Wednesday, January 18, 2012


“What does it feel like to know I’ll do anything you ask?”

She was lying on her bed, looking at me in the windowsill where I was smoking a Chesterfield her grandfather left over Christmas. It was freezing cold outside, but I was still covered in sweat and the air felt good against my skin.

“Something between fear, gratitude, and amazement.”

“Don’t you get off on the power?”

I turned to face her as I crushed out the cigarette, and I called her to me with one finger. She crawled across the bed until I could reach her hair with my hand; I wrapped my fist tightly in her blonde curls and pulled her hard towards me until her mouth opened around my cock.

I closed my eyes as I thrust into her mouth, and I tried to pay attention. I stood up as I continued to fuck her, and while she choked she never once stopped. She reached her hands around me and pulled me harder to her, and I knew instantly that she could take more than I could give.

I pinched her cheeks with one hand, squeezing her so tightly she coughed around me, and I moved faster and deeper as she took me into her throat. I took one of her hands and wrapped her fingers around my shaft, showing her how to squeeze me hard enough to make me come. Her ass was still pink from my spanking, and her skin was bright with goosebumps from the open window.

“Kneel,” I said suddenly, and she was off the bed and in front of me in seconds. She looked up and opened her mouth as my hand moved quickly towards my inevitable release.

“Beg,” I said, and she did. She pleaded with me and cried for me as I jerked off in front of her, and when I finally came she licked me clean without so much as a whimper.

I left her there as I climbed onto the bed and under the covers. She was still facing the window looking out, and I knew that if I stayed quiet she would remain still. I also knew that she could wait far longer than I could; I tugged on her hair and told her to come back to bed.

She nestled in against my body and it took long minutes for her to warm up.

“No,” I finally whispered as I held her to me under the warm comforter. “It doesn’t make me feel powerful at all. It makes me feel like I finally understand what you want. How about you?”

She kissed the crook of my neck and held me tighter.

“It makes me feel small, afraid, and confused. And it makes me feel like the most powerful woman in the world.”

I kissed her lips and she ran fingers through my hair. The air was still cold through the open window, and the pack of cigarettes crackled in the breeze.

Her body was warm and her heart beat was slow.