Items are swapped, moans became groans. She knew that in their cabinet was a range of items, whips and crops, floggers and toys of play and mirth. And now she was beginning to feel the edges of her pain. Though, he knew her body so well, that when it became a little too much, he would intermittently stop, and would instead run his hand over her, and sought out her soft, wet centre. Caresses and touch, to sooth and placate her. When she yelped, his hands would sooth where they just hurt. When she screamed, his cajoling voice was in her ear, whispering what sounded like black magic, for all she could understand.
Time blurred. Words blurred. Feeling merged. Time stopped. No, incorrect. The spankings had stopped.
They stood surrounded by discarded instruments and toys. Now it was time for flesh and touch. His fingers easily slid deep inside her. With her faced down, he twisted his fingers, and pat and stroked over her g-spot. Softly at first, but as her juices ran down his arm, he pressed more intensely into her spots, until she gripped his hands with her inner thighs, uselessly. He kicked her ankle and pushed her legs far apart and intensified his fingering. There, that was what he was seeking and waiting for, it wasn't far away. He felt her shudder, and her juicy hole gushed all over his wrist, and splashed the floor.
She was in a mess of feelings and emotions, and waited for him to fuck her pussy. Instead she felt him withdraw the butt plug, and smeared her ass hole, with her pussy's drippy, wet mess.
Her arse resisted, only a little, and only for a short time, as she adjusted to the size of him entering her. Soon and eagerly she relaxed and pushed back against him.
His cock sunk into her. And now it was his moans that filled the space.
Their mutual need was intense. He filled her with cock and lust, and it was bordering on too hard, and too much, for her. But, she was such a messy blur, that all she could do was push back against him, achingly and hungry for him.
Edges were reached. He needed the deep gaze of her eyes, to push him over the edge.
He roughly handled her. She was useless in his arms, and he easily manoeuvred her onto her back, with her arms awkward stuck behind her. Her comfort didn't matter right now, she was so thoroughly fucked.
He rammed pulled her knees up, so they slung heavy over his shoulders, easily sunk into her loosened hole, and filled her. His eyes so hungry for her, he drank in the sight, sound and feel of her.
He noticed a smear of red over her lower abdomen, but at this point he was lost, and as he howled in the sweet release of his orgasm, a realisation suddenly hits him.
There, scratched into the soft, white skin of her abdomen, were three blood-red letters: I O U.
