Welcome Home

Fantasy. My boyfriend and I are switches, but we haven't got quite this far yet. But we will!

*

I checked my phone again. Still no more texts, not since the last one, which was a couple of hours ago. It had said that the traffic was crap, a combination of snow and road works, so he was likely to be even later. It was nearly eleven o'clock now. I was in my pajamas, ready to go to bed as soon as he was here. I wore small pink shorts, woolly socks and a t-shirt.

Eventually, I completely gave up waiting patiently, trying to distract myself. I made up Horlicks, your favourite evening drink, and put it in the microwave, timer set, and positioned myself on the kitchen worktop, knees drawn up to my body. It pulled my shorts tight against my pussy, further accentuating how much I had missed you. I gazed out the window, waiting for the headlights.

I was asleep, slumped against the cold glass, when the bright white light hit my face. Alex was home! I woke with a start, instantly wide awake. I leaped off the counter and ran out the door, stabbing the start button on the microwave on the way past. I didn't even bother putting my shoes on.

I sprinted down the pathway to the car, and as I saw the driver door open I put on an extra burst. He was about to get out when I plonked myself in his lap and threw my arms around him. It was almost completely dark out here it the car.

"Hello, missed you too," he said, sitting back again. He couldn't get out until I moved, and after not seeing him for so long I was in need of a hug. Then, "Skylar?"

"Yeah?" my voice was muffled against his chest.

"Are you smelling me?"

"No! ...well maybe a bit. But you smell good, and I missed it," I explained, knowing he would think it was weird but humor me as per usual. It's true though, he smelled great to me. Sort of relaxing and familiar. It was also a very sexy smell, but I knew full well he had had a rough, tiring journey, and probably wouldn't be interested... Still, there was tomorrow morning. Neither of us had to go anywhere, so we could do what we wanted all morning. I shivered with excitement. I had REALLY missed him.

"You cold?"

I looked up at him.

"Nah I'm alright," I said, kissing his jaw ever so lightly. He looked down and kissed me, slowly. I almost melted into him as he let his tongue touch my lips. I was trying to be gentle, whilst at the same time I wanted him to know just how much I had missed him. Then he pulled away again, all too soon.

I shivered again, from the cold this time. The winter air was sharp, and I hadn't much on.

"Come on, you are cold. Let's go in it'll be warmer in there," he said. I hopped off his lap, he grabbed his bag from the passenger seat and inside we went.

We trooped in, he dumped his things and fell on to the sofa. I pulled his Horlicks out of the microwave and followed. I couldn't be bothered to switch any lights on, but the TV was on from when I was watching it earlier.

"Thanks," he said tiredly as I gave it to him. In the light, I could see how knackered he was. He needed a hug and lots of sleep...and a surprise in the morning, if I woke before he did. I made myself busy pulling his boots off and left them on the floor.

For half an hour or so, we both curled up on the sofa. He had Horlicks in one hand and the other was over my shoulder. No one said anything, and I can't for the life of me remember what was on the TV. We needed to go to bed, but now I was settled I didn't really feel like getting up again. I think he was the same, so we stayed put.

Next time I woke up, we were stretched the full length of the sofa, Alex's arm wrapped around my waist. He was fast asleep, curled against me. I could feel his cock in his jeans pressing against me. Still half asleep, I pushed back onto him without even thinking about it. I heard a small, subconscious moan by my ear and smiled. I turned to face him carefully, all the excitement I tried not to feel when he first got home rising up in me. I felt brave, which is dangerous after a dry spell.

Fuck it, I was gonna disturb his sleep anyway, and he was gonna like it, I thought, pressing my palm against the thick, hot hardness. He began grinding himself against my hand, rocking his hips. I studied his face. His eyelids were flickering, and his lips were parted. I kissed him hard and he responded instantly, his tongue running along my lips and demanding to be let in. I complied and his tongue explored my mouth. I sucked on it gently. I wanted him to wake up and know how hot I was and how much I wanted him and missed him and... He pulled away, and I saw his eyes were open at last. I squeezed his cock.

"Lie on your back," he told me, and I did as he said. He slid over the top of me and kept grinding hard. One hand took root in my hair and the other held the back of my neck, holding my head to him. He was going so hard it hurt, but even so I couldn't help spreading my legs for him. I held onto him, touching all the bits of him I could reach. I tried to kiss him, but instead of kissing back he dipped his head to my neck. I could feel his breath hot on my neck, and moaned as he bit down, first gently, but harder as I squirmed. He knows all my favourite teases. I tilted my head back, reveling in the pointed, tickling feeling. He could've done whatever he wanted to me and I probably wouldn't have cared, wound up and wet as I was.

He seemed to know this and suddenly got up. First I was disappointed, missing his lips and hands and cock instantly. Then he started pulling clothes off purposefully and I followed suit as quickly as I could.

"Hands and knees," he told me, leaving no room for argument. I hurried to do as he said -- he had finished undressing before me and was waiting, cock in his hand, stroking lazily.

I positioned myself, holding onto the back of the sofa. I was very, very exposed, but too horny to really care. He rubbed his cock along my slit, covering himself in the dripping wetness. Without any warning, he entered me in one easy thrust. I breathed a sigh of relief, shaking ever so slightly, but I still wanted more. I could feel his thighs pressed against my ass, but I was still pushing back for more. He obliged and drove himself deeper still inside me. He went deep enough to hurt, making me gasp involuntarily, but I loved it. I was full of cock, as far as I could go. But I still wanted.

He pulled out, ever so slowly. Then he slid back in, seemingly even slower than before. He did it again, and again, and again. I felt every bit of him as he pumped in and out slowly. I was breathing deeper and faster, trying to control myself. He did get faster -- not that I noticed, because I always wanted him faster -- steadily, unstoppably, until he was hammering in and out, machine like.

By this time I was so sex hazed I ignored it when he stopped, unable to do anything but keep rocking myself back and forth on his dick.

"Stop."

I ignored him. It was his stupid fault for stopping in the first place, and so what if I got into trouble? I had all I needed right here.

He stepped back, pulling himself out and away from me. I rocked backwards again anyway, just in case, but he was well out of my reach. Shit, I thought. I wanted that back, preferably as soon as possible.

"I said stop. Did you not hear me, or were you just ignoring me?" he asked. We both knew the answer. I waited in the tense silence, wondering what would happen to me.

He stroked my arse gently for a few seconds, and I could feel him examining me, scrutinizing me. I had the sinking feeling he was planning something. Stepped away again.

"Give me your hands," he commanded, his voice low and almost indifferent.

I held them back for him, and visibly shivered as he belted them together. I hadn't known his belt had extra holes that far along: if I had I might've been more wary. Especially as unlike bonds he had used before, there was no way I could escape from these, even if I tried. Now he used my hands to control me, pulling me backwards onto his thick cock by the belt. He had always been a little too big for me, and it was difficult to adjust myself to it in my awkward position.

He started fucking me again, holding onto the belt like reins. He seemed to be balancing himself with it as much as keeping me in check, and I felt it, aching from my neck, across my shoulders and all the way down my back and thighs. On the upside, the position was far more comfortable if I spread my legs more and arched my back, presenting myself to him as a complete slut. This was more or less true.

His thrusts were long and full and probably great for him, but he had chosen a speed that kept me just simmering. He gave me enough to keep me wanting more but didn't let me disappear off into one of those states where I didn't know and didn't care what was happening so long as it kept going.

"Count them," he ordered. Before I had time to ask what, his hand swung down and landed on my arse. My whole body jumped and as I moaned I felt myself squeeze hard around his cock, which still pumped away, kept me simmering... "One Sir," The second one came down with a sharp slap. This one stung, it was harder, and instead of getting a less pleasurable reaction it got more. "Two Sir," I panted, rolling my hips towards the third. The fourth and fifth came down in the same manner, and my then my arse felt hot and sensitive. But no lasting damage I knew, and more importantly I craved the feeling.

"Please, I want them harder!" I cried. The words were out before I even knew I was going to say them.

"Harder, slut? Since when did you get an opinion? Still, if that's what you want...perhaps I should give it to you," he said, his voice low and dangerous. I didn't say anything, thinking it the safer option. I was in deep shit now.

He jerked my bound hands upwards roughly, forcing my head down onto the sofa with my knees. I felt the belt come off, but I held still. It was clear he put me here for a reason. He stepped away from me and I felt momentarily confused.

Suddenly, a very frightening idea struck me. He was going to use the --

It hits. My whole body recoiled, and the pain fired through me like a jolt of electricity. I breathed hard and fast, shuddering and moaning. I would not cry. Could not. Buried my face in the sofa and rocked back and forth, trying to do something to lessen the pain. I could feel the stripe across my cheeks, and the pain radiated out from it, deep and penetrating.

As I slowly regained control, something else came over me: a sort of elation. I had taken it, and it bloody hurt more than anything I had ever experienced, but I took it. I felt a little bit brave. It occurred to me that that was quite dangerous. Alex was stood behind me, waiting.

"Another one," I said, my voice croaky.

"As you wish," he responded, completely blank. That hurt a little bit, I wanted him to make sure I was ok. Not that I really deserved it, I was in this position because I didn't listen to him. I readied myself. There was no way this could be as bad as the first one.

Or perhaps it could. He let it fall directly over the first, but from the other direction, and this one was harder than the last. My resolve shattered as it ripped through me, laying waste to any ideas that I could take it. I couldn't. I howled into the cushions, teeth gritted. Burning hot tears escaped, joining the sweat on my damp forehead. I shuddered and shook, my eyes tight shut and my fists clenched. It would stop, it would fade, I knew. I simply had to hold on.

He placed his hand on my lower back. Tensed up, cat like, I jumped out of my skin at the touch. I made an effort to relax as he pushed it up my back firmly, and then lightly trailed his fingertips down. Again, and again, and again... I focused on it, and slowly the pain left, replaced once again with elation. I didn't let it get ahead of me this time. He stopped. I opened my eyes and looked back between my legs. I could see the doubled up belt hanging from one hand. He guessed where I was looking.

"No more of that tonight," he put the belt down next to me to show it, "are you feeling less cocky now?" he asked quietly. He remained calm as ever, but his voice no longer had the scary hard edge to it.

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry Sir." I said meekly, as his hand returned, this time at my pussy. A finger slipped inside.

"Are you ready to continue now?" I watched a second finger slip in with the first, and he began to fuck me slowly with them. I could see his other hand stroking his cock. It was very red and his balls were tight. I wondered if his hand had been there the entire time.

"Yes Sir. Please keep going," I mumbled. He was curling his fingers round in a way that he knew made me go jelly-like. I loved that so much.

They left, replaced quickly with his cock. I welcomed it, glad to be full up once more. I moaned, ignoring the pain as he pressed against my cheeks, which felt like they were burning. He drove himself balls deep into me again and again and again, this time completely out of control. I kept making involuntary noises of pure pleasure, spreading my legs further for him and squeezing him with my pussy. I wanted him to cum, wanted him to feel as good as I did. The long thrusts weren't fast enough, and he resorted to short, sharp stabs that dug him deep inside me, making me cry out with more pleasure than any real pain. I took advantage of this and reached back to play with his balls. I rubbed the base of his hard cock as he fucked me, feeling how he was covered in my wetness. I knew he was close, and as he tipped over the edge, he fucked hard enough to nearly push me over. I tried my hardest to hold still for him, the muscles in my pussy clenching and relaxing around his cock as he slowly came to a halt inside me.

He put his knees up on the sofa either side of mine, and then he slumped over onto my back. I was leaning on the back of the sofa again.

We stayed that way for what felt like a very long time, lying on one another. I could feel his heartbeat against my back, hammering away. I felt it slow, and then settle back to its normal rate. Breathing slowed. His head rested on my shoulder next to mine. Everything was calm, quiet and full of love. I always wanted these moments to be endless.

But, as always, real life returned. I began to notice all my funny little aches and pains, sore knees, shaking legs, and the possibility that I may not be able to sit for several days. That and an hour with my head at a funny angle asleep on the sofa.

"You ok?" he asked, detaching himself.

"I'm knackered. How about you?" I stretched, trying to work out the kinks I had gained from my assorted difficult positions.

"More knackered than you are. Come on, we need to go to bed," he said, holding out a hand.

"How do I look?" I asked, as we got to the foot of the stairs.

"You go up ahead of me and I'll tell you," he said, nudging me ahead of him. "Well, you have two glaring stripes, and it's bruised quite a lot. But the skin isn't broken anywhere,"

"Alright. You're gonna have to be very, very nice to my bottom for a few days." I warned him.

"Course I will. Do you want to do that again?" he asked.

"Alex! That isn't being nice to my bottom. When I said that I meant it needed to recover."

"I didn't mean soon. Is that a no then?" By this point we were in our room.

"No it isn't! I loved that," I told him, trying to sound enthusiastic through yawns.

"Great. Time for bed."

"I agree."

We climbed in -- me rather gingerly -- and he leaned over for a kiss. It was a careful, tender sort of kiss. After that, we were asleep in about a minute.