Close to the Edge

"Our first anniversary, already" Kyle sounds surprised, "we should do something special to celebrate."

"How about that hotel we've driven past a few times recently?" Claire answers instantly, clearly having anticipated this suggestion.

"The former stately home, sure to be expensive."

"I'm not worth it?" She looks offended.

"Of course," he hastily reassures her, "but given our busy lives we could only stay one night."

"Better make it memorable then," a wicked gleam in her eye, inventive imagination already going into overdrive.

The luxurious hotel room exceeds their expectations and on the eagerly anticipated day, Claire sits in a chair directly facing her man, skirt lifted, legs blatantly open. One foot on the seat, hands between her thighs, slowly and sensuously masturbating, initially over her panties, a damp patch of incipient excitement gradually turning the filmy material translucent, exposing the ghost of lust-engorged labia.

Kyle observes silently, transfixed by the erotic display. Sips a glass of red and idly wonders what a sommelier might suggest as the best vintage to accompany your partner's sex play.

Completely unabashed at the spectacle she presents, Claire unblinkingly returns his gaze. Flicks back her wavy auburn locks, mouth slightly open, breath quickening, increasingly aroused. Simultaneously excited by both her lewd exposure and adept fingering, she slides the diaphanous knickers down to her knees, affording her deft digits easier access. Dips them into her beckoning honeypot; pace increasing, squirming agitatedly as her pleasure intensifies.

"You can't come yet," Kyle instructs as Claire's sexual agitation becomes ever more acute. She regards him with a petulant expression, disappointed and frustrated, taken to the edge, teetering on the brink, fulfilment momentarily denied.

"Stand up, show me your breasts," Kyle instructs, deliberate objectification, she's his to toy with at will. Claire complies with this abrupt command, grateful for the distraction. Squeezes and tugs her boobs until the nipples stand hard and proud, face and upper chest flushed pink with arousal. Her hand surreptitiously creeps towards her achingly empty quim.

"You do not have my permission..." Kyle chides, guessing her intention. "I won't tolerate disobedience, get up and bend over the chair." With a mutinous look, she obeys, the mandated position forcing her firm buttocks into prominence. Unbidden, Claire discards her panties and stands on tiptoe to thrust her rear even higher.

"How many do you deserve?"

"How many what?"

"Spanks, don't be obtuse."

Not so easily caught out, Claire carefully considers the question before answering. It appears she is to be chastised; choose too low a number and extra will likely be added.

"A dozen," she suggests tentatively. This reply is apparently deemed acceptable, Kyle methodically delivers stinging hand spanks to her bare bottom, pausing after a half dozen.

"Thighs apart, no rubbing." She shuffles her legs apart and he slaps her tender lower cheeks a further six times, the red moons quivering pleasingly with each impact.

"Not fair," Claire complains.

"You do understand that I'm in charge?" Kyle is unrepentant.

"Only until I decide otherwise," she responds tartly, "submission is my choice, not your entitlement." Kyle pulls Claire upright and turns her to face him.

"You can rub that hot bottom now," he says watching in amusement as Claire's hands immediately move to soothe her smarting derriere. "Consider your obedience noted. It can't be easy to be kept in a state of denial when you're so turned on."

"True, but now it's my turn." Retaining her characteristic poise and dignity despite blazing cheeks, Claire advances purposefully towards Kyle and pushes him back onto the bed, seizing the chance to unzip his trousers. Unsurprisingly, given her recent shameless exhibition, he's impressively erect.

"So stiff a cat couldn't scratch it," Claire murmurs with approval, applying a cool hand and hot mouth to the straining shaft. Deftly swallows the end, head bobbing. "My boy's lollipop," she whispers, adding with a wicked expression. "Like to come, wouldn't you? In my mouth, over my tits, onto my thighs. Imagine how good that would feel. No chance." Ceasing her tender oral ministrations, she straddles his pulsing member.

"Keep still," Claire instructs him sternly, reversing their roles.

"I'm going to fuck you," she announces, lowering onto his straining shaft then sliding up sensually and down, inner muscles contracting, Kyle's manhood engulfed by her velvet tunnel.

"Keep doing that and I'll come," he warns.

"You certainly won't, this is a test of self-control and stamina, like the one I just endured. Revenge is sweet." Claire lifts herself from his cock, amused at Kyle's expression, denied the joys of her pussy, wet and gaping before him. Delicately anoints her rosebud with the slick juices of their congress and inserts the tip of his throbbing cock carefully into her bum. "Give me time to ease it in, this isn't a porn movie," Claire cautions. Jiggling her hips, she allows Kyle, struggling not to ejaculate, to slowly go deeper.

"Ooh yes, fill up me, baby, tight up there, isn't it? Bet you're getting close; can you hold out? You'd better. Work my clit, wait until I orgasm, then let go, jizz up my bum." Kyle is desperate to climax, the withholding of sexual satisfaction almost unbearable. "Wait for it, not until I say," she gasps, bobbing on his cock with reckless abandon, teetering on the brink amid waves of intensity.

"Now!" Claire's crescendo is all-encompassing, body and soul orgasmically united. Even Superman couldn't withstand such sublime sensations and Kyle comes copiously, tremor after tremor, like a series of earthquake aftershocks. Nirvana.

"As anniversaries go, I'd describe that as memorable," reflects Claire in the bar later.

"Easier to arrange if we were each married to each other, instead of someone else," answers Kyle, with a conspiratorial smile.