Roughing It 2

He always knows when I'm aroused. It doesn't matter where we are, or what we're doing, He always knows. I could be sitting next to Him, staring blankly at a wall, unmoving, silent, and He would know the instant I got aroused. That is how in tune He is with me, all of me. He knows my mind, He knows my body, and He can look into my soul with such ease and comfort, that most of the time I am awed by His ability to know me so well, to understand me sometimes better than I understand myself.

At times like this, like right now, I know the minute He becomes aware of my arousal and the desire to feel Him inside of me burns hotter, filling the room with the scent of my need for Him. We're sitting on the couch; me curled up against Him as He reads to me. I know He knows I'm aroused. I know He can smell that arousal just as I can, and that turns me on even more.

I start to squirm against Him a little, moving just slightly, unable to control myself, unable to repress that need growing deep inside of me. Oh He ignores me for a minute or so, and then suddenly, He's standing over me, smirking at me. It's at that moment, I begin to feel the wetness sliding down my thighs. "You naughty, insatiable, little slut," He growls at me as His fist curls in the silky tresses of my long brown hair. I yelp softly as He pulls me off the couch, pushing me down on my knees in front of Him.

Without another word, He starts walking into the kitchen, dragging me by the hair as I crawl behind Him; stopping in the middle of the kitchen floor. He looks down at me, on my hands and knees, whimpering, panting, skin flushed with arousal, and He smiles at me. "I know what you want, you little whore," He growls at me as He releases His grip on my hair, "You want Me to fuck you, don't you?" A whimpering 'yes' comes from my mouth as I try to calm my breathing. But I can't slow down my breathing, just as I can't stop the growing arousal within me.

He walks behind me; flipping my skirt up and yanking my panties down and off in one smooth motion. I can feel the breeze from the open kitchen window flittering softly against my heated skin. And then, His hands are on my ass, kneading, pinching, grabbing; eliciting moan after moan from me as I press my body into His hands, loving the feel of His touch, reveling in the sensations He is creating. His hands leave my body for a second before I feel the first smack on my ass. "Whose whore are you?" He growls as His hand lands on my already heated skin a bit harder this time. I whimper "yours" as He continues spanking me, harder and harder; each time asking me whose whore I am, whose naughty little slut I am, and each time I say "yours" louder and louder until He has me screaming it as loudly as I can.

He thrusts His hand between my legs, fingers gliding across the freshly shaven skin He finds there. He dips His fingers inside my pussy, first one and then another, moving them in and out as I whimper and moan and push against His hand for a split second before He takes His fingers out of me. I groan at the loss, already so close to the edge that it won't take much to send me over. Of course, He knows this, but He likes to tease me.

He takes a second to rake His fingernails over the still hot flesh of my ass and the first "please" comes out of my mouth. I close my eyes, the desire, the need for release enveloping me, consuming me, until the only thing I am aware of is Him, His touch, His voice, His presence. I moan as He rakes His fingernails over my skin one last time and then the moan becomes louder as His hand slides between my legs to grab the soft folds of flesh there. "Whose whore are you," He asks me again as He tightens His grip and I scream "yours" my body moving against His hand as He spreads my pussy wide open. "Don't EVER forget that," He growls in my ear as His fingers stroke my clit, building me up and up and up until I am so very close, and then when I get there, He stops. He does like to tease me.

"So very, very wet. You ARE my naughty, insatiable, little slut, aren't you?" I whimpered then, telling Him over and over that I was, saying it out loud, saying, "I am your naughty, insatiable, little slut." His hands come around me, pinching my nipples through the silk of my shirt and He whispers "good girl" in my ear a second before He puts my own very wet panties in my mouth, gagging me with them, muffling my cries.

I can taste myself. I can smell my own arousal. It fills my mouth, my nose, my entire being as I listen to Him telling me how wet I am, how He can tell how much I want Him, how only naughty little slut's get THAT wet, and the entire time I moan around the panties in my mouth. My need to have Him inside of me, to be taken by Him becoming so powerful, like white-hot primal energy swirling inside of my body, and inside of my mind.

He pulled my head back then, His hand gripping my hair forcefully, the muscles in my neck straining against the pressure. "And you know what else, you little slut," He whispered into my ear seductively, "I can have you any time I want, any way I want, and any where I want. Because that is what YOU want." And with that, He thrust into me forcefully, spreading me open, filling me completely. His thrusts were hard, deep, and fast as He fucked me. There was no other word for it. He was fucking me, His hips pounding against my ass, His hands gripping my hips, fingers biting into the soft flesh there. I'd have bruises in the morning from His fingers, tiny little reminders of what was happening here and now.

Within minutes, He was leaning over me, growling in my ear, telling me to cum with Him. I felt the beginning of His orgasm, felt Him growing and throbbing inside of me and as He sank His teeth into the side of my neck, I came; that white-hot energy inside of me exploding in a blinding light, the panties in my mouth muffling the screams that tore from my throat over and over and over again until I was limp, lying on the kitchen floor, reveling in the feel of His body on top of mine, the feel of His weight pressing down on me. He kissed the top of my head then, rolling onto His side and wrapping His arms around me. I looked up at Him then, His face flushed and warm, His smile wide and beautiful. "I love you, you little slut." I lifted my head up and kissed Him softly, smiling at Him. "I love you too," I whispered as my eyes closed and my mind drifted away, my body safe in His arms.