front of me now. "Show me how sorry you are."

He places his hand on my shoulder and pushes downward. I instinctively obey the light touch, dropping to my knees at his feet. He pulls the towel from his waist and tosses it onto the sofa. I stare at him, naked and powerful. His thick cock is inches from my face and growing thicker as I stare at him. I love giving head. I want to suck into my mouth immediately, but force myself to slow down and savor him.

I run my hands up the rock-hard tree trunk thighs, caressing the muscles. At his hips, my hands wrap around to his ass. I pull my face closer to his cock, and kiss the crease of his groin, looking up into his eyes. I kiss lower, right next his sac, inhaling the clean, male scent of him. I nip gently at the tender skin just adjacent to his cock. With each kiss, each nibble, I look up and whisper, "I'm sorry." His hand pets my hair. With one hand, I cup his balls as I lick my way up his cock from the base to the tip. I love the feel of him against my lips. When I get to the tip, I look him in the eyes once more, whisper "Forgive me" and pull his thick, hot head into my mouth. I close my eyes now and focus on the sensation of his satiny skin over hard flesh against my tongue and cheeks. I suck him deeper into my mouth, fighting the width of him. Like the rest of him, his cock is big, thick. Too thick for me to easily take down my throat. My head bobs as I stroke him. Time passes as I worship his cock with my mouth, hand rolling and squeezing his balls, nails digging into his ass cheek.

I savor his sounds of pleasure, his hand resting on the crown of my head. When I feel his hand wrap into my hair, I suck in a breath before he shoves my face over his cock, forcing himself deeper into my mouth. He controls the rhythm. I submit to his control, fighting to keep my breath between strokes. He face fucks me a few more strokes, then pulls my head from his dick and aims my lips toward his balls. Taking my cue, I gently suck his sac into my mouth. He strokes his cock as I bathe his balls with my adoring tongue. When he moves his hand to angle the head of his cock at my face I take it into my mouth again, groaning in pleasure at being allowed to suck him again. One of my hands slides into my shorts and between my thighs. My fingers slide along my slippery wet lips and circle my clit. I whimper in pleasure.

Suddenly, his hand is back in my hair and he is pulling me to my feet. I whimper at being forced away from his cock. My hand falls to my side, fingers shiny with my own wetness. He takes my hand and holds it between us. I look from it and his face.

"You appear to be enjoying this apology a bit too much." He backs up to the large arm chair behind him and sits down. "I don't think you are very apologetic at all. I think I need to change that." He releases my head and sits in the chair. I stand still, waiting and uncertain.

"Take off your shorts." I unbutton my shorts and slid them over my hips and down to the ground. I am standing in a tank top and boy short undies. My hips are wide, and the panties tend to ride high, creeping between my cheeks and showing the lower half of my large, round ass. I can feel my wetness making a spot between my thighs. He holds a hand out to me and I take it. His hand guides me to stand next to his thighs on one side. He pulls my panties down to my thighs. Then, he pats his own thighs, indicating that I should lay across his lap.

"I think you need punished." I shiver as he cups my cheek in his big hand. He runs his hand over my ass, fingers trailing along my crack. He follows it down to my slit. His fingers slide between my lips.

"You were definitely enjoying that."

"Yes" I whisper.

When his hand contacts my ass squeak in pain. I expected it. The weight of it still took me by surprise. The second blow comes quickly. And the third. He continues his spanking, spreading it out across my ass, heating it everywhere. I squirm and fight to not pull away. Then he caresses me, petting over the hot hand prints. His hand moves between my thighs. He presses them apart and I willingly spread wider for him. My hips rock as he rolls my clit between his fingers. His other hand moves from its resting place across my hips to tease the heat on my ass. He spreads my cheeks apart, forcing me open and vulnerable. I shiver with the sensation, letting loose a moan of greedy pleasure at his exploration.

So lost am I that when his hand slams down with a wet thud across my pussy I gasp at the shock of it. And another blow, crossing over the tender crease between ass and thigh as well as my swollen, aching lips. I hear him chuckle. More strikes, each on my most tender places. I grip his legs with my hands, just short of digging in my nails. I start to try to squirm away.

"Now I think you might be feeling a bit sorry." He says, amusement in his voice. I am panting. It is a mixture of pain and lust that happens for me, when the two sensations dance together and blend so beautifully.

"Yes," I gasp, "I am sorry." He caresses the wildly sensitive flesh of my sex and I arch toward him.

"What are you sorry for?" He takes on lip to pinch and stretch.

"I am sorry that I did not finish the laundry. I am sorry that I disappointed you." My voice has an edge of strain to it.

"That sounds far more sincere," he states approvingly. "Just to makes sure though..." He delivers a half dozen more solid strikes, spread over my ass, thighs, and labia. The slaps are quicker, with no pause for a caress. My breathing fast as each blow draws a sharper intake. I clutch his ankles and fight against crying out in pain.

And then he stops. His hands are gentle as he guides me to sit up. My chest lifts from his thighs and I sit back, not quite onto my heels. He smooths my hair away from my face, and I lean my head into his hand. He allows me to rest my cheek on his thigh while he strokes my head. I feel peaceful. My eyes half close as I wait on his desire.

After few moments, a subtle shift of his hips draws my focus to his heavy erection. I lift my head and bring a hand to brush my knuckles along the length of his shaft. I watch it twitch slightly when my fingers gently manipulate the head of it. I wrap my hand around him and stroke his length. Lifting my gaze to meet his eyes, I lick my lips.

"May I suck you again, please?" I ask. He nods his head and shifts his hips in invitation.

I move around his knees so that I can slide between his thighs again.

"Take off your shirt." He demands. I sit back on my heels again, gently, and slowly lift the tank top over my head. I am not wearing a bra. I often don't when I am home. My breasts are naturally large, and while the pull of time and gravity makes them hang heavy on my chest, they thrust tight and proud with hard nipples pointing toward my lover. As I slide my hands back along his thighs to resume my worship of his cock, he reaches down to pinch and pull at a nipple. I arch my back to allow him easier access. My hand glides along his cock. Using my nipple, he pulls me forward, releasing me when my face is near the swollen tip. I lick the droplet of precum away. I graze my lips across the ridge between head and shaft. Slowly, adoringly, I explore the silky flesh with my lips as I pull him into my mouth.

I use my mouth, tongue and cheeks to worship the hard length of his cock. I fight to take him into my throat. It always frustrates me that he is so thick, my mouth so small, that I cannot get him fully inside. I keep trying. I savor the shape and taste of him. One hand rolls his balls gently. The other wraps around the base of his cock, as I begin rhythmically sliding my mouth over his shaft. My hand matches the pace, stroking in time to my sucking. His sounds of pleasure encourage, delight me. I feel the tension building in his body. I am preparing to swallow him down when I feel him lift my head away from him by a handful of hair. I can't help the disappointed sound that escapes me.

"Stand up." I obey. "Kneel on the ottoman" It is large, with a padded top, meant to be used by the entire couch. I kneel on it, facing away from him, knees set wide apart.

"On your elbows." I obey without hesitation. The position puts my ass high in the air, pussy open and exposed. I feel cool air touching the hot, wet flesh and shudder. I hear his weight shift in the chair behind me, but I don't look back. I wonder how red my ass is still, how many hand prints can he see. I feel his eyes on my exposed sex.

"Reach back and spread your ass for me." I turn my head so my weight can rest on my shoulders. Reaching behind me, I take an ass cheek in each hand and notice how hot my skin still feels warm from my spanking. I pull my cheeks apart, exposing my asshole to his view. I feel my pussy spread wider as well. I shiver in anticipation. I feel my cunt clench and throb as I wait for his touch, as I wait to feel him stretching me open.

I hear him move out of the chair to stand behind me. When he glides his fingers along my wet pussy I moan my pleasure. I feel him rolling his fingers around in my wetness, then sliding deep inside my aching hole. I inhale sharply, fighting to stay still when my body wants to shove back onto those fingers and take him deeper. He trails the now dripping wet fingers across my taint and up to circle my asshole. He presses against it with his fingertips, but does not quite slide into me. I whimper in frustration.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He asks with a chuckle. His hand is on my clit now, and my hips are rocking against him.

"Yes, please."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me. Please let me feel your cock stretching me open. Please let me pleasure you with my body. Please, please bury your cock inside me." The words keep pouring out between gasps and pants. His hands play at my clit, my lips. They slide inside my pussy to pump in and out of me. They twirl around my asshole, pushing against it and spreading me open for him. My hips strain and rock as my orgasm is building. He has me so close, but isn't quite pushing me over that edge. I groan in frustration. "PLEASE!" I cry out.

"Where? Where do you want me?"

"Inside me!" I cry, demanding and frustrated.

I am rewarded with a sharp crack on the ass. My pain/pleasure wires are all mixed up now, so my gasp could be either.

"Where do you want my cock? Here," his fingers circle the opening of my cunt, "or here?" His fingers circle my asshole.

"Yes! Both! Just inside me. Please. I need to feel you."

He slaps my ass again, making me whimper with lust. And then he is fully inside me. It is overwhelming, the sudden fullness of my pussy. So thick, he stretches me wide in one hard deep thrust and it is too much. A sound escapes me that is somewhere between a moan and a scream. Too much...and not enough. I pull my hips away from him so that I can shove myself back over him again, stroking him with my body. The impact of his initial thrust caused my hands to fall to the cushion, forced to help support my weight against his invasion. I dig my nails into the padding as he slams back into me. Over and over he stretches me. I feel his balls slam against me as he buries himself fully. My body shakes. The orgasm that is threatening to explode within me makes my skin tingle and flush.

"Please, May I cum?" I gasp the words.

"Yes"

My body shakes and clenches. I rock against him and lose myself in the pulsing release as he pounds his cock into me. I can no longer move. My body sags as the orgasm rocks through me, steals my breath, throbbing, overwhelming. Still he is inside me, rock hard, holding my hips up with his strong hands.

As I slowly return shuddering and gasping to reality, I feel his fingers digging into my hips.

"Better?" He asks. As I nod as shudder rolls through me, causing me to clench around his dick again. "Good."

He pulls slowly out of me and a whimper in protest. He guides the fat head of his cock up my gaping, soaking wet slit until it rests against my asshole. Renewed need spikes through me. He is so large, it is a struggle every time. But, how I love the feel of him stretching my ass to its limit. It overwhelms my body and brain.

"Yes. Please. Please shove your giant cock into my asshole." I gasp. I mean it too. I force myself to breath, to relax. I must submit to it for this to work. He is too big for me to fight it. I find that space in my head where submission and opening to him is the only option. I imagine him stepping back and not completing the act and I whimper with fear. I need this now. I need him inside my asshole.

"Please," I whimper again, and I bring my hands back to spread my cheeks again. An invitation. A demand. He does not deny me and I cry out in pleasure as he begins firmly pressing into me, penetrating the tight ring of my anus. So large. I force myself to fight against my body's natural desire to clench and deny the invasion. I breathe and relax. I am rewarded by his groan of pleasure as the head of his cock rests fully inside my ass. I feel my pussy spasm in delight. I relax more and press my hips back in invitation to slide in deeper. He obliges, pushing himself into me a few more inches before withdrawing that same length. Each stroke takes him deeper inside me. Each stroke takes me closer to that edge again.

"Play with your clit." He demands. I eagerly obey. Nothing is better than an orgasm with him balls deep in my ass. As my fingers play in circles around my clit he increases his rhythm. Faster, longer, harder strokes take away my breath. He is slamming into me now, no regard for his size stretching my asshole wide. I scream out as orgasms begin rolling over me, wave after wave, shoving my hips back to take him into my asshole even harder, my own hot wetness squirting across my hand and onto the ottoman I kneel on. I am shaking and nearly incoherent when I feel his rhythm falter. With a loud groan of release he buries himself fully one last time and I feel his orgasm pulsing inside me.

I collapse onto my shoulders, ass in the air, still full of his cock. Aftershocks shudder through me. I struggle to not fall completely; I will not be the one that breaks off the contact. He is leaning his weight on me. His hips rest against my ass. With a final caress of my hip, he steps back pulling out of me, and sits heavily on the chair again. I shudder again at the withdrawal, shivers of residual pleasure tickling over me.

I allow my hips to fall so that I can curl into a loose ball on the ottoman. I know I need to get up and clean myself soon, but I take a moment to recover. I am raw, aching, and completely relaxed. After a bit, I look back at him. His head is resting on the back of the chair, arms along the chair's plush arms, thighs wide and relaxed. He appears completely satiated, and I feel content. I let him rest as I slowly find my feet and take myself off to the bathroom to clean up.

When I return, I bring him a glass of water. He smiles at me and says, "Apology accepted."