Indecipherable Scrawlings

The kitchen gleamed beneath the constant glare of the overhead lights and sunlight gently streaming through the windows.  No place for shadows, no way to overlook any imperfections, no place to hide.  Something she was acutely aware of as she stood naked in the middle of it all.

Technically she was not completely naked.  Tall black high heels protected her feet from the chilly tiles, heavy black cuffs linked her wrists, a blindfold kept out the light but not the knowledge she was completely exposed, and a plug buzzed away happily in her ass.  But such scant coverings did nothing to lessen the feeling of complete exposure as she stood with feet wide apart, bent slightly forward for her hands to rest on the tabletop.  It was a view I greedily devoured.  Drinking in her curves, the gentle flush of her skin, the sway of her hips in response to the vibrating plug.  Seeing the nervous finger tapping, noting how it warred with her obvious excitement and gleaming anticipation.

She yelped.  Only fair as I grabbed the chain of her cuffs and yanked them forward without warning.  In one hard tug I pulled her onto the table, securing the cuffs in just the right spot so her legs could almost support her but lacked the reach to be properly planted.  Gingerly I reached out to stroke her hair and at first she flinched away.  She knew it was me, but since I was silent she could not know it was me.  Offering reassurance with one hand I used the other to slowly fill her mouth with her own panties, my hands temporarily working at cross purposes.

Walking slowly around her I fight down the urge to simply skip to the end.  My self control straining as my fingers first brush her pussy, so very wet and inviting, ghosting down her outer lips.  She does her best to open herself for me, knowing what we both want.  It takes a moment for me to remember that it is not simply animal lust, but control.  The kind of control that allows her to simply exist in a moment without worries.  The kind of control that allows her to feel only the sensations I desire.  The kind of control that lets me take my idle fantasies and force reality to conform to them.  Allowing us to share a singularly perfect moment.  But to get there today we'll have to cool off a little.

My first step in that direction, was actually not.  The plastic might have been cool to the touch but warmed as the dildo slid effortlessly into her.  I gently worked it in and out, feeling her react.  The squeezing as she tries to keep it inside her, the little motions of her hips as she tries to rock back into my thrusts, the trembling as the buzzing plug pushes down on this new interloper and makes them hum.  Every thrust pushing her closer to a cliff already crumbling beneath her toes.  Without warning I pull out and before she has a chance to appreciate that I push a little ice ball into her.  The dildo forces the sphere of cold deep into her burning pussy, and her body convulses around it.  She is just beginning her muffled scream as the second ice ball slides in.  It and the third's passage eased considerably by a trickle of ice water flowing out and down a leg suddenly awash in goosebumps.  Holding the three balls in place with the dildo I use my feet and hands to stop her from reacting.  Making her stay still as fire and ice war within her.  Forcing her to feel it all.

It is only as the cold's seeping numbness begins to dull the sensation that she begins to truly relax.  It is then my hand swings down.  The resounding thud covers any noise she might have made.  My other hand swings up from the bottom.  The first comes back in from the side.  Speed, force, direction all different.  Never letting her settle.  The angry red imprint of my hand blossoming over her still swaying ass.

Alternating hands not only on her but on the dildo I feel the resistance lessen.  She is too needy, the situation too hot for the ice to hold out long against her fire.  One final stinging spank and I push myself into her.  Straight into bliss.  Her heat quavers around me, mixing with the last lingering ice swirls and the resounding vibrations through her thin walls to massage my entire length.  Sliding my hands up along her back I savor this second.  And the next as my fingers rake back down.  My hips slamming against hers as I urgently fill her.  The soft flesh of her hips yielding beneath my iron grip.  Muffled moans and hungry growls filling the bright kitchen.  A fitting soundtrack for the wanton display as we thunder towards the edge.

There is one final, savage growl as bodily flip her onto the table and her back.  My hand finding her ankles.  My thrusts returning as forceful as before.  Even as I finally plunge over the edge myself.

Really I was just looking to get up.  Morning are a time to get up and begin anew, regretfully.  I just wanted to get up, brush my teeth, and wash away the traces of last night's activities that had left me drifting off to sleep still panting for air.  Make myself vaguely presentable before engaging in morning's only redeeming feature, having breakfast.  But I couldn't because my arm was trapped.

Admittedly trapped in the best way possible.  By a beautiful women sprawling across it, displaying the wonderful color coming into my marks to a literally captured audience.  Still I wasn't impatient and had some experience surreptitiously withdrawing without waking someone else.  But I was not having any luck, my arm was stuck fast.  It it was only as I flexed some feeling back into the dull but prickly limb that I felt it.  A grip around my wrist.  A certain ironic indignation stirred in me as I pulled a little harder.  The grip tightened as she shifted seemingly innocently in her sleep to increase the weight on my arm.  But I would not be denied my bacon.

The next determined tug pulled the arm, the hand gripping it, and the girl tumbling towards me.  Squawking and flailing she was rolled beneath me.  I found her wrists and dragged them back, pinning them behind her.  The squawking turning to moans as I ground my hip into an ass angry with fresh bruises.  One quick shove silenced her by the simple expedient of forcing her head into the mattress, but brought her ass higher.  And all the sudden I was up with no interest of getting out of bed.  Or patience.

I slammed my hip into her, slapping my cock into her exposed and tender pussy.  Again and again.  Drawing my length through her slit only to slap it back.  But the morning is no time for foreplay and I felt only hunger.  I slammed into her.  Forcing myself deep even as she screamed out my welcome.

Then my fingers were digging deep into her hips.  Holding her in place with cruel strength as I hammered down.  Giving in completely to the roaring need within me.  The hunger.  The desire.  The sheer madness as I used her.  Slamming away as my growls joined her debauched cries to shatter the morning's silence.  Till with one last throaty cry I burst and collapsed.

After the pounding in my ears receded I became aware of her bemused grin poking out of disheveled hair.  Also that she was speaking, "So how about breakfast?"

Still panting I grinned back, and reached down to gently stroke the hair from her face, "Shower first."

And with those words I grabbed a fistful of hair and began pulling her along for another attempt at starting the morning.

I was prompted to write this and I think it turned out well so I decided I'd share it here.  If you're not comfortable with CNC I'd probably stop reading after this bad joke.  There are 10 kinds of people in the world, those that know binary and those who don't.

You wake up, but are not ever sure of that. There is no light, no sound, only the pounding of your heart. Your body is week, numb, cold. For a terrifying moment you think you might be dead and are plunged into nothingness. It's only the taste of rubber separating sore jaws and gagging you that provides any hint of sensation and shows it might not be over.

The thousands of prickling daggers shooting into you as ice water splashes over you makes you regret that. The thought you had been cold before vanishes as you begin to feebly shiver. Any hope that might warm you vanishes as your tits are plunged into water that burns before stabbing icicles into you.

Your trembling gradually makes you more aware of your body. Hunched together over a plastic tub slowly cutting it to your neck and thighs as it fills with icy water. Heavy chains hold you together, but they too are frozen. It seems there is no warm in the world.

Until you feel a hot rob threatening to split you open. Stabbing into you. One massive thrust to bury it in your cold body. You try to scream but there is no sound. An attempt to move is met by a hard blow raking along your back. You are trapped, helpless and worst of all thankfully. You cling to the warmth, desperately trying to hold it in you. Ache when it leaves. Rejoice at each hard hammering thrust.

And they go on and on. Time ceases to have any meaning. There is only that hard, unceasing jackhammering. It swells inside you. Throbbing. Filling you. Until it burst, flooding you with heat as you mind blanks with pleasure.

A little while later you begin to stir. It's hard as warmth envelopes you in a cocoon of softness. Blankets are piled on after the other atop you, pushing you down into the hospital bed. The room is bright and filled with sounds. You make some feeble noise and attract the attention of the nurse.

They're worried. They say you had a bad reaction to the anesthesia, went into shock. That you've been in the ICU for a whole day.

But you know that's not true. You can still feel the warmth oozing inside you.

The funny thing about languages and seemingly English in particular is the propensity for the definition of a word to shift over time.  Normally this manifest in wonder what the hell some guy a hundred years is talking about but it's not all bad.

For example at one point calling someone a slutty slut wouldn't just demonstrate a lack of creativity.  It would instead accurately describe a slovenly person of loose morals.

Also fun to say

"Yes but there is something to be said for dragging her physically to the bedroom.  Sets the tone.  Let's her know that can struggle and thrash all she wants, but you will simply overwhelm her.  That in the end she will end up where you want and you will have your way with her."

It was at this point I realized the waitress had arrived...

The United States Navy has very humble origins.  Starting with just six frigates; United States, Constellation, Constitution, Congress, Chesapeake, and President.  Even with so few ships there was considerable discussion on their names.

Obviously there was some concern that the United States might go down in flames.  Though no one would be shocked to learn Congress leaked, was rudderless, and was driven by hot air.  But there was also some worry that one day the papers would publish stories on how the President was run down, grappled, taken, and dragged away full of hostile seamen.

The music thundered, pulsing physically against my chest.  Its beat having no effect on the crowd jousting up against me that moves to its own disjointed rhythm.  Each movement adding the sweltering heat that is cause and symptom of the madness spreading with the booming music.  Though the only grip I am aware of is that of delicate fingers interlaced, a slender teether preventing the crowd from swallowing us up.

Suddenly there is a door.  Beyond is darkness or so it seems after the strobing insanity.  I whirl pulling her close, pulling her into darkness.  Pinning her to the wall I bend down and our lips meet.  Heat and madness pulse between us as the music vibrates around us.  There is need and excitement as I fumble for the lock.

"Don't bother."  She whispers, already fumbling st me zipper.

Stopping her with some reluctance I take her wrists and pull her deeper into the room.  Her eyes glint with mischievous desire in the pale yellow light filtering in through the windows.  Casting a golden hue over her skin and darken her dress.  Stumbling blindly into a couch I transform my awkwardness into a smooth move that draws her down onto my lap in a totally convincing way that fools no one.  Not that it matters as our lips combine and our arms wrap around each other.  She begins to slide hot, damp silk over my member straining to be free.  I increase my grib, holding her still.  All her desire flows to her lips and I feel myself slipping into mindless lust.  More so as I kiss down her neck and feel her heart hammering while her nails scrap across the back of my neck.  Still I master the impulse to give in and start to master her.  A move that only drives her to push harder to overwhelm me.

As I nibble her shoulder I pull at her straps.  Drawing the dress down, pulling her arms down with it, to bunch the fabric over her stomach.  My teeth chase the fabric only to be way laid by two wonderful mounds.  Letting out just a hint of aggression as I sample her with growing force.  My hands complete bundling the dress by drawing it up before returning to her hips.  My grip growing harder as my teeth slide firmly along a nipple.  The heat between us oppressive, crackling with possibility.

Lifting her from my lap I tell her what I want.  She is eager to comply.  Underwear is shifted and I am free, the air feeling frigid along my shaft compared to the luxurious heat my head buried itself in.  For a moment she struggles against my grip.  Knowing we are both desperate for the joining and might find ourselves discovered at any moment.  But making her wait pleases us both.  Only very slowly do I lower her, roaring all the while against the voices in my head screaming to just do it.  Letting her adjust and welcome me, pacing my limited control as I descend into bliss.  I hold us together, joined intimately in the cascade of life pulsing around us.  Then I lift her, my own patience at an end.  I begin to pump her up and down, feeling her melt completely into my control.  Doing my best to thrust my hips in sync with her.  We arch our backs, giving the heat some room to escape as it threatens to scald us.  Lustful eyes suddenly thoughtful as she realizes I am treating her like a toy.  A thought that was a bit too much.  I feel her tensing as I loose myself and let loose.  Her head snaps back as she bites her lip, stifling a scream.  Quivering as she clamps down around me, fingers digging her thighs.  I continue, slamming into her.  Forcing more and more pleasure into her as her entire body shakes.  Going on until the wracking waves begin to subside and some semblance of awareness returns to her eyes.  And nervousness.  She shouldn't have done that.

I smile knowingly.  Lifting us both up with grunting effort.  Turning and dumping her back down.  It only takes a few strokes for my own climax to arrive.  I begin tracing ropes over her heaving chest.  Going on until I have no more to give and a not inconsiderable mess glistens in the pale light.  With trembling fingers I take off her disheveled panties.  Then I collapse next to her.  Cuddling and smiling in exhausted pleasure.  Tender kisses reassure her but I can sense some nervousness that lingers even after we recover.

"So how are you going to punish me?"  She asks as I help her dress, with a dubious glance at the cum that just barely shows now.

Pushing her panties into a back pocket but leaving them clearly visible I answer, "Oh not too harshly.  We do have to walk back out through that mob."

She stands on the threshold.  In the threshold technically, but the wide archway between two brilliantly sunlight rooms has been transformed.  Taught ropes trail from hidden eyelets to give her the aspect of an eager ready for flight.  She strains against the restraints not out of discomfort but because she wants to curl and flex in response to be buzzing vibrator that bounces against it's securing tape to kiss an already electrified clit.  But mostly she'd like to look behind her to see what I am doing.

For a moment I merely enjoy the view.  Drink in the glistening skin and luxurious hair drawn into a tight bun, while sparing time to properly appreciate the curves of her ass.  I step forward, silently and reach out reveling how the flickering light adds shadows to her wonders.  The first drop of wax hits her shoulder and she yelps in surprise.  She purrs at the next.  Quickly allowing herself to enjoy the warm cloying rain slowly tracing down her back.  The shower continues until she no longer flexes away from the hot drops the I pool some wax in my hands.  Reaching out I run that hand around her neck, the other carefully snuffing out the candle I place on the table.  She leans into the heat as my fingers wrap around her slender throat, firmly pulling back her head, the wax quickly binding us together.  Leaning forward around her I kiss eager lips.

That kiss muffles a scream as I plant the ice cube on the nape of her neck.  Our combined heat melting it quickly as I trace her spine.  Rivulets of cold water running down, drawn naturally into her ass as she starts to strain more.

Breaking our kiss I replace my tongue with the melting ice chip.  And new one appears as I knell, nose suddenly filled with her scent this time I do not stop with her spine I move lower.  My hand washed when ice water as I trace the lips of her pussy.  Her heat too much for the poor ice and it fades away.  Unlike my ardor.  I need her now.

Finders raking up her sides I reach around her.  Nails dragging up, leading hands to swallow tender breasts.  Rough motions rolling hard nipples.  I follow my arms, into a vaguely uncomfortable position,  but I don't care.  I slam into her.  Lingering ice water giving way completely to the furnace inside her.

There is no gentleness in my actions, I am beyond the capacity for that.  I need this as much as she wants this.  Her breathing already ragged takes on a desperate eager.  But the third shuddering thrust she is repeating "please".  Turning the only coherent word in her question into a mantra.  A prayer.

I answer it, "Cum for me."

The concrete is rough and unfinished, a thousand little needles pushing into soft and welcoming flesh.  Strands of the finest silk enwrap limbs in a grip of iron.  Fatigued limbs trembling with the effort not to release their burden onto a support presses sharply into her most intimate folds.  Buzzing fills the air as our ragged breathing thunders and yet all is silent between us.  A thousand distractions call for her attention but there is only one thing in her mind.  Her eyes follow the arm already feeling the leather tails.

It is the hardest blow but my softest kiss.

My kiss spoke only of need.

It had been a long day.  One interspersed with flirtatious smiles, entendres, and fleeting touches.  I had teased and smiled as I saw the blush rose in her cheeks, but that was all a slow careful chase.  When her lips brushed against my ears as she offered up a single husky prayer of, "please" it became something else.

My hands pinned her neck my lips found hers and I devoured her.  It was a kiss I was not willing to relinquish even as it frustrated my attempts to remove her blouse.  The sound of tearing cloth announced my direct and highly simple solution to that minor development.  I continue to strip her as I drive her back against the counter, using its solid edge to help pull away her pants as I lift her.  Its nothing to lift her, though she squeals with excitement.  She reaches for my belt as I move my fingers dig deep into her supple ass, but I stop her.  I am enjoying the feel of her against me, how she is burning with need.  Allowed to melt into that delightful little slut she has to keep tucked away.  Eager to be taken.  Claimed.

And I want the world to see what a wonderful creature she is.

I don't give her a chance to wonder why I'm not just taking her on the counter.  I carefully (or as careful as any man splitting his attention between a naked woman, a hungry kiss, and navigating a room blind) make my way to the window.  She gasps the cold glass touches her back.  I spin her and for a moment she looks at the distant lights twinkling across the bay.  Then she groans as I wind my hand into her hair, taking a fist full and pushing her into the glass.  Pressing myself into her.  The glass fogging as out heat drives away the cold.  My free hand reaches down to guide me into her, then painfully smacks into window as I drive forward.  My need has a new outlet and I do not take my time.  Each thrust threatens the thick windows as I force us together.

Growling out pleasure as I explain just how perfect she is for this.  The whispered suggest that someone might actually see us brings a particularly large spasm.  I go on,  About how I don't care.  Let them watch I say.  Let them see and be jealous of my wonderful little whore.  An instrument of pure pleasure.  So obedient.  So sweet.  So eager.  So welcoming.  So ready.  So frantic.  So naughty.

Yanking back on her hair I stare into desperate, questioning eyes.  Snarling a smile I give her what she wants.  Her favorite command before covering her screaming finish with my mouth.

Drowning it in a needy kiss.