Stephanie waited, naked, on my floor, her face, her outspread arms and her breasts touching the carpet, and her ass up and poised.
It’s just about the sexiest position a woman can assume. Nothing says, “I need to be fucked,” like lordosis.
I bent down and touched her hair. I said, in my softest, gentlest voice, “Good girl.” Stephanie grunted. It was the thiurd time I’d told her, but now She was deeply in the state of mind in which “Good girl” is a comfort.
Then I pulled her hair, medium hard, to remind her who we were being to each other in that room, and while she sighed, taking that in, the knowledge that she was a girl who got her hair pulled, I lowered myself to the floor behind her, my knees between hers, my cock pressing urgently against her sweet and very wet cunt.
It wasn’t that she knew I’d punish her if she did, though I certainly would. It was that she liked this game and she wanted to be good. And maybe be called ‘good girl’ again.
So we stayed like that, Stephanie waiting, presented for fucking, being tormented.
I was tormented too, of course, but it’s different when you know when it’s going to and. Or begin.
I said, “Keep still. That’s a good girl.” It was so difficult not to take her immediately and hard. One hard push forward. But I let another minute pass, caressing the sides of her breasts, and moving my hands back to hold her, firmly, by her hips. Then at last I moved forward, letting the head of my cock touch slick, wet, needy cunt, and pressed a little further forward so her lips parted for half of the head of my cock. It was like being kissed in welcome. Stephanie made a sound that was close to a sob, then sucked in her breath. She knew she still didn’t have permission to move.
I mentioned at the start of this story that I’d known Stephanie for years. I knew her family, too. Stephanie was a spoiled girl. She’d never really needed permission for anything while she was growing up. Waiting for permission now, being obedient, was a new experience for her. Clearly, she was finding it hot, in this context.
I said, “Stephanie.”
“You can rock back now, and take more of me. Just the head of my cock. If you go further… Well, my belt’s on the floor here. Understand?”
There were a lot of things she could have said about that. But she took the belt threat without questioning it. She said, “Urrrrrnh.”
I hoped I wouldn’t have to use the belt. Not tonight; it wouldn’t fit the mood. But her acquiescence to the idea in principle made my cock just a little harder. I think she felt that.
She moved back, very carefully, impaling her soft centre on me. My glans covered in her, held tightly, I squeezed my fingers, hard, on her hips. We’d wanted each other for years. It was something to savour.
Stephanie’s face was turned back to look at me, and her mouth was open. She’d dribbled on the carpet. We moved forward, then back.
Neither of us had any thoughts, any things to say.
I moved forward a little further, then back, and then forward again. Stephanie started to move now that most of my cock was in her, rocking on her knees, fucking me, pleasuring herself.
At last my pubic bone and stomach pressed against her ass. We were fully joined. I said, “Stephanie, you are good. And sweet. And beautiful. And…”
She moved and I shut up. Suddenly, we were fucking as fast and hard as we could. My knees rubbed on the carpet, painfully, and I didn’t care. She was going to lose skin too.