Pre-School

FIFTEEN

'Pre-School'

The darkness of sleep fades to the foggy grey behind my closed eyes.

I have awakened to the wet warmth of your mouth on my cock.

Your wake-up service.

Your lips cradle me. Your tongue flattens, stiffens, softens and swirls around my bulb. Traces my slit and pokes as if wanting to enter.

As I grow you encourage me, your lips allowing me easy entry, your tongue cradling and guiding me in.

I reach the top of your throat and you make that delightful gutteral sound, "Ggg-gggg-gggg-ggg," rattling against the head of my still lengthening cock.

You draw back to keep that stimulation.

I like that.

I open my eyes and look down at you, bent at the waist as you lie beside me.

Your shoulder thrusting out of your hair like a delicate pink island in a honey sea.

Beneath that sea, your hidden shoulder presses gently against my thigh.

Your hair drapes off your side, exposing your beautiful waist and hip.

Your beautiful back always delights me, smooth muscles flanking your spine, hip bones defining your trim waist, twin dimples above your firm ass - skin now stretched tightly over your globes.

I feel your shins against mine.

I reach out to lay my left hand on your ass, pause, feeling the heat.

You shift under my palm and I curl fingers into the crack of your ass.

You rock against my hand, never neglecting my now fully stiff cock.

I roll onto my side and reach across so that my right hand can join my left.

I shift my left hand under your hip and my right fingertips tap along your slit.

You wriggle, I tickle and together we align my fingers with your soaking cunt and I press three fingers in to the knuckles.

You arch your back in offering and moan around my dick.

I curl my back, lifting my hips and pressing my cock into your mouth, you raise your head to hold my head against the portal of your throat without taking me in further.

My fingers wedged into your cunt and my hand under your hip, I lift and turn you fully round so that your pussy hovers over my mouth.

I lower my hips - you follow me down, tongue swirling and dancing around my cock.

I press three fingers of my left hand into your slit, joining the three of my right.

You arch your back, lifting your mouth off my cock, then dive back quick and wet, bouncing your throat against the crown of my shaft.

I spread your lips wide and rub my nose into your pussy.

I shift my head and scrub your inner lips with my bearded chin; you lower yourself onto me, and moan, vibrating my cock.

I pull my fingers from your cunt and begin to suck and lap, tap and enter while smearing your juices from my fingers around your ass hole.

You begin stroking the roof of your mouth over my tip. You stroke from teeth to throat three times, then plunge down, taking me into your throat, your lips nesting in my hair.

I suck a lip between my teeth and bite, you jerk off my cock, take me in and begin to stroke my tip again against your palate.

I suck hard and shake your cunt lip, you plunge again sheathing my cock deep.

You swallow a few times, gargling, your vocal cords thrum against my head.

You lift off and slide down, dragging your tits along my thighs; I spread my legs.

The trail of your juices is cool on my chest and belly. I press my right hand between us and cup my balls with the three outer fingers and circle my thumb and forefinger around my stiffness.

I thrust my left thumb into your ass and lift you as I lift my cock to point up at your pussy.

Your hair is hanging over your left shoulder, a golden rope, as you settle your hot and dripping cunt onto my shaft.

I glory at the beauty of your back as your spine writhes and your hair sways to curtain it as you writhe and rise and fall.

I press against my cock with my thumb through the soft wall between vagina and rectum. This causes us both to shift our movement patterns to take advantage of the myriad new sensations.

I reach up to cup and cradle your tit, allowing your rise and fall to control our contact at all points.

Without modifying your slow bouncing, I grip your softness, following your pace.

I pull my thumb from your ass, rotate my hand and press against your anus with my fingers in a cone.

You wiggle down, rotating my cock inside you and seeking the spreading of your sphincter as you settle your asshole of the pyramid of my fingers.

Slowly, slowly, circling and relentless, you take my four fingers all the way in.

You settle on me, cradled in my hips, and play with me by clenching and unclenching your ass and pussy in a pattern unpredicted and, perhaps because of that, increasingly exciting for me.

I can see no more flesh, as your honey-gold hair is sticking to your sweating skin has become a thin, negligee, covering and revealing the glorious beauty of your trim and muscular back.

I like that very much.

You lean forward, hands on my shins and begin to lift your hips, working your clutching cunt muscles as your rise and lower on my dick.

This works your hair to fall to your sides, again revealing the crisp tan of your back, and exposing your thrusting ass to my attention.

I see glimpses of my cock at the high of your stroke, but your twin globes quickly cover me.

I gather a handful of your hair in each hand, balling it loosely and rubbing my belly and chest with your silken locks.

You start a sound somewhere between a moan and a keen and it rings out through the room.

I love that sound you make

I love you.

I lay the hank of hair in my right hand over my face as a veil; the golden ball in my left I rub absently over your ass.

As my breath deepens and slows with my build-up, I press your hair in my left hand between your cheeks and my pubes - a honey-gold pad that is quickly damp.

I cover my eyes with my elbow and lie still as you caress my cock with your spongy, wet, velvet sheath.

You lie down onto my legs, bending my cock as it presses against the back of your cunt.

It hurts, but in a way that I like.

Now.

I used to be afraid it would snap off.

You quit pumping and start a slow grind, your cuntlip muscles tight around my shaft, not quite at the base due to the angle. Your nipple rings are hard where they press against my thighs pillowed by your firm breasts.

You turn your head to the side and rest your cheek on my shin.

We lay there, breathing, relaxed.

Our only motion is your pelvis grinding on mine, stirring your cunt with my cock.

Ahhhhhhh.

I slowly gather your hair in my hands, shivering as stray strands slither across my skin.

I pull gently and circle my thumb and index finger around the hank with my palm and other fingers resting on your skull.

I lift your torso off my legs and arch you back, pulling you up, folding your knees beside my thighs.

My cock flips out of your pussy, you grip me with your adductors.

I pull you down onto me, face up, and hug you to me, crossing my arms on your chest to rest my hands on your breasts.

You murmur, turn your head and kiss me. Long, deep, slow.

You rise and fall with my breath, a heavy blanket.

Peaceful, calm.

I roll to the side, until I lie on top of you, pressing down, mashing your tits into my palms.

My slathered cock nested in the groove of your ass, my balls resting on your thighs.

Your shins brace my knees and waggle in the air above us.

You spread your legs wide and begin to lift your hips up to lift me.

I stiffen and get harder.

I lift off you entirely and, standing beside the bed, I comb your sweat-damp, crumpled and tangled hair with my fingers,

After a long brief time I have spread your tresses out in a golden fan, hanging off both sides of the bed and reaching your ankles - as it always does

I am so glad you have acceded to my wishes - my desires - to not cut your hair.

You have adopted my kink - as you have adopted them all.

As I have adopted yours

Love.

You still lie facedown, your hair a fine golden sheet draped over and emphasizing the curves and hollows of your back, almost like paint.

Damn, Sweet, you are magnificent

I divide your hair in two, parted in the middle, and drape each half over the sides of the bed.

I kneel on the bed, straddling you, sitting on your thighs.

My cock lies in the groove of your ass and you flex your cheeks delighfully under me. carressing my balls lying at the shelf above your thighs.

I lift a thin strand of your gold from the left side of your hairline, at the most forward and lowest point. and move it to tuck under the right section.

I repeat that from the other side, tucking that strand under the left.

The next strand I lift from the left, just above the first on your hairline, I snug it up a bit, before mirroring that from the right.

I repeat, alternating left and right, keeping each plait tight against your skull and pull tight with each progressing overlap.

The tighter the braid, the better.

At each iteration, the full length of the thin strand I am working on drags like a lazy snake across your back, riding the plateaus and valleys of your well-toned muscles.

Each time you shiver at this and your ass flexes beneath m.

I respond with an echoing shiver, myself, and my cock stiffens and lengthens.

You feel that and begin to clinch under my shaft, shallowly lying in your groove.

After I have gathered all the hair on your head into this lengthening braid, I begin to procede more quickly, each strand defined by its place in the overlaps.

It is more important now that I keep it tight, and with each crossing I tug more firmly, pulling your head up and back, arching your neck and lifting your face off the pillows.

Eventually, inevitably, I have made the braid is so long I can no longer work it comfortably, so I slide down your thighs, my cock now cradled between them.

With me on top of your, straddling your, your legs are trapped between mine and I realize I am deliberately squeezing them tightly together.

Things proceed and I notice our deep breathing is now synchronized, deep and slow.

The braid continues to lengthen, of course, and eventually I again find it awkward to continue.

I take your left wrist, lift it and guide it to the back of head.

I slide the braid up to your head, anchoring it under your hand so that I can again freely intertwine each strand.

I begin to feel the increasing heat of your cunt beneath the head of my cock.

I reach down and press myself tightly down, so that I am gripped between your thighs.

I lay another bight of the braid at the back of your head, on top of your hand and, lifting your right wrist, lay it on top of it to again allow me to work at ease.

It is no longer necessary for me to pull your head up by the braid, but I do, simply because it excites me to force you to arch your neck.

I have, in fact, pulled more firmly and now your shoulders are also off the mattress, arching your back and pressing your tits down more firmly.

It excites me, of course, to see both hands behind your head, gently fixed by the layings of the plait I am so tightly braiding.

You dense honeyed hair is even more exciting to me, ridged and tightly valleyed as the morning sun angles in through the slatted blinds, laying stripes across your back.

My cock twitches again, not surprisingly, but insistently

You feel that and raise your hips slightly, lifting me a couple centimeters or so.

I sit more deeply, pressing your cunt down into the mattress and you wriggle beneath me saucily.

I lay the strands in my right hand orderly to the side, very carefully fanning them out to preserve their divisions.

I lift my hips slightly and slot my hand between us to press my cock between your thighs, dragging my head across your asshole to the damp furnace of your cunt.

I slide forward, driving slowly, steadily, without resistence, into you.

When my pelvis mashes your ass, you clutch me and hold me snug and deep.

I recover the strands I had laid aside and continue my work on your braid.

I do not pump, nor do you.

You rest quietly beneath me, gently accepting my sheathed rod.

As I pull your hair - admittedly, a sexual core excitement of mine, occasionally I twitch inside you.

You respond with a tightening grip.

We both continue to lie still, neither of us pumps or twists. Instead, we quietly commune through our most intimate organs.

After what seems like an hour in heaven, I arrive at the end of the braid, leaving only short ends of the strands. I reave the loose ends in a backsplice into the finished braid to dock it tight.

I feel my cock grow thicker and longer at the sight of your beautiful hair so well-ordered. And laced through your hands, held gently at the back of your head.

And your back so beautifully arched, pressing your cunt hard into the mattress.

I press into you - not really believing it possible, but your ass cheeks yeild and you accept me eagerly.

You clutch and twist under me and I draw back and, pulling your hair more firmly, I drive into you forcefully.

You let out an open-throated shout of pained ecstasy.

I begin to jam harder, faster. You throw your hands from your head to the mattress and brace yourself against my assault. And begin to lift, accepting each intrusion. More than accepting, encouraging, welcoming, demanding.

It does not take long before I shoot into you and my weight falls heavily onto you. You relax your arms and we collapse in a panting pair.

I begin to feel that my resting weight is crushing you, though you do not complain or stop caressing my cock with your talented cunt.

Very subtle shifting of your hips is constant stimulation.

Well practiced.

You know what I like.

And you do what you like.

I roll off to lie on your left and I pull you to press against my side.

You shift down a squdge, wriggling to tighten against me.

You nuzzle your head against my shoulder, laying on my left arm. I cup your tit, tapping, circling and pinching your nipple. I toy with the ring through your nipple, flipping it up and letting it fall.

You moan softly and snuggle closer.

We are content

And oblivious.

Most pleasant.

The door bell rings.

"Oh, crap."

I look for the clock, realize we've knocked it to the floor, but I know what time it is.

"We got caught up, Sweet." I look into your eyes as you turn to look at me.

"That's Peter, come to install the cameras and lights in the basement."

You look questioningly at me.

"Yeah, I called him and forgot to tell you."

I lift you and gently set you aside.

"I'll go deal with him, we'll be in the basement. It's time for you to get ready to go to school."

You sit up, one leg folded under your butt, and sigh.

"You go on and take a shower and - as you leave take care of your mother." I shake my head, sorry to add to her get-away time. "She's surely got to shit. And piss. If she's pissed the floor, make her clean it up with her tongue."

You giggle. "Really?"

"You know it."

I pull on jeans and, grabbing a shirt, hurry down as the doorbell rings again.

I'm down the stairs and opening the door quickly.

"Hi, Peter."

"Yeah, hi."

He is standing beside a Magliner hand truck loaded with road cases.

"Come on in," I hold the inner door open for him. "The basement's down behind the stairs."

I lead the way down the short hall to the door.

I notice him look into the living room as we pass. I know he's seeing your mother lying where we left her, naked, draped face-down over the coffee table, legs streched wide with knees bound to the legs at each end, wrists tied to elbows behind her back, the whip still around her neck, binding her tight to the table.

The scarlet hue has faded from her ass and back, most of the welts receding, and the bruising lashes and pecks of nine-tail and crop nearly faded.

The floor beneath her suggests she may need to use her tongue this morning.

I hear the shower running upstairs as I help Peter heft the cases down into the basement.