“Nice?”
I manage a nod.
“A little more, perhaps?”
Another nod. I brace for it.
The vibrations increase a little, becoming more powerful now, the ripples nibbling at my clit. I gasp, squeezing my inner muscles around the smooth shell of the toy. My release is starting already, punching forward to seize and control.
“Ewan…?” My cry is fractured as he turns up the dial still further. My orgasm is unstoppable. Convulsions start in my cunt, spreading out to shake my entire body as I spin and whirl, my senses scrambled. Ewan’s mouth is on my stomach, open-mouthed kisses damp across my skin. His palms are on my hips, holding me still as the vibrator continues its inexorable humming. My climax passes, but still the toy trembles within me, the shuddering increasing as Ewan ramps it up still further.
I stiffen, my ankles resting on Ewan’s shoulders as he nibbles his way down my lower abdomen to take my engorged clit in his mouth. Now he adds delightful suction to the mix, which increases the intensity tenfold. Now I know. Now I understand what he meant about the stimulation becoming too much, drowning me in so much pleasure that it would be unbearable. But not yet. Not quite yet.
I come again. It seems as though the world has slipped into slow motion as I am dragged, helpless, over the precipice. Then I’m drifting, weightless as my body spins and tingles under the onslaught. I stretch my arms furtherbehind me, my fingers reaching for something, anything to cling to. I find nothing, so settle instead for clamping my pussy walls hard around this shivering, shaking, pulsing plug buried in my cunt.
As this orgasm recedes, my body relaxes, expecting peace, seeking respite. There is none. Ewan’s lips, teeth, his wicked tongue continue to caress my clit while the vibrator, if anything, increases in tempo. Surely I can’t… He won’t…
Wrong. I can. He will. He does. The pulsating cranks up another notch and I am powerless to resist it. A third orgasm is drawn from my shuddering, tired body, my hips lifting and thrusting as though to deny my utter passivity in this. Ewan is in control, I can only react, respond.
The sensation peaks and passes, and my body is still once more. My breathing is laboured now, hot and moist within my cotton cocoon. I’m sated, quite replete. Surely he’ll stop now.
No. The vibrations feel perhaps a little less intense—either he has had the mercy to reduce the power a touch, or maybe I’m becoming acclimatised—but there is no sign of this stopping. Ewan is still suckling on my clit, scraping his teeth across the tip. He is using his thumbs to peel back the hood so my most sensitive bud is completely at his mercy, exposed, vulnerable.
I shiver, though not entirely with arousal now. This is too much, too drastic, intense pleasure on the cusp of becoming agony. I know now what Ewan meant, why he gave me that instruction.
“Stop. Enough,” I force the words past dry lips, my face now creased in concentration as I seek some relief from this acute pressure. I’m scared now, worried that he may not hear me, or if he does he may decide I can handle just a little more. Just the tiniest bit more.
The pulsating slows. Ewan releases my clit to take hold of the end of the vibrator. He swirls it around within my pussy, pressing the shaft against my inner walls as the slow,steady beat mingles with my own rhythms. I purr as the tempo matches and aligns with my own heartbeat, relaxing into a boneless heap of sensual flesh, at one with my lover and this magical, wonderful toy.
My final climax is slow, a gentle build-up of the comfortable, the delightful, the restful. This time I tumble soft and willing into the cosy, welcoming warmth, my pussy quivering in delicate surrender.
Long moments later I become aware of Ewan’s low, rich voice, murmuring something to me. I shake my head, confused, then screw up my eyes in sudden shock as the light hits me. He has eased the vest from over my face and released my arms. His palms are on my breasts, massaging, shaping, his thumbs now just grazing the tender peaks. He speaks to me again, but still I can’t catch it.
“What did you say? I can’t hear—”
“I asked, my beautiful little slut, if you would kindly consent to allowing me to fuck you. Or have you had enough?”
Dazed, I make an effort to pry my eyelids apart. Ewan is smiling at me, his expression warm and, and what? There’s something else in his face, something I struggle to name. Possession? Pride? Ownership? But if he owns me, why is he asking permission? Why so polite?
I sigh as the now still and silent vibrator shifts inside me. Ewan is withdrawing it, sliding it slowly from my sated body. It’s gone, leaving me empty. Bereft.
“Faith, I want to fuck you, but I need you to say yes. Say it, babe. Please.”
“Yes. Of course, yes.”Why would he think otherwise?
I have no time to ponder this conundrum before he drives his cock deep into the space vacated by the vibrator. He matches it for size, both in length and girth, but he’s warmer. Vibrant. A living, hot, solid erection. The real thing.
I reach for his shoulders, dragging myself semi-upright to crush my face into his chest, still clad in a loose black T shirt. Wrapping my legs around his hips, I become aware of the rough denim rubbing against my calves. He has managed to remain fully clothed whilst I lay, naked and unravelling, on his desk. This realisation arouses me again, closet submissive that I am.
That is my last coherent thought for a while as Ewan thrusts hard and deep, seeking his own pleasure now. I squeeze around him, begrudging him nothing. His breathing thickens, his arms encircling my shoulders as he leans forward to lower my torso back onto the surface of his desk. His body blankets mine now, his cock buried balls-deep inside my cunt.
He stands. I open my eyes. He is towering over me, large, imposing. He sees me, smiles, his face transformed by a unique combination of dimples and intense concentration. He lowers his eyelids, withdraws his cock, then slams it back inside me right to the hilt. He holds that position, and I watch the play of something akin to pain twist the gorgeous features on his face. This gives way to slack-jawed relief as he spurts a thick jet of viscous semen against my cervix.
He bends at the hip to drop a sweet kiss against my earlobe.
“Mmm, needed that.” He pauses, then, “Do you suppose that tea would go in the microwave?”
Chapter Eight
