admin

The house feels both stuffy and cold.

This is an entirely new feeling for her, as just months earlier she was one of those individuals who required a chilly base temperature of 68 degrees in order to remain in homeostasis. But it's been uncomfortably cold in her home these days, and thus the outdoors calls to her with its mild, mid-70s evening air. So she gathers her supplies (phone, blanket, flipflops) and slips out the kitchen door into her backyard.

Padding across the porch, she barely looks up as she makes her way to the furthest part of the yard where she's strategically placed her hammock. She laughs inwardly as she begins to sit. It's taken about six months to finally get to the point where she can semi-gracefully lay herself down without a catastrophic flipping, tumbling, and swearing to the gods old and new, situation, and she smiles gently as she does, reveling briefly in the accomplishment. It is the small things in life after all.

After settling in and wrapping her blanket around her bare legs, she checks her phone idly for him. He's nowhere at the moment though; not in group chat or in their private space. She takes the opportunity to scroll through the days multileveled conversation. Some of it banal (work is work and will always be work), and some of it important in ways which can't be described (though oh, how they've tried).

She grins at the dichotomy -- at the realness of this thing that started in the most artificial of places. Her grin mutes itself down to a half smile as she peacefully considers the rawness of their sometimes, though rare, mundanity: the hallmarks of their reality; the things that remind them, more than anything else, that they are just two people. Those stamps are proof that there is more to them than intense fantasy or amusing banter-filled frivolity -- those things which, while perfect in their own rights, also have a tendency to burn out quickly. 'No,' she thinks. 'There is more here.'

There lays with them a strong foundation.

A foundation which they have been building over these past months, piece by piece; moment by moment. And it's those small moments -- the tiny stones -- that seems to matter the most.

His hand silently outstretched for the crumpled receipt she would have tossed in her purse. He'll hold it until they find a trashcan.

Her lips on his forehead after she sets down his breakfast.

The cherishing look he gives her as he pushes her on a park swing.

The way they dance in the middle of the room; her twirling under his arm while he looks on with amusement.

"Well done, madam. Very nice."

She continues to read through their day with the tiny smile on her lips. Then, looking up towards the cloudless, starless, sky, she considers that there is far too much light pollution here, and she finds herself thinking -- yet again -- of going camping with him. The image of him relaxed in a chair, reading a book, and idly swaying her in the hammock fills her senses.

Staring up at the trees, she envisions that small moment, and soon she's gone to it; her breaths falling evenly as her body eases into slumber.

Then, suddenly she hears him. Odd, considering his hand is already over her mouth tightly, but her body is so attuned to hearing him first and foremost, that she must be unable to even process any other sensations before it.

"Keep quiet, kitten. It's just me."

Of course, it is. It's always him. To her, lately, it seems like all things are him until proven otherwise. Her eyes widen in surprise and eventual delight as he makes himself seen to her, closing in towards her. His eyes lock in on hers with an evil glint as he leans forward and presses his lips to her forehead gently; a juxtaposition that she knows she will never tire of.

He plants kisses lightly across her forehead and over to her ear as he quietly growls, "I need you kitten. And I'm going to take you right here in this backyard, do you understand?"

Her small and quick nod, made somewhat difficult by the restriction of his hand pressed tightly over her mouth, immediately sends familiar tingling sensations moldova escort through her body. He awakens her easily from both her slumber and from her sexual dormancy.

"Now," he says with an evil chuckle. "you're going to have to be a good girl and keep it down while I make you cum. Can you do that for me?"

She can sense that, while fully present in this moment, he's also clearly surrounded by a fog of need. She shivers and nods.

"Although," he goes on, ignoring her as he roughly runs his free hand down her body and easily under the waistband of her shorts, "I still fully plan to keep my hand over your mouth as I claim you. You know," he leans down to capture her earlobe between his teeth before whispering again, "just in case."

He cups the warmth between her thighs possessively for a moment as he stares deeply into her eyes, searching for something, and finding it. He smirks. Her need. There it is; fierce and fiery, pleading yet proud.

She knows that he wants to be inside her immediately. She knows this because he always wants to be inside her immediately. She smirks ever so slightly under his palm as she presses into his hand, and he feels the twitch of her lips. With this, his resolve to not urgently slide two fingers inside her and fuck her body senseless is strengthened. No, he will tease her first.

He releases her pussy from his grasp and she inhales sharply against his hand, realizing only now how tightly he had been holding her there. Blood rushes back to the area as he lightly begins to trace his finger up and down her wet slit before letting it rest gently against her clit and begin it's slow, maddening, circular teasing.

Her eyes widen and close on a constant loop as he circles her clit over and over, spreading her juices and taking his time in guiding her to a crashing orgasm. His pace remains steady as he watches the way her body undulates under his ministrations. Breaking his gaze away from the rhythmic movements of his hand in her shorts, he drags his eyes slowly up her body to meet hers. Still covering her mouth tightly with his other hand, he nods and mouths the words, "Good girl."

With that, her body twitches and her eyes close for longer than a moment. She tries and fails to be more present, but he makes her lose herself in the best possible ways.

Suddenly, her eyes shoot open as his fingers roughly penetrate her. His growl is low and satisfied as her pussy squeezes around him pulling him in. She watches him, though barely, through her periphery as her head thrashes to the side. He curls his fingers, finding her spot, and his evil grin indicates to her that he knows exactly what he's doing. He's reminding her that he knows her and knows precisely how to work her body to get what he wants from her. Exactly when he wants it.

He continues, mercilessly (she feels almost effortlessly) working towards what he wants -- sliding his fingers in and out of her pussy rapidly, curling them in just the right spots at just the right times to make her bite her lip under his hand in an impossible attempt to remain silent.

"You're going to nod your head right before you cum," he demands with eyebrows raised. "Do you think you can do that for me you gorgeous, desirable, perfect little slut?"

This last question is asked in a soft and patronizing tone, while he simultaneously, evilly, picks up the pace on her pussy; thrusting a bit harder and faster while abusing her clit with his thumb in a malevolent effort to make it difficult for her to respond.

Her eyes lock in on his as she silently growls in her mind (and tries to get him to see in her gaze) the thought, 'You, fucker.'

He chuckles amusedly with no small amount of malice.

Still, she nods. She can do that.

He growls from somewhere very deep.

Now, he spares her no gentle accommodation as he slams his fingers into her, palm slapping her clit on each upward angled stroke. Her thighs spread wide for him. He feels so fucking amazing. More often than not, all of her cognitive ability is sacrificed to the altar escort istanbul of his incredible skill, but sometimes she is barraged with a flood of what she can only describe as confused awe. How is he so amazing? How could he make her this wet? Why does his voice and laugh do things to her body that nothing else can?

"That's fucking right," he growls just loud enough for her to hear. "rock those hips into me."

Her eyes widen in surprise, eyebrows raised pleadingly. Had she been writhing without even knowing it? Where the fuck was she? What year is it? Dear fucking GOD.

It's rising now. That inevitable crash.

"Show me," he demands as he shifts his weight and uses all the leverage he can gather to slam his fingers into her pussy and slap his palm against her clit.

"Show me how much you fucking love this."

And so, she does; letting her hips rise and fall, chasing his hand, desperate to have him deeper. He groans and presses his hand firmly against her mouth as he locks eyes with hers.

"Don't you dare fucking look away. Don't you even fucking blink."

Frantically, she begins nodding as she knows she's about to cum, pleading up at him, his hand nearly sliding off her mouth as her head moves desperately up and down.

Then he stops everything.

And she wants to scream and thrash and groan and plead for him. But also, to strangle him to actual death. But she doesn't. Because now his hand has slipped away from covering her mouth, and has cupped the side of her head, his thumb caressing her cheek as he brings his other hand up to her mouth.

Lightly, he runs a couple wet fingers over her well-bitten bottom lip, and her tongue snakes out instinctively to capture and suck on them. Still frustrated, even more so now that his cocky grin hovers above her, she sucks on his fingers greedily. 'This fucker,' she thinks as she tries to pin him with her own flame filled gaze.

He laughs and smirks, watching her devour him.

Then, his grin falters.

She's grabbed his wrist and locked eyes with him yet again as she swirls her tongue around his fingers, taking them deep into her mouth. Now it's her turn to smirk.

But not for long. A switch has been flipped, and suddenly she is being grabbed and hoisted to her feet as he pulls her close and kisses her; hungrily tasting her essence before pulling back and turning her away from him, wrapping one hand tightly around her wrist and holding it behind her back. He tangles the other hand in her hair at the base of her skull and guides her roughly to a dark corner of the yard.

Her knees are already trembling and weak, so really, it's no trouble at all for him to push her roughly to the ground and follow suit. She thinks momentarily again of camping with him. A nearby lake. Him taking her in the firelight. As she considers that possibility, she's brought back to the present by the sensation of her shorts being torn down her body and the sound of his pants being unzipped and hastily pushed down to mid-thigh. He stares at her wickedly as his hands push her legs open, the familiar and perfected pull of her muscles reminding her what being well stretched feels like.

And then, just before he thrusts his precum dripping cock into her, his hand covers her mouth once again and he growls down at her, "Just so you know, you can cum for me now like I know you need to."

His cock slides easily balls deep inside her tight, soaking wet, pussy and he leaves it buried as he groans his appreciation. "It's inevitable that you will as I claim what's mine anyway."

And then he fucks her as only he can. His desirous stare filling her entire view. She momentarily considers the fact that she doesn't need to see stars when she has him above her like this -- there's no better view. She finds herself wondering again. Confused awe.

One part obstinate at being owned, one part pleading for more, and (so often at the forefront) one part pure fucking incredulity. How? How is it so good? Has it always been this good? Has this always existed? How could she have gone so long without it? People bulgar escort know about fucking, but do they know about THIS? How does he know exactly what to do and when to do it? How does it fit so. fucking. well? Just how?

His hunger, need, and malicious intent of complete and total ownership of her body rests on the surface of his face. He doesn't hide that he knows she's his as he watches her cycle through her puzzlement at their impossible connection. They both know that part of why she belongs to him is due to his ability to do this to her -- to know her, and see her, and give her what she needs while taking what's his. He uses her body for his own pleasure without remorse because he sees in her eyes that she desires exactly that. The positive feedback loop of both of them getting exactly what they need is the rarest form of pure decadence.

He confirms through gritted teeth his ownership of her as he quietly, confidently, cockily mutters his intentions to use her body. Fill her body. Claim her body. All the while his incessant, pounding, perfect rhythm continues on as he works towards his own need to cum.

Oh, and of course he brings her several crashing orgasms, but they go largely ignored on his part. He knew he would bring her pleasure. It was, as he said, an inevitability. The knowing of this fact lets him use her body for exactly what he chases. He can be nuanced another time, any time. She's his to use however he wishes. And right now, he wants to cum inside her wet willing pussy, and he knows she wants it too. Her eyes are begging, pleading, urging him to do it. Take what's his; give her what she wants.

He sees her egging him on and he leans down low as his breathing grows erratic and shallow. "You want me to fill your pussy full of my cum, don't you?" he asks rhetorically. "You want to feel me lose control and unload in you as you cum around my cock."

He continues the assault on her pussy and her mind as he growls depravities in her ear, knowing exactly what she needs to hear to get there.

Then he looks directly into her eyes again, gazes locked and foreheads pressed together tightly. She doesn't look away. She doesn't even blink.

"You are mine," he hisses "You are my incredible, beautiful, amazing, whore."

His last word escapes with a faltering gasp as he loses himself, holding her down tightly and cumming deep inside her pussy.

To their credit neither of them makes enough sound to alarm the neighbors. She gasps, her mouth wide open in silent pleasurable agony as he twitchingly fills her, while he hisses through gritted teeth continuing to fuck her through his own orgasm.

She watches him as he comes down from the place he was in. She sees the animal retreat as the man returns. She watches the evil malicious look fade as the adoring one takes over, and just before he leans down to kiss her passionately, she wipes her hand affectionately over his wet forehead. Their kiss lingers for several delicious moments before he drops down next to her and settles her into him so that he can rock their bodies gently on the soft grass.

She takes a deep inhale and lets her body melt into his as she releases the air back into the night. He kisses her forehead. They both catch their breath happily.

Then he makes a forever moment.

He pulls her to her feet, and walks them over to face a dark window of the house. He holds her to him tightly; arms wrapped protectively not possessively around her as his head rests on her shoulder, cocked to one side. He nods to the woman standing before them.

"I cherish you this way," he says quietly. "my cum dripping out of you, your hair tousled from the ground, and my kisses still visible on your skin."

He tilts his head slightly more to kiss her neck before continuing, "I cherish you that way just as much as I do when you are cuddled carefully in my arms. These are two sides of the same coin."

His hands run up and down her form before he kneels down to help her put her shorts back on.

As he slowly pulls them back up her body, planting kisses on the way up, she looks at herself, now alone in the reflection.

Her hair is tousled, but beautifully so. Her eyes are tired, but brimming with excitement. Her smile has some pain in it, but also resilience.

She looks at herself and sees, for the first time perhaps, that she is there.

She is there now.