Just A Little Bossy

Author's Note: "Uxorious" has complex etymological connotations, but essentially means pussy-whipped.

"She stopped. Fuck, fuck, she stopped..." I have to focus.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Juliana looked up from her book as I stepped inside our townhouse and took off my boots, but she didn't put it down.

She wore a deep plum scuba dress, cut low and slit high, and probably designed by someone whose name she thought I should know. Dark hose encased her long shapely legs. I kinda wanted to drop to my knees and lick the nylons, but her frown stopped any horseplay.

Her long dark hair was neatly placed behind her ears. She tucks it there because she takes her glasses off when she reads.

"You're up late." I greeted her as I leaned over and kissed her hello. That got me a small smile as she turned her cheek to accept my kiss. I got a whiff of the Channel Juliana'd worn to work and brushed innocently against her friendly bosoms briefly.

"Engrossing read," she answered and wrinkled her nose. "You smell of smoke and barflies."

"You know you love it, baby." I grinned and winked at her in mock chauvinism.

She raised her eyebrows and stared me down. I love that she can do that.

"Some of the guys lit up cigars after the Thunderbirds won," I half-apologized, all the while knowing that I would have probably had a cigar too, had Joe been passing out a better quality stogie. "But not me. And nothing to drink for me either."

"You better not have drank, Kris. You drove for Pete's sake." She kept her place in her book with her thumb, but set it down on her lovely lap and smiled fondly at me. "Still, you need a shower."

Her eyes sparkled and her teeth gleamed as she calmly reinforced her rather stringent standard of hygiene on me. Her glossy dark red nails gleamed too. She tapped them rapidly and impatiently against the arm of our gray suede couch. And stared me down again.

My pussy tightens involuntarily every time she does that.

My hesitation and accompanying thrill was short lived. Since I've become pretty enamored of both her and sharing a bed with her, I capitulated readily with minimum natural rebelliousness. Plus, I did need a shower.

I tossed my head and walked to the laundry room to drop my offending clothes in the washer before heading through the living room in front of her and upstairs to the bathroom.

She set down her book again to check me out as I walked back through the living room in the buff.

Yeah, I'm hot.

I turned on the shower and brushed my teeth while waiting for the icy water from the old taps to come up to temperature. In short order, I sudsed up with some apricot bodywash, quickly shaved, and carefully washed all the smoke out of my messy black hair. Then I shook like a dog, dried off thoroughly, and tossed the used towel in the clothes basket.

Four months ago, I lived in a little downtown micro apartment of my very own, where I did not have a clothes basket. (Or anything else that smacked of domesticity.) But you can't really argue with the bathroom smelling like potpourri instead of mildewed towels. In fact, most of the minor adjustments that I'd made to my natural habits in order to live peacefully with her were objectively improvements.

She'd moved to the bedroom by the time I'd returned from the shower, but was still reading her book. I'm not complaining. As far as addictions go, bibliophilia seems fairly harmless.

"Whatcha reading?" I slid under the covers next to her, noticing that her moisturized feminine body was as naked as mine and much hotter by my standards.

"

Perfect Poison: A Female Serial Killer's Deadly Medicine.

"

"Should I be worried?" I joked.

"No." She brushed her fingers through my damp hair. "You're a very uxorious woman."

"You know I don't know what that word means, right?"

"I know you don't know what that word means."

Then her lips were on my collarbone and I couldn't care less what uxorious meant. The book fell from her hand to the bedside table.

Her soft lips found my nipple next, lightly sucking as it hardened. A loving hand massaged my other breast simultaneously with slender fingers. I caressed the soft skin on her shoulder and let my head fall back on the fluffy pillow.

She continued to manipulate my sensitive boobs until I got too hot to take anymore of her teasing. My sexual puppet master, she knows exactly the string to pull, when to pull, and how hard to pull so that my libido dances for her.

I pulled out Mr. Plow from the bedside table drawer, a large red rubberized dildo attached to a leather harness. My trusty strapon is far more interesting to me than the silly book that sat mostly finished atop the same table.

She shifted to the side – but kept kissing the hollow of my neck – as I lifted my hips and strapped in. I put a semi-reluctant end to her foreplay by rolling her over and climbing onto her.

I laid on her quietly for a moment, enjoying the way my weight pressed down on her lovely curves and the way her beautiful face softened as she looked up at me. I love her looks, her attitude, her texture, her smarts. Her.

Her intelligent brown eyes tend to make me lose myself, so she had to wriggle provocatively beneath me to bring me back to earth.

Afterward, it was her turn to let her body relax, while I nuzzled her cheek and positioned myself. Slowly, I nudged the six inch dildo into her sweet pussy until I felt the warm skin of her bare mound against mine.

Then I kissed her. Her mouth opened and my tongue slipped inside to play with hers. So warm. So welcoming. So enticing.

The long french kiss preoccupied me. Her supple lips on mine, the tip of her tongue rubbing and tapping. Her teeth ever so lightly grazing over the top of my tongue. I sank into it as deeply as I had sunk into her.

Her insistent hands on my firm asscheeks brought my other pursuit to the forefront of my mind with an explicit squeeze.

I wasn't about to stop kissing her. My ardent lips still locked on hers and my tongue still captivated by the antics of hers, I raised my hips to pull out slightly and lowered them in turn to push back into her slick heat.

The ensuing pace I set stayed slow and gentle. She likes it tender and I like giving it to her how she likes it.

Soon our heavy breathing forced us to end our kiss, so I went back to nuzzling her cheek and letting my hot breath caress her ear.

My thrusts found the rhythm suggested by her breathing and the only other thing I could hear was my heart beating in my ears as her body responded to being filled and loved.

Her smooth thighs clamped onto my hips causing my thrusts to shorten dramatically. Her heels rubbed back and forth over my calves.

A hand on each side of my face drew me back into a kiss, more torrid and fierce as she approached her climax. Even more impossible to maintain however, since she teetered on the edge of freefall.

A few more patterned strokes had her up and over the cliff.

Her face registered the rapture, but she remained silent. Her quiet – but powerful – orgasms confused me on our first night together and made me doubt myself. Juliana reassured me that it was as she would have it though.

She's particularly beautiful right after she comes. There's a serenity borne of satisfaction as everything about my normally tense girlfriend relaxes entirely into a calmed repose.

I stayed lying on her and buried inside her. Her odd composedness after I make love to her always leaves me feeling conflicted. A natural protectiveness stirs me to cover her body and whisper sweet devotions in her ear as she experiences the physical weakness that follows her orgasm. Simultaneously, I never feel more vulnerable.

"I love you, Juliana." I whispered to her.

"I love you, too." She patted the small of my back, but then returned to enjoying her moment.

Her body shifted, telling me that she'd returned in spirit and wanted me to pull out.

I did – gingerly – and she unstrapped me from below.

"Juliana, baby?"

"Yes, Kris?"

"Will you do that thing I like?"

"Yes, Kris."

I closed my eyes in preparation, but could still see her smirk in my mind's eye. In her defense though, she never humiliates me or belittles me for what I like. She thinks it's ridiculous and teases me affectionately sometimes, but I can live with that.

I don't care how silly she thinks it is. I don't care how silly it actually is. It's like my favorite thing in the world.

I rolled onto my back without prompting. I swear, if I had a tail, I'd have wagged it.

She started by putting wet kisses all over my abs. Her index finger – just the one finger at first – snuck into my folds and stroked up and down from pole to pole. Her finger began to dip inside me, ever so slightly further with each pass.

The first light caress of my clit coincided with her tongue wiggling into my naval. I went nuts.

I am not a quiet lover. From that moment, she had me moaning and thrashing shamelessly, like a whore who loved her job. There is nothing in this life that gives me more pleasure than her wet tongue in my belly button and her deft fingers in my pussy.

Her middle finger joined her index in plunging in and out of my snatch while she used the ball of her thumb to rub little circles over my button through its hood. Her tongue matched the rhythm of her fingers and kept stabbing the sensitive spot in the center of my tight stomach.

My toes curled and my feet kicked at the same time. Between her firing me up during the preamble and her turn and the onslaught I face in the moment, I knew I couldn't hold out long. I white-knuckled the bedpost with one hand and pet her head with the other, determined to thoroughly enjoy the ride.

Tingling sparks coursed back and forth between my belly button and my puss, ramping up to unbind the cords of pleasure tensing my entire body. My hips popped and held and my abs trembled and held, but the dam broke and fluids poured out of me.

She dropped down my body to lick up every drop of nectar that I produced. Her insistent tongue prolonged my pleasure into buildup for another orgasm. Again, I am not complaining.

Her fervor for my just-come pussy showed in every centimeter of movement by her wet and wild tongue. Her fingernails dug into my inner thighs as she held them open against my every instinct to snap shut on her beautiful face and sexy ears.

She kept me exposed, cool air hitting the small amount of moisture she'd missed. I petted her pretty hair and moaned out complimentary incoherent things about my amazing lover.

Her tongue plunged into me, while her nose put near continuous pressure on my clit.

"Juliana, baby, ah. Keep doing that. Ah, ah, ah yeah."

I stopped petting her so that both my hands could grip the headboard. My back arched instinctively, but to no particular avail as she had my pelvis pinned down. But electricity arced throughout my body from end to end, so it felt like my fingernails and toenails might fly off.

So here I am, in bed with her, riding her passion for me as she tongue-fucks my appreciative pussy. Madly, I hold on to the little bars in the headboard. I wonder momentarily how strong they are and if I might pull them loose. I can't bring myself to care though.

Her tongue in me is magic. My eyes are closed, but rolled back in my head anyway. Thrilled obscenities drool forth from my disconnected, but grateful, mouth. My abs are clinching. I'm nearing...

Then, abruptly, while I'm ecstatically on my way to a second orgasm, the warm wet lovely tongue withdraws itself.

My mind screams on the behalf of my body. "She stopped. Fuck, fuck, she stopped..." I have to focus.

She's looking up at me, smiling again. Her eyes are twinkling with cupidic laughter. I can see the shine of my wetness on her lips. Her lustrous dark hair looks perfect, not mussed or matted at all.

Everything in me wants to grab the back of her head and push her right back down on me. I suspect indulging in that instinct would go over very poorly however, and therefore I deny it.

I close my eyes again. This time I consciously close my mouth as well, both to grit my teeth against the irritation of orgasmic interruption and to guard myself from voicing my rather natural objection.

Instead, I pant through my nose trying to match the rhythm of my violent breath to a beat. I nod along to The Police's

Don't Stand So Close to Me

in a vain attempt to calm down. It's not working.

It doesn't help that she hasn't stopped touching me. Now her kisses and licks spiral out away from my center. She works from inside my thighs, down to my knees, back up again to my now unclinched abs. Her tongue leaves wet streaks over my ankles and then my ribs. She sucks my toes in turn as they wiggle in her humid mouth.

By the time she makes her way back up to my chest, I'm not really mad anymore, but I'm still very aroused. Her lips delicately encase my right nipple. The moist tip of her skilled tongue circles and flicks. Slow, slow, circles and flicks.

She's lying along my right side, and while her oral attentions continue on my right nipple. Her left hand caresses my cheek and her fingertips trip over the outer shell of my ear.

Her right hand travels back down across my lower abdomen. Her knuckles graze over my mons, back and forth.

My own right hand remains gripping the headboard, but my left hand massages my other breast in sympathy with the slow teasing she was giving me. As her fabian style keeps me just buzzing, my fingers twist my hardened nipple, as though willing her to speed her own approach.

Now I'm feeling a new frustration. She's teasing me on purpose of course, although to what purpose I'm not sure. Still, it's maddening.

Her feathery touch tickles my labia. I release my own breast and take the headboard with both hands again. My feet twist the fitted sheet off the corner of the bed. Her lips still hold my nipple as a willingly tortured hostage.

Her index finger pushes into my mouth for a few seconds and I suck. Then she takes it away and I whimper. And I'll admit, the whimpering is plaintive.

She finally relinquishes my nipple and moves her body across mine. Two of her fingers slide into me, even as her newly free tongue slides into my ear.

"Next time you're going to be out late, you had better call and let me know. If I have to sit up and wonder if you're okay again, I'm cutting you off for a month. Got it?"

I nod and bite my lip, now aware of what triggered my sensual punishment at my occasionally petty lover's hands and tongue.

Still, it's a highly effective threat. I'll certainly call next time I find myself out late.

My arms wrap around her shoulders. Her fingers push in and out of me, knuckles intentionally rubbing over my g-spot.

My head drops back to the pillow and I let out a low groan. She's taking me all the way this time.

Her lips leave wet kisses on the side of my neck. Her warm breath tickles my neck and her pretty hair tickles my collarbone, but they're low on my list of distracting sensations while her fingers are in me.

They, meaning her fingers, pick up speed. I start saying Juliana's name again and again. Like a broken chant for much needed serenity.

Her lips stop moving on my neck and suck down hard, presumably leaving a hickey that I'd be sporting for few days.

I don't care. The way her fingers are pressing into me, the way she smells like sexual effort, the way tendrils of her hair slip over my skin as she moves. I love being with her. She can put as many love bites on me as she likes.

As I consider how lovely she is and how lucky I am, my body finishes it's gradual rise and crests. The delusional thought strikes me that I can feel each of her knuckles inside me as the pleasurable spasms consume me. I do feel her breath and hear her cooing. Everything that is me settles into joyful tranquility and life is very good.

"Love you." She brushes stray sweat-dampened hairs off my forehead affectionately.

I smile back up at her stupidly. She chuckles and plants an impish kiss on the corner of my lips. Having accomplished my satisfaction to hers, she then rolls off me.

She sits up in bed though, leaning against the headboard. I lay my head on her upper abdomen and wrap an arm around her waist to go to sleep.

"Kris, honey, hand me my book?" she asks me.

I roll away briefly, reach behind me, grab the wanted book off the nightstand, and hand it back to her. Then I snuggle back into her and fall asleep.