Ember & Ashe

The next couple of months flew by. Ember took to her new role quickly. And why shouldn’t she? I paid her two grand a week just for breathing. Hey, I know it sounds like a lot, but consider the alternative. I know you already know what I'm talking about.

Our problems had healed as completely as the bruise on Ember's cheek. She merrily went about the business of cooking, cleaning and shopping.

Domestic, oppressive bullshit, you say? Real women aren't chained to the kitchen nowadays? Yeah, I know. I used to pay people to do that stuff for me. Well, she didn't like the idea of complete strangers traipsing around her home. Her words, not mine. She made me dismiss all of the help except for a cleaning service that was to come in once a month to do a complete top to bottom on all seven buildings. Believe me when I say that she watched these people closely. Not one for trust, my little Asian doll.

So did our days pass, full, and happy. Well, kind of happy. You see, though she'd get me off anytime I asked -- and sometimes when I didn't! -- I still hadn't done anything with her. No anal, no half and half, nothing. Just hand jobs. Mind blowing, top-tier hand jobs, mind you, but boring after awhile. Just like the way top sirloin starts to taste like Salisbury steak after the third straight month of it for supper.

This, my friends, made me woefully unhappy. I like to know that I am getting my money's worth. With Ember, I felt shortchanged. But I had plans in the works to change all of this.

My scheming began the first Saturday the cleaners arrived. Ember had noted that they steered clear of the basement. I rescued the fellows from an unwarranted blast of shit from my beautiful Japanese taskmistress by intervening on their behalf.

"Ember, they have instructions to stay out of the basement."

She dismissed the help with a wave of her petite hand. They scuttled away quickly, like insects from under a suddenly lifted stone. "Why? Do you not wish it cleaned?"

"It's my private space. I'll clean it, if required."

"I see." Ember left, off to supervise the cleaners. I smiled to myself. I had planted the seed. Now to add water and sun to allow it to sprout.

For almost two weeks I heard nothing more on the subject. Then, without warning, Ember cornered me in the backyard. So began the Great Asian Inquisition.

"You do no work, Andrew. How is it that you can afford me?" Her furrowed brow and pursed lips betrayed her annoyance even more sharply than her acid tone did. Ember oozed unhappiness like a swamp did methane. I recoiled from the bitterness that assailed my senses.

Shit. She was in one of those moods.

Today Ember wore a green dress, gathered at the waist by a braided, pale yellow belt. Black, strappy, Grecian-laced calf-high sandals adorned her petite feet. Her globular, firm breasts made pleasing mounds in the tight fitting bodice of the dress. As usual, she wore little makeup. Her natural beauty needed no enhancement. Her thick, jet black hair fell around her shoulders, framing her narrow face. Impenetrable almond-shaped eyes regarded me closely. Her bee-stung lips pursed tightly in thought. This was a woman who wouldn't tolerate being fucked around with. Not today, at least.

"I manage," I said cryptically.

"So I see. How do you manage?"

"Very well, actually."

"You mock me." Ember strolled over to me and ran her lithe fingers across my cheek. Suddenly, before I could react, her tiny hand grasped a clump of my dreadlocks in a death grip. Her other hand latched onto my little son sleeping peacefully in my trousers. She squeezed.

"It is not right to keep secrets from me, Andrew Grissolm." The pressure on my gonads increased. My balls screamed in protest.

"Christ, Ember. Stop that, girl!" I made to remove her hand from my groin, but a sharp tug from her golden grip stopped me short. Here I was, a six-foot plus, 230 pound black wall of solid muscle being manhandled by a petite Japanese woman who weighed next to nothing. I would've laughed if it wasn't my nuts being smeared into peanut butter.

"Shit, I give," I said, laughing through my tears. She slackened her grip on my nuts. She didn't release my hair, though.

"I'm an artist and photographer."

"An artist, you say?" She considered this for a few moments. "This I can believe. You do have an artist's soul. However," she tugged a handful of my dreadlocks sharply, "few artists can live like you do. What else do you do?"

"Well, let me show you. Let's go to the basement."

"You work down there?"

"I do. Come down and see." I allowed her to lead me inside the house and to the basement door. I punched in the combination on the digital lock, and opened it. I made no attempt to conceal the sequence from her. I watched her lips move silently, repeating the key sequence over and over. "Don't strain your brain, Kitten. I'm going to reprogram the lock as soon as we come back up." This earned me a scathing glare and another sharp tug on the dreads.

One day, I'd learn to shut the fuck up.

Down we went. We passed many doors, all of them locked just as the door to the basement had been. I led her to the photography studio.I opened up the room. Inside was sound and light equipment, a darkroom, a PC with all of the necessary peripherals and software, camera backdrops and props, and other such equipment. I turned to her. "See? Photography. That is my medium of choice."

"What could you be photographing to make you so wealthy? State secrets?"

She had a quick mind. I had counted on that. "Let me show you." I strode over to the computer and turned it on. I selected a disc at random from the spindles that covered the desk and dropped it into the CD-ROM drive. I motioned for Ember to sit down. She did so, finally releasing my hair. I didn't doubt that she'd run me down like a drunkard through a busy intersection at happy hour if I made a dash for the door, though. She split her attention between the monitor screen and me. Once the PC booted up, I initiated the picture slide show program. I configured it to change images once every three seconds. I parked myself about three yards away, well out of hair-grabbing range.

The presentation started out pretty tame, featuring girls in fetish gear. Lots of PVC and leather, latex and surgical steel. Kinky looking and incredibly sexy, but still pretty vanilla stuff. As the slides progressed, the images got a tad harder in nature. Partial and full immobilization. Tight bondage and mummification. Tit torture. Suspension. Of course, the requisite spankings and canings were well represented. All the funky stuff that people love to watch, if not participate in. I loved participating in severe kink, personally.

But did she? That is what I wanted to discover.

Ember's eyes didn't leave the screen. I couldn't tell what she thought. Would she accept this, or be totally turned off? Sure, she used to whore for living, but Ember remained the most ethical person I had ever encountered. What would she think?

"Andrew," she said as she turned towards me. "Please come here." She motioned me over towards her. I went over and looked at the screen. A blond woman was on her knees in front of a black man who grasped her by the hair. She choked around a large mouthful of ebony cock. Her mouth stretched around it, the orifice jammed so full it looked like her jaw would dislocate. About two inches of cock projected out of her stretched lips. The man's heavily scarred body marked him. I winced inwardly. Maybe she'd not notice?

Yeah. Sure.

The woman wore a Baby-D collar, a crimson leather band with D-ring accents around her neck. A leather blindfold obscured her vision. The tight lacings of her opera gloves kept her arms pinioned behind her back. Her tight, red leather body harness crisscrossed her body in an intricate web of leather and steel O-Rings. Fishnet stockings and jet, six inch heeled pumps adorned her perfectly moulded legs and feet. Her ass cheeks and breasts glowed a vibrant red, a scarlet brighter than her leather accessories. Her abused flesh sported the marks from a recent paddling.

Fuck. I'd forgotten all about those. I had taken part in that photo shoot. That blonde, Alicia, had been so foxy that I couldn't resist her. She'd been bragging that she could handle any cock. Well, I showed her! She only got half of my prick in her before she started to gag on it. By the time I pulled out of her, she had lost consciousness. I really enjoyed fucking the shit out of her. My cock twitched at the fond memories of her screams of delight. Oh yes. Alicia. That chick had been an intensity freak like no other. Pain was always a welcome visitor with her. I had ditched her within three days. I'd never cared much for blood sports. A man who wanted to live a long time had to stay away from that shit. Besides, Fate had sliced up my body enough. I'd be buggered if I let some doped up cunt cut me up for shits and giggles.

Ember's voice dragged me out of my reverie. "Andrew. Is that black man you?"

My scars identified me like a thumbprint. It made no sense to lie. "Yeah. It is."

Ember stared at the screen for a bit, and then flicked to the next picture. Action shots. Me ramming my cock in, then yanking my cock out. Alicia's semi-conscious frame jostling under the violent thrusts from my anaconda. Alicia bound in a ceiling swing, getting her ass stretched by my four inch wide pile driver. Ember flipped through a few dozen more pictures before getting up from the computer. "Did you enjoy this woman?"

"Thoroughly. Are those of photos of a bored man?"

"She has truly poor technique. Are you fresh?"

I indicated that I was. Ember always insisted that I bathe before sex, even though she limited that to only hand jobs. She quickly shucked me of my pants, and then grasped my little son in her talented grip. She didn't neglect my boys, either. All my children basked in the glow of her affection. Before long, I was at maximum hardness, my cockhead a fat juicy plum, with two slightly smaller ones dangling underneath the shaft. I wish mere words could describe how wonderful her touch felt. Ember had skills like no other woman alive. Her stroke was as faint as a thought, as hot as unfulfilled desire. My prick resided in a happy, happy place. I shut my eyes and thrust my hips forward, content to savor her expert manual technique.

Imagine my shock when I felt her hot little mouth on the head of my cock. Her tongue worked around it feverishly, slicking it down with her saliva. My incredulous eyes popped open and looked down. I gazed upon the impossible.

Ember had her hands of my thighs, grabbing them tightly as she choked down my rod. No way could she take it all! I tapped her on the shoulder. "Ease up, Ember. You'll hurt yourself."

Her eyes blazed at me before snapping back to the penis that defied her. I suppose the injury was already done! Seeing Alicia gobbling my cock had shook something loose in her. She was out to show me what real dick sucking was all about.

Her desire raged strong within her, but Ember was constructed only of mortal flesh. Slowly, she eased off of my prick, grudgingly giving ground. She retained only the bulbous head of it in her mouth. She shifted her hands for my thighs to my waist, and held on tightly. "No fucking way ... " I began. Then she drove her face forward with a force that almost knocked me over. She swallowed my shaft right to the root. Her throat swelled up obscenely with my tool lodged inside there, like the gorget of a bullfrog about to croak. She held me in this position, breathing hard through her nose.

"Ember! Stop! You don't have to do this." She looked at me again, anger still flickering in her eyes. She kept her eyes locked on mine as she swallowed. Delightful ripples mashed my cock in her throat, sending me to oblivion. My pleasure mounted, vaulting ever higher. My legs buckled when she performed an unbelievable act. Tiny little Ember, with her face jammed full of four-inch diameter prick, slithered her long hot tongue out and prodded my balls with it. I'd never experienced such a thing. Fuck, I'd no idea it was even possible! Bloody incredible. The sensations and visuals sent me into a second realm of pleasure.

"God, Ember. You love feasting on me, don't you?" I asked. "Yes. I've never felt anything like this before. Only you could do this for me. Only you." My low, guttural voice had dropped into this whisper all on its own. Fuck. It was a miracle I could speak at all! I ran my fingers through her midnight-black, silken tresses. "You'd do anything for me, wouldn't you? Especially if you thought that another woman could do it better. Is this what drives you? The need to be the best lover I've ever had?" Her eyes changed. They softened, becoming those tender things a woman besotted by love or lust wore. The more I spoke to her, the more contented her gaze became.

Contented, and horny.

I worked my penis in and out of her throat, the visual stimulation as great as the tactile. Seeing her lips stretched so wide to accommodate me, then my dark brown meat vanishing into her face while her throat swelled up like the belly of a woman at nine months ... man! It was something to see firsthand. I moved with a more rapid rhythm, and with increasing force. Her head rocked back and forth as I plunged in and out of her tight oral orifice.

"Yes, Ember. You're mine, aren't you? My own personal Japanese cum-slut. You crave my cock. My seed. Well, they're all yours. Take them." I shoved into her as hard as I could. Her eyes opened, lit with a fierce joy I've rarely seen in another human being. She salivated constantly, the thick streams of spittle running down her chin as I fucked her face wildly. God, how I loved doing this to her!

"Take it, Ember. Take it all!" My words, not my phallus, turned her into a naughty toy driven wild with sluttish abandon. That realization thrilled me. At last, I had found the key to Ms. Yoshikawa's sexuality. Bet your sweet ass that I'd be sure to use it often.

I thrust into her once more, but did not withdraw. I wanted to push her boundaries back a bit. "Hold it in as long as you can," I told her. "Milk me with your throat. When you can't handle it any longer, tap my thighs with both hands. But know that the longer you hold it in, the more pleased that I'll be with you. I'll tap you on the shoulder in five minutes time, signaling the end of our play. Commence."

Ember closed her eyes. Her throat relaxed on my thick member. Pacing herself, I figured. Fuck that. I wasn't going to make things easy for her! Neither would I cheat. That wouldn't be sporting. I'd limit my interference to speaking.

"Ah, Ember. You're making me so very happy with your mouth. I hadn't thought this possible for you. You're so tiny. How could I've thought you could handle cock this thick? It feels so good. Work that throat for me, Kitten. Milk me of my seed."

Her throat tightened around me. It gave me a few quick pulses, then ceased. Her eyes flickered open, shooting stark disapproval at me before closing again. I chuckled. She was at war with herself. Ember had an overwhelming desire to please me, but also had overwhelming pride. She both wanted to satisfy my lust, and to satisfy her desire to beat me. By relaxing herself, she would easily last the five minutes. By making me come early, she'd guarantee my pleasure. In truth, either one was fine with me! I'd set up a classic win-win situation. The real question was which outcome would give her the most personal satisfaction?

I'd find out soon enough, I wagered.

I kept up the stream of dirty talk. Ember hiked up her green sun dress and diddled herself, perhaps to distract herself from the burning lump sitting lodged inside her throat. Imagine a big chunk of meat wedged in your throat, a lump that you couldn't cough up or swallow. Fuck. Talk about miserable! I glanced at my watch. Three minutes, twenty seconds. Wow. Could she actually win this thing?

Her hand moved faster, flicking her clitoris. She pinched her nipples through the thin green crepe. Her throat worked with hard, involuntary squeezes, not the controlled contractions like before. Shit. She was gagging!

"Playtime is over, Ember. I'm pulling out." I placed my hands on her shoulders and slowly pushed off of her. She contemptuously slapped my hands away. "Don't you dare. I am going to win this thing," her angry stare told me. She pressed back down on me, forcing my prick all the way down her ever-expanding throat.

I can't tell you how proud I felt at that moment. I knew she was brazen and stubborn. I'd have to add courageous to the list. Only thirty seconds left. Her convulsions came faster. Hot tears streamed down her face, the thin rivulets collecting on her chin before dripping onto her breastbone and disappearing down her sundress. Ten seconds ... nine ... eight. Her motions became desperate. She splayed her fingers open on the sides of my thighs. The desire not to smack at my legs revealed itself through her shuddering limbs. Her hands opened and closed spasmodically on my legs. She'd give in shortly. What choice did she have? I could imagine the pain she was in, the overwhelming physical distress. I glanced at my watch once more. Time plus five. Time plus six.

Fuck me. She'd done it!

I lovingly ran my fingers through her thick hair. "You've beaten me, Ember. Time's up."

She yanked herself off of me. A thick cable of gooey spittle connected her lips to my rod. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her breath came in ragged gulps, her lungs greedily sucking in air denied to her for over five minutes. This liquid-pearl diver could put any pearl diver in the South Pacific to shame. What breath control she displayed! I gently kissed her forehead as I played with the long, soft black hair I loved so much. There was a reason I called her Kitten. "You've succeeded, Ember. You've exceeded all of my expectations. I'm extremely proud to have you."

She looked up at me with her mischievous grin. "Then, I must claim my reward." She stuck my prick back in her mouth and worked it over. This time it wasn't solely deep throat. Her teeth, tongue and lips all got into the action. I found heaven at that moment. It existed in Ember's warm, gripping mouth.

With talents like that, how could I hold back? She bore down on me with a vicious energy, nibbling around the corona of my glans while mashing my balls in her diminutive grip. My moans spurred her on to more creative efforts. A professionally manicured fingertip probed at the thick muscular doorway to my rectum, causing me no small discomfort. I shied away from her, inadvertently pushing more of myself into her mouth. She clamped down on me with her teeth. My sphincter reflexively tightened into a tight brown fist of muscle, then relaxed. She had waited for this.

Her finger shot forward, violating my virgin ass. She plowed her finger in and out of my ass hole without pity. That was it for me! I exploded, filling her firm tummy with my soul sauce. She greedily swallowed my ejaculate, drawing every last sperm out of me before pushing me away.

I fell back upon the ground, utterly spent. Ember leaped on top of me, sliding her bare crotch over my chest, coating it with a slickness all of her own devising. She rubbed her essence into my chest, as if it was the finest quality lotion. In this way, she marked me as her own. She leaned over my face, her hair masking the outer world from my view. My universe was now Ember, my entire world her inscrutable gaze.

"How do you feel, Ashe?"

"Fucking great!"

"No regrets?"

"None whatsoever." I strained my head upwards, attempting to land a peck on her nose. She easily avoided my attempt at intimacy. Kitten felt aggressive! Best to slow down, and let her have her moment. She'd earned it.

"Then let this be the end of your brooding, Andrew Grissolm. I will do everything in my power to make you happy, and to keep you so. But I cannot help you if you refuse to tell me when you are troubled."