She's in Charge

Sweat draped my forehead like a curtain by the time we pulled into our driveway. The vibrating cock ring Natalie had placed just below the head of my throbbing cock was doing its job; I wasn't sure how much longer I could stop myself from cuming. I was holding back so far through sheer force of will, but it couldn't be much longer. I sighed in relief when Natalie leaned over and clicked the vibrator off. I glanced down as she removed the ring; my pre cum was running freely, like a runny tap.

She smiled at me, and I smiled back. Her eyes, done up with the faintest shades of green makeup, twinkled at me as she pulled the key to my handcuffs from her little purse. "I didn't think you'd make it all the way home," she admitted. "I was looking forward to punishing you. Not to mention watching your cum spurt out without anyone touching it. That would have been hot. Oh, well, plenty of time." She grinned, and reached for my seatbelt buckle. Her blond tresses brushed against my cock, tickling, as she struggled to free me. It felt good.

"You are unbelievably cruel," I told her. I pointed at myself with a jut of my chin. "I can't believe you did that to me. And you wanted to punish me? Harsh!" I laughed. "What were you going to do, whip me or something?" I chuckled at the thought.

My seatbelt clicked free, and she pulled back a moment, her eyes locked on mine with determination. "Not something," she announced. "Exactly that. Though I did buy a paddle to go with the whip, and I'd like to get some use out of it as well."

I chuckled, but noticed something in her eyes. My god. I think she was serious!

She pushed me forward, and gently started working on my handcuffs. "I should make you run for the house without putting that thing away, for being lippy, mister," she muttered; I kept silent, not sure if she would seriously go through with it. When she finished, I sat back and looked at my cock, and then her. She laughed; "Yes, you can tuck it back in your pants. And hurry up."

She left the car, and started for the house. For the second time that night I struggled to stuff my erection back into my fly, and then darted after her. I met her at the door, noticed one arched eyebrow, and then immediately unlocked and opened the door for her; somehow, I knew that's what she was waiting for. She stepped past me with a smile, but stopped just inside the door. She beckoned me in with a wave of her hand and a beaming smile, so I stepped around her and into the front hallway. She closed the door behind me, locked it, and leaned up against the shut door, facing me.

"Strip," she ordered. Back in the privacy of our home, it was a command I had no issue with at all. I rushed to obey. No sooner than I had finished, she barked another order; "Kneel." I dropped to my knees, my ass resting on my heels, and looked up at her expectantly.

She frowned, but stayed silent; she passed me the handcuffs. Knowing what she meant this time, I quickly snapped them on, locking my wrists behind my back. I glanced up and smiled again, but she only continued to frown. Finally, she snapped, "Is that how your mother taught you to kneel at church? You look like a bum!"

Quickly, I straightened up. Her frown faded, and her beautiful smile returned. "I'm really having fun." She said. "I'm not being too mean, am I?" she answered, out of character.

"No," I answered, meaning it. I was having fun. And I was incredibly turned on by this aggressive side of her. I'm sure it helped that I trusted her completely, and knew it was really just a game, and it would be over eventually. Even if I wasn't sure I wanted it to end. "I don't think I've ever been this horny," I admitted. "Though some of that public stuff at Mario's was pushing it a bit. But yeah," I grinned defiantly, and shook my hips a bit, waggling my hard on at her. "Bring on date night."

Her eyes narrowed. "That was rather disrespectful. You're going to regret that little gesture later, slave. But right now? Seeing you like this has me all horny, baby. You have work to do." She hiked up her dress, and I nearly lost it at the sight; she was leaning back against the door, her shoulder blades resting against the wood. Her hips and pelvis were thrust forward, her legs slightly apart; the heels she must have kicked off as soon as she walked in the door. The slinky black dress was now pulled up around her waist; it seemed I wasn't the only one that hadn't worn underwear to dinner. Her pussy was freshly shaved, and I could see the drops of moisture on her lips. She was biting her lower lip just a bit, and there was a bit of a flush to her pale cheeks. She looked hungry.

I did not need an invitation. I knew what she wanted, and I wanted it too. I could almost smell her from a few feet back. I shuffled forward on my knees, and pressed my face into her bare crotch. I stuck my tongue out, and worked it up and down her slit; above me, I could hear her moan softly. My fists clenched behind me, muscles tensing against the cuffs as I wished I was free; how I wanted to reach around and grab her ass, giving the cheeks a firm squeeze. Her sweet taste flooded my senses, and I closed my eyes as I enjoyed her.

Above me, she let out a long, deep moan. She stuck her pelvis out further, trying to push me in deeper. I knew what she wanted; but I figured it was time I turned the tables, if only a bit. I withdrew my tongue, and pulled back a little. Pursing my lips, I kissed her thigh, just about a hands width away from her now very wet vagina. I kissed again, just a millimeter closer, and again. I led a trail of kisses up her thigh, to the crack of her leg; she made a sound like a purr, and sagged a bit against the door. I trailed my lips along the line that separated her thigh from her pussy, careful that my mouth stayed clear of her lips. Gently, just barely making contact, I brushed my lips against hers; then pulled back when she sighed. I switched my attentions to her other thigh, repeating the pattern. She was panting now, desperate for my touch on her pussy. Her juices were flowing, actually running a bit down the inside of her leg; I reached out with my tongue and snagged a drop, loving the flavor.

I kissed ever closer to her sweet spot, my tongue and lips making gentle trails on her skin, paths along the slopes of her thighs that all led to one revered destination, all the while avoiding her pussy, teasing her like she so enjoyed to tease me. I felt her legs quivering; "Stop teasing me," she moaned from above. I smiled, and planted a quick, soft kiss on her clit, pulling back again; at the contact she let out a sudden quick cry --when I pulled away, she made a sound like a growl and a curse at once.

Suddenly, with another curse and a muttered threat of retribution, she pulled away from my mouth. She pushed me back, and with a hand behind my neck, lowered me to the ground, careful not to hurt my arms, pinned behind me. With her dress still pulled up around her waist, she stood over me, her feet to either side of my head. "You don't get to tease me, mister," she said with a smile, looking down on me, towards my feet. She left me no opportunity to retort; she dropped to her knees, and her dripping pussy made a slapping sound as it collided with my face. Her thighs clamped against the sides of my head, cutting off a lot of sound. Her lips parted, and my nosed prodded between her folds. I stuck my tongue out again, moving it up and down her slit, tilting my head to get better reach. I could hear the muffled sounds of her moans, and I pushed my tongue deeper into her tunnel.

I felt her lean forward, her hands resting on my chest; her clit was now easily within reach. My tongue darted out like a snake, flicking across the sensitive little bud, and I felt her shudder above me. "Yes," she cried. "Oh god YES! Rub my clit!" Slave or not, I had little choice but to obey. My own hips were thrusting up in time to my flickering tongue, my lonely cock hard and throbbing as it waved around in the air, bouncing to my desperate motions --but I didn't spare it a single thought, focusing instead on that burning nest of sweetness, perched precariously on my face. Above me, Natalie cried out; it started as little more than a whimper, one long never ending note that steadily grew in volume and intensity. Her hips started to rock, her pussy rubbing against my lips and tongue; they rocked harder, faster, my tongue now still as her grinding did all the work; her cry had turned into screams.

When she came, her legs clamped even harder; her pussy mashed down into my face, hard, as if she was trying to cover my face entirely with her opening; I couldn't breathe, I could barely hear -but I could feel the spasms running through her thighs like lightening. Could feel her hard little clit against my tongue; I pursed my lips, and gently sucked on the nubbin. Her screams stopped, abruptly, as the orgasm now silently crashed through her. Her juices flooded my face, more than I had ever imagined my wife could produce. I kept sucking gently on her clit, and I could feel her body nearly convulsing.

Finally, she tilted her hips, and the seal between us parted with a wet sound. I felt her hair on my tummy as she leaned forward, her arms across me as she struggled for breath, resting atop of me. I let my own head fall back to the floor, enjoying the view of her flushed pussy and tight little asshole, and took a deep, welcome breath.

We lay like that for long moments; just resting, just enjoying each other. And then I felt her breath on my cock. "Oh my god, that was good," Natalie whispered back at me; she began tracing the underside of my shaft with a fingernail, gently. "I didn't even know I could cum that many times. You are a very good slave, honey."

Still enjoying the view spread before me, I shuddered at her gentle touch. I had to hope that her pleasure might mean some relief for me. "You came more than once? Wow, you were hot. I aim to please, mistress."

I felt as well as heard a soft giggle; "Mistress. I like that, slave boy. For the rest of date night, you will call me Mistress, slave. Got it?" She emphasized the point with a firm squeeze of my cock.

"Yes, mistress," I laughed.

She giggled at my answer. Pleased, she suddenly popped the head of my cock into her mouth. The warm wetness of her mouth, as her tongue swirled around me, was heavenly; I moaned into her ass, and she squirmed a little at my breath on her sensitive bits. Even faster than she had started, she again pulled free. She stood up above me, and made a show of lowering her dress, and then fixing her hair. I could only just stare up at her, desperate. My nostrils where filled with her scent; my cock throbbed with a heartbeat of its own.

"Poor baby," she lamented, her voice dripping sex. "All tied up, and getting no attention, after doing such a good job eating my pussy. I guess you want to get to the bedroom, slave?" I nodded rapidly, and she laughed at the desperate look on my face. She steadied me, and helped me climb to my feet. She took my cock in her hand, and used it like a handle as she started deeper into the house, pulling me along behind her. We passed the stairs, and she looked back at me with a smile; "You wish. I said this is date night. Whoever heard of a dinner without the movie?"

In the living room, she undid my hands, and then sat down on the couch, her feet tucked under her. I started to sit next to her, and she arched an eyebrow, freezing me in place. "Wine, slave. And maybe a drink for yourself."

I mumbled a comment, and she looked at me sharply.

"I guess my new toys are going to get some use after all. I think I had better start keeping track. Let's she..." she held up her hand, and started ticking points off on her fingers. "One just now, for your mumbling -even after I let you get yourself a drink. One for waving your junk at me at the door. That was just rude. Teasing me when I wanted you to fuck me with your tongue, that's worth two. Let's see...you were a bit of a smartass in the car, that's five. Hell, your whole attitude is a bit inappropriate for a slave; let's just call it ten. Ten offenses." She looked at me, grinned at the shocked look on my face, and then made a waving gesture with her hand, dismissing me.

I moved away, and glanced down at my nakedness. Our living room was located near the front of the house, most of the big windows covered by drapes. The kitchen, though, was at the back of the house; I could see two problems. First, I had to pass in front of the big bay window in our dining room to get to the kitchen, and that window was mostly uncovered; second, the kitchen itself included wall to ceiling windows and a glass sliding door, all leading out to our deck. I would be on display for anyone that looked.

"The neighbor's..." I started to protest.

Natalie answered with a disinterested tone; "then run fast. Really fast; I'm thirsty."

I made a dash for it; at least our lights were off, and I couldn't see any activity from the neighbor's house. My hands I kept cupped protectively over my privates; the sound of Natalie laughing followed me into the kitchen. I poured a glass of wine and a big rum and coke for myself, trying to keep myself hidden behind the counter, just in case someone was passing through the woods behind our house. When I was ready, I realized with my hands full I would be unable to hide, or run; I blushed, and moved as quickly as I could back to the living room.

I handed Natalie her wine, and set my drink down on the table. "Put the movie on, please, hon," she asked. She nodded towards the coffee table, where I could see the blue packaging of a rented Blu Ray. She must have rented it that afternoon. I picked it up, and looking at the cover, groaned in dismay; it was a chick flick.

"Problem?" Natalie asked.

"Um, no. No, this is fine. I'll put in on now."

"Hmm. Mistress?" she added. "I believe that is now eleven infractions."

"Sorry, Mistress." I turned, and put on the movie.

The movie was as horrible as I had expected, from the little I actually paid attention to. Something about a girl falling for a guy; the guy had a secret; when she found out, she broke up with him; then they reunited; there had been some kind of misunderstanding, he wasn't such a douche after all; all was forgiven; everyone lived happily ever after. Or maybe that was every other chick flick I had ever been forced to see. But the movie really didn't matter; Natalie made sure I didn't really watch much of it.

As soon as I sat next to her, she put her bare feet in my lap, and smiled at me over the rim of her wine glass. I started rubbing, withholding the sigh I felt. I rubbed her feet for at least twenty minutes, before she had me rub her calves for another twenty --after getting her another wine.

Eventually, she withdrew her feet, and patted the couch next to her. I scooted closer, smiling. She continued to watch her movie, but reached over and idly began playing with my cock; it had softened, likely because of the horrible movie, but quickly hardened at her touch. I closed my eyes, and laced my hands behind my head, just enjoying her touch.

She started by coating my cock and balls with baby oil, getting everything nice and slick. Then she was gently kneading it; her hand just softly squeezing and releasing, with a bit of caressing, as if she was playing with a stress ball. Her hand occasionally dropped lower, cupping my balls. She rolled them in her palm, lifting them a little against gravity, even bouncing them a softly in her hand. For at least ten minutes, she gently ran her finger up and down the shaft, the lightest touch, just her fingertip. I was moaning, leaking, and begging for more.

Her hand tightened on the base of my shaft. "Mmmm..." I moaned, enjoying her grip. Slowly, so slowly, her hand moved upward, her grip tight enough that I could feel my skin tugged despite the lubrication. Upward it went, almost too slow. I was arching my hips upwards, trying to force her hand faster, to no avail. The circle made by her thumb and forefinger reached just below my head, and her motion slowed even more, stopping just short. I groaned, and my hips bucked slightly. Suddenly, her hand jumped into motion; on screen, someone was crying, and I couldn't care less. Her hand was a blur, focusing only on my head, her well lubricated grip like a tight little vagina, pumping rapidly on the head of my throbbing cock. I felt my hips turn, my back arch, as my whole body willed for more, trying to force myself up into that one small point of contact.

She let go again, and my hips thrust as if I was on top of her, pounding away, but my cock tasted nothing but air. I cried out, a wailing, pathetic sound, and my eyes opened to stare at my cock; I would swear I could actually see it throbbing, pulsating.

"My hand is tired," Natalie said next to me, focusing on the movie. She was wiping her hands off with a paper towel, a good sign she was done. She finished, and handed me the roll of paper towels; "Clean yourself up. That stuff will stain the couch."

I almost felt like crying. This kind of torture was inhumane. But I cleaned myself up without protest, and handed the roll back to Natalie. "God," she said, turning to look at me. "You would not believe how horny I am, and I just came a bunch like an hour ago. This is so hot, we should have done this years ago." She opened her legs, her skirt again pulling up around her waist, and let herself sink into the couch, shifting forward so her ass was on the edge and her feet were on the floor. "Eat me."

There it was; it didn't matter how horny I was. I could only cum once, and I would be out of commission for at least an hour or two. But she could cum infinitely; something she had never had much interest in. Now, though, she was insatiable. A sex machine. She was constantly aroused, which means I was too. I realized then; I would go as long as she wanted without cuming, if it turned her on this much. I loved it.

Eagerly, I dropped to my knees on the floor, between her thighs. I looked up at her, from between her smooth, milky thighs, and said "I love you, hon."

She smiled, and reached forward to push my face into her sopping wet pussy. As I started to lick, I heard her comment; "That's Mistress to you, slave. Twelve infractions. And I love you too."