Author's note: This story contains switching in which the man moves his cock from the woman's ass back to her pussy. I hope all of the readers know that this carries a risk of infection, and that this story is not meant to encourage anyone to indulge in the described activities.
*****
I'm wiping the sink clean with the sponge, moving it back and forth over the scratched white porcelain when he approaches and sets down a stack of dishes on the counter-top.
I sigh.
"Where did these come from?" I ask with more scorn in my voice than I intend.
"From the office," he tells me, slapping my bottom playfully.
"Can you not?" I respond. Trying to repress my frustration I ask, "have you called the repairman about the dishwasher yet?"
"No. I've been working all day," he responds with frustration of his own.
Placing the dishes down loudly in the sink, I turn the faucet off and remove my gloves, putting them over the edge of the sink. My exasperation is clear. I turn to walk to the living room but his body blocks me.
He leans in and puts his lips against my ear, whispering in a firm tone, "Bedroom. Now!"
A familiar shiver washes over me. "I don't want to do this now," I think to myself, but then the feel of his warm breath on my ear calms me, and claims me.
"Yes Sir."
* * * * *
"Stand." His tone is flat. He steps behind me as I pull myself from my knees to my feet. Placing his hand on my waist, lips softly against my ear once more, "You may think you're in charge out there, but in here you are mine. Do you understand?"
I open my mouth, needing to explain why I'm angry, to go over how many times I've asked him, to defend myself; but the only words that come are, "Yes Sir".
"On the bed."
I climb onto the bed, getting on my hands and knees, but he tugs at my foot, pulling me flat. He twists my ankle, forcing me to turn with his hand, putting my back against the bed. Reaching for my hands he places one atop of the other, putting them both at the top of my head before sliding a thin pillow beneath my neck, and pulling my ankles apart.
"You will be very still. I'm not going to restrain you. You're going to do this for me all on your own," he explains while picking up a wine glass from the bedside table. My mind races wondering what he plans to do with me, and if I will manage to keep myself still.
He picks up the glass, the wine within a deep maroon, and takes a sip, swallowing slowly. It looks delicious. He takes another small sip, but this time doesn't swallow. Coming to the bed and hovering over me I feel him spill the warm wine into the dimple of my belly button. I take a deep breath, processing the sensation, careful not to move, my mind focused intently on obedience.
"Don't spill," he warns.
He steps around to the foot of the bed, and moments later I feel him. His breath is warm on my lips, and then the soft, wet flesh of his tongue runs up my folds, pushing them open. I breathe deeply, deliberately taking the breath into my chest. Looking down between my breast to my bellybutton I'm barely able to glimpse the pool of liquid collected there. His tongue runs over my lips again, and again, and once more before it settles on my clit. He sucks gently, running his tongue in circles around it.
I close my eyes and sigh, "ahh, that feels so good". I lay my head back against the pillow, but as I do I feel something pushing at my entrance. A finger I realize. My eyes remain closed as it slips easily inside of me.