As the barrier crashes down within him, crumbling to reveal his true self, tears then finally begin to form. I see the subtlest glint and can't help wetting my own lips with my tongue in anticipation –in between my incessant tirade, the code to unlock his complete submissive self.
The spotlight centred on my naked, kneeling body is bright enough to just reveal the dark forms stood in a circle surrounding me. I feel the men's presence, rather than see them; I'm seeing the scene through my mind's eye in any case, with my eyes squeezed tightly closed, blocking out reality, even while it commands my full sensory attention.
If my husband knew the way I thought about Carl, he would have freaked. If he only knew that I tended garden in my high-cut jean shorts and tight white tank top in the hopes that Carl would be outside mowing the lawn, washing his car, or even just getting the mail. If he only knew that I bent over, intentionally pushing my ass into the air, and spreading my legs, hoping that the tiniest hint of my thick lips could be seen pushing against the rough fabric. My body begged for Carl to look over and think about sucking on me.
Then we're connected. The warm tip of his erection presses against my puckered, lube-slicked hole, expertly seeking its sheath as his hands remain holding me spread. Thanks to his thoughtful, teasing preparation, the head of his cock slips inside. I feel, rather than hear, him groan above me as he fights against instant self-indulgence and forces himself to take time over his conquest.
Moan turned to determined grunt as those well-travelled fingers pushed my hip forwards; the dawn of a quest. Index and middle finger expertly sought out the slippery wetness his attentions had generated so far. My breaths turned ragged and heavy as he slid a finger inside me, probing and testing, then another... opening me up and finger fucking me. My nipples were hard against the covers and his other arm slipped round underneath me, seeking the weight of my breasts to complete the sinful encircling.
The whispers of those seated at the back were muffled by the whoops surrounding the drawn-out kiss of joy at the altar, until a natural settling revealed the click-clack of my heels on the stone. A wave of anxious whispers and angry mutters accompanied my approach to the still lost-in-each-other bride and groom, which turned to gasps of shock as I undid and threw off the hideous overcoat without breaking stride.
They were miles away from each other, but a heat linked them as they spoke. She was reclining in her bed, ready to drift to sleep. Alone in his room, he was kneeling beside his own bed. She enjoyed the sweetness of it, knowing he was that way for her, and the similarity to the pose to that for nighttime prayers did not escape her.
He pulled her down with hands on her upper thighs, and there was pure joyful malice in her eyes as she become the bull rider to his bull. His hands were all over her beautiful body and her sounds of ravaged pleasure filled my ears, hitting me like a slap, again and again.
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It was just an hour from when I got her message to when I arrived. Just an hour. Now, looking back, it seems almost impossible that there was just an hour of intermission between my old life to my new reality.
I couldn’t say how much time had passed since the last of the suits had demonstrated their pleasure at Master & I’s X-rated performance. The chair back dug into my arms, while Master’s tie chafed my tightly bound wrists. It hadn’t taken much persuading for more ties to be donated. Legs spread, ankles bound separately to the chair legs and my mauled tits and well-fucked entrance on full, humiliating display.
By Cara Sutra: There was a timid knock at the door. I knew it was him, he was exactly on time. A good start. The instructions I'd placed in the package had been perfectly clear. Wear these items when you visit on Monday morning, at 10am sharp. Let yourself in the main entrance, then come find Me in my dressing room. You will kneel, knock and wait for permission from Mistress to enter.