One swallow doesn’t make a spring #25

Posted on June 22, 2013 by jaime

So she said, “There are dykes who’ll do you. They’ll bring you off with their hands, they’ll lick you till you come. Or they might put their knee, yeah, there. And kind of pulse you while they squeeze your, uh, breasts.”

“And that knee thing would get you off, would it?”

“Um… It has done. No, stop it! I’m trying to tell you something. Anyway, they’re stone cold dykes because they don’t let you touch them. They get your clothes off and they get you off, but they keep their clothes on and you don’t do anything to them, and they don’t come. Not with you, I mean me.”

“Well, that’s not me. Here. I’ve got my clothes off, I don’t know if you noticed…”

“Yeah, but -”

“And I haven’t got any come left …”

“Yeah, but -”

“It’s all in you.”

Stone cold

“Idiot. Silly man. Oh. Ah-huh. There might be a bit more, you know.” I leaned back and let her stroke her handful of soft cock. She was right. It wasn’t completely soft any more. “Okay, but you came in me because you fucked me. That’s physiology. But I didn’t get to fuck you; you never let me. You controlled me – that was interesting, by the way; that was good. I loved it. But I never controlled you. I lost it completely, I don’t think I knew the bed was here, I don’t think I even knew who I was. But you didn’t lose it at all, ever. You were completely in control of yourself. You stayed cold. You see?”

“Well, maybe. but I like being in charge. That’s sexy, for me. So of course I was getting off.”

“Yes. Up to a point.” My cock stirred, and staggered upright, just able to lift its own weight, as she said that. So she gave her attention to stroking it, and repeated, “up to a point”, over and over. I relaxed and let her, but eventually, half hard, I took her hand and stopped her.

She smiled, as if she’d won her point. “See what I mean? You have to stay in control. It’s okay. It’s just … I can’t see how you can have as good a time as I’m having.”

“Like this. Suck my cock.”

“Just like that? That’s not a very romantic thing to say.”

“Suck my cock right now, or I’ll spank you till your arse is the colour of a stop sign.”

“I didn’t really like it, much, when you spanked me.”

“Then if you don’t want another spanking, you’d better…” And her mouth, warm and moist and sweetly soft, enveloped my cock. “Ahhh.” I wouldn’t have spanked her, since she hadn’t given me permission to do things she didn’t like. But I did know that she liked to be ordered to do things.

So I made myself comfortable, pushing a little deeper and resting one hand on the back of her head, exactly because a gentleman doesn’t do that. Because I guessed she’d like me not to be a gentleman. I thought, as her head bobbed steadily, that I’d won something, though not necessarily the argument.

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #24

Posted on June 21, 2013 by jaime

As I’ve mentioned, Svitlana turned out not to like being spanked all that much, though she gave it a fair trial. But she liked other things. She liked having her nipples ill-treated. At first I did the nipple mistreatment with my fingers.

But later, I had her hands tied to the end of the bed, and her ankles held apart by a spreader bar, and I attached a pair of nipple clamps to her breasts, because I needed my hands to hold under her bottom while I lifted and licked her.

I’m not going to write about most of that night, because it was just sex. We said very little during it. I don’t think that we thought much, either. I know I didn’t. So there’s not so much to say about it, except that it was good. It was a gold and silver night, honey and lightning.

So we were tired when we collapsed, some time that was more like morning than it was night.

We lay together comfortably, satisfied with each other. And Svitlana mused, “You’re like a stone cold lesbian.”

And I said, “I have no idea what that means, but I bet I’m not.”

So we’re back to the beginning, the point where I started this story. It does continue.

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #23

Posted on June 20, 2013 by jaime

Svitlana came, seconds after I’d given that command. Eventually she stirred and looked up, and found me looking at her. I couldn’t stop myself looking at her. She reached up and stroked my arm. “”I came because you told me to. You told me to come and I did as I was told.” She shook her head. “Fuck, that’s weird. That is really weird, Jaime.”

Actually it wasn’t strange at all. By the time I’d told her to come she was going to come. She’d have had real trouble disobeying that order. But I said, “You’re just naturally obedient. You like to do as you’re told. You didn’t know that. And now you do.”

“Hmmm.” She sounded sceptical. Sensible woman.

“Yes, you are. You’re going to obey me when I tell you to get over my knee. Because I’m going to spank you.”

“You think I’ve been bad? And you seriously think I’m going to let you punish me, if you think I’m bad?”

Of course, she’d held still while I smacked her inner thigh, and I’d claimed that was a punishment. But that was an orgasm ago, so perhaps it didn’t count. She didn’t think of herself as someone who let people punish her.

So I said, truthfully, “No, I just think you’ve got a glorious ass.”

“Huh.” She scowled at me, then smiled. “Well, in that case, I suppose. I’ll let you smack my glorious ass. Since it’s glorious. If you’ll give me a knee to get over.”

She slid over me, and I worked my way across the bed, pulling her with me, so I could rest my back against the wall. And Svitlana perched, bottom up on my thighs.

I patted her upper thighs. “Yeah, glorious. Best ass ever. And now I want it warm and pink. Or maybe red.”

“Hey! What do you mean, red?”

I smacked her.

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #22

Posted on June 19, 2013 by jaime

Reader, I looked Svitlana in her eyes, and held that gaze while I brought my hand down, hard, on her inner thigh. She kept herself still, and though she gasped when my hand landed, and frowned and sucked at her lower lip, she did not move.

We watched each other’s faces while she experienced the sharp impact and then the after-warmth of having been deliberately smacked, and I enjoyed the memory of the cool firmness of her left thigh as my hand had landed. I held that memory in my hand.

She still stared at me, a little afraid, not of the potential pain of anything I might do, but of the strangeness of her own response to being out of her own control and under mine. I smiled at last, and Svitlana gasped again, relieved. I said, “good girl.”

She still had her thighs open as wide as she could present herself, and I touched her cunt, at the lowest edge of her lips, and stroked upwards. She was wet. My fingers swam in aroused Svitlana. She shivered slightly, wanting more, and I stroked her again.

Svitlana let her head fall back onto the pillow, and gave up her body to my stroking fingers, . After a while, she put her heels back on the bed and lifted herself, making her cunt and her other entrance available to me. In response I sped up a little, and Svitlana’s face took on that tenseness that said she was about to come. I let my finger slip all the way into her, and said, “nearly”.

Svitlana only moaned. She’d closed her eyes. She was only a second away.

With my other hand I smacked her right thigh. Not lightly; the sound was like a starter’s pistol, and her thigh rippled under the blow. I could see my hand[print, white against white. In seconds it would be a bright, clear red. Svitlana made a high-pitched noise, like a howl. There was a word in that howl. It was, “Harder!”

I smacked her left thigh again, as hard as I could, then put the hand that had slapped her against her mouth. “Now,” I said, “come.”

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #21

Posted on June 18, 2013 by jaime

Svitlana thought for a moment or two. I’d just told her I was going to punish her for disobedience. She wouldn’t have had any qualm, if I’d simply smacked her thigh. But announcing it in advance, and specifying that it was punishment, that it was for disobedience, that made it hard to take.

This was not going to be a night she could discuss with Mayne and Barbs, the dyke couple who were looking after her, let alone with Kerry, the angrier dyke who’d told her I was a bad man who spanked women. Kerry had done me a favour, though that was another thing that would never be said. Not to Kerry, anyway.

It’s the waiting that makes it hot.

She said, with utmost wariness, “Okay. If I were going to let you punish me for closing my thighs, what would you do?”

I smiled. “No. Ask me how I’m going to punish you.”

“Punish me for what?”

“Ask me, nicely, to punish you for closing your thighs when I told you to open them.”

“You keep shifting the ground!”

“Yes. So you should ask me, very sweetly, to smack your inner thighs, to punish you for closing your thighs when I told you to open them.”

We looked at each other. I was grinning like a fox. We held each other’s gaze for a few seconds, and Svitlana burst out laughing. When she recovered she said, “All right. Would you please, pretty please, smack me on my inner thigh – is that right?”

“Just do as you’re told.” That was a growl.

“On my inner thighs, to punish me for closing my thighs when you told me to open them.”

I kissed her, and we held that for some time, my hand caressing her scalp through a handful of her hair. Eventually she broke away for breath, and I said, “Since you asked so nicely.”

“Hah!”

“Left thigh. Bend your knees, and keep your thighs right open, so I can smack you. And don’t move, or I’ll have to give you double. You know that.”

“Yes.” Svitlana obeyed, lifting and spreading her legs to offer me a delicious white, rounded target. I wanted to kiss her cunt, now most prettily framed, and fuck her. But first there was business.

I raised my hand, hovered over the target, three inches below her cunt.

Svitlana drew in her breath. Her stomach muscles tightened. She looked away, and then, drawn by awful curiosity, gazed back into my eyes. I let her wait.

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #20

Posted on June 13, 2013 by jaime

My cock, not quite comfortable, rested hard against her left thigh. She reached down and held it, cradling it and cooing, like a girl with a pet bird. Like Lesbia and her sparrow, I thought at the time, wanker that I am. She said, “Oooh, that was so good. That was … You are going to fuck me again, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you’ll probably get fucked again.”

Svitlana nodded. “I should think so.”

“Mmm. But first, you remember? Remember when I told you to get your thighs gynecologically open…”

“Ohhh.” She remembered. She’d disobeyed me. It had worried her for a second or two, then she’d decided that I’d forgotten.

“And you closed your legs a little, instead. You knew you were disobeying me. You thought I was going to punish you for that.”

“Ohhhh.” She was trying to sound amused. I think she was a little afraid. Not terrified, but nervous.

“Well, you were right.”

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #19

Posted on June 12, 2013 by jaime

Svitlana seemed to be spent. But in that strange way that you sometimes know things that you haven’t been told, or shown, I knew that she needed more, and this time she didn’t want to be in control of her body. My fingers, still inside her, pushed up against the upper wall of her cunt. Svitlana grunted, a sleeping ship pushed by a tug. I pressed my thumb against her lips and bore down, finding her clit and hurting her. Svitlana opened her eyes and sighed. With my fingers pushing up against the spongy upper wall, and my thumb pushing down I could squeeze her cunt, and I did so, in a long, slow rhythm. Svitlana stretched, pressed her cunt hard against my hand and stayed with me. The good ship Svitlana was under way. Slowly.

I said, “Greedy girl.” I meant I was happy with her. She caught my eyes for a second, but said nothing. She closed her eyes to focus on something deep inside her.There was an extra reserve of lust in her, and she was connecting with it. She began to work with more urgency.

A few minutes later she was sweating with effort, every muscle in her body tight and relentlessly moving. My hand hurt, and I was getting cramp, but I stayed with her, pushing her hard.

Svitlana’s third scream was the loudest, and it shrilled the room until it died away in a wail of something like pain or despair, though it was neither of those things. She opened her eyes and looked at me in something like terror. I stroked her from inside one more time, fondly, and let her be still.

Svitlana subsided, lying back. Smugly half-smiling, she pulled me down onto her breasts and stroked my shoulders and the back of my head. She was supremely happy. So was I, though I was massaging the cramps pout of my right hand.

I kissed her breast and then bit her lightly when she tried to get her nipple further into my mouth. I suckled her, taking some more of her generous breast into my mouth. Svitlana pursed her lips, fearing that I was going to bite her harder. I bit her harder.

Her breath hissed, indrawn at the hurt, then she relaxed and moaned when I bit harder, grazing the nipple between my teeth.

I repeated with the other nipple, and Svitlana moved her hips, under me. She was ready to be fucked again.

But it was time to make her skin sing to her. I wanted her skin to burn like fire. I wanted her red, and I wanted to hear her whimper. With the right kind of pain, an awakening hurt. I considered whether to use my belt, or just my hand.

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #18

Posted on June 11, 2013 by jaime

Svitlana pressed her cunt against my hand, her pelvis weaving as if she was being fucked hard by something invisible. She was trying to get my fingers inside her lips, into that honeyed world just a centimetre away. I said, “Say please again.”

“Please, please, please, god, please. Please.”

I had a thought. “Say please, sir.”

Half an hour ago she’d have been angry at that suggestion. But now she had more things to think about. She didn’t hesitate, “Sir, please, please, please sir.”

“Good.” I slipped two fingers, then three, into that slippery-wet, spongy-soft world. She stopped, still for nearly five seconds, smiling like a saint at the point of martyrdom, in a Renaissance painting. She moaned with relief so intense it seemed to hurt. I don’t think she knew, at that moment, that I weas there, except for my hand.

Orgasm scream represented as sound wave.

All of her consciousness was in her body. She wasn’t thinking or calculating or remembering. She was experiencing the sensations from her cunt, maybe also her buttocks pressed against the sheet. She’d closed her eyes, and if I said something she wouldn’t hear it. Her cunt pressed damply, frantically against my hand, pushing against me harder and faster, her eyes shut and her mouth open. She made incoherent groaning and gurgling noises. I let her fuck my hand, pressing back at her. Until she screamed.

Her body arced so that only her feet and shoulders touched the bed. Her cunt tightened on my fingers, and she gulped for air like a red-faced baby. Then she screamed again. She was beautiful. I saw the bones in her face when she came. She fell back, gasping.

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #17

Posted on June 10, 2013 by jaime

I relaxed my grip on Svitlana’s cunt, then squeezed again. She repeated the movement more spectacularly. She bent her knees so she could splay her thighs as wide as she could, offering up her cunt and the tight little hole below. She was a big white cat, absolutely not interested in most things, and wanting to be fucked.

When she opened her eyes again I smiled at her. “Would you like my fingers back, Svitlana? Inside you?”

Her first attempt to speak was just a croak. Then she said, “Please. Yes. Please.”

“Then pay attention, and I might put them back later.”

She said, “ohhhh.” It was a protest. She wasn’t being given what she wanted. It was a small lesson.

“So it’s like we’re going on a roller coaster. Once you’re on, it takes you for a ride and you don’t get to steer. There’s one difference. You get to have your own personal brake. You can tell me to go slow, or back off, or stop completely. So, if I’m doing something that makes you uncomfortable, maybe it hurts in a non-sexy way or it’s got bad associations for you, but you’re still basically happy and you don’t want to stop, just say ‘yellow’. When you say ‘yellow’, I back off what I’m doing and move on to something else. Got that? ‘Yellow.'”

“Yellow. Mellow.”

“And if the whole thing is horrible and you’re having a bad time and you want it to stop, just say ‘Red’. You say ‘Red,’ I stop. No ifs or maybes. I just stop. It’s fine. You’re allowed to say Yellow, and you’re allowed to say Red. Okay?”

“Red stops you dead.”

“Ummm. Yeah, okay. And it doesn’t matter if you forget the exact words. Just let me know if you’re not having a good time. Okay?”

“I know about safe words. I’ve just never needed one before.” She frowned, remembering something. “Been given one, anyway.”

I let that pass, though I’d ask her about it later. “Good. Now, I told you to listen to me, and you did. So you get a reward.” I relaxed my grip on her labia, and stroked down the sensitive groove where her lips met. There was leakage. Svitlana was very wet.

One swallow doesn’t make a spring #16

Posted on June 9, 2013 by jaime

I leaned forward to kiss Svitlana again, using the touching of tongues as an excuse to take my fingers from her mouth. I put my rescued hand high on her left thigh, just before that little indentation at the top of her thighs.

Revision: This is the inter-gracile sub-pudendal fossa.

Revision: Light shining through that gap at the top of the thighs, the inter-gracile sub-pudendal fossa. Which we at this blog are fond of.

This gap, as you know, is the inter-gracile sub-pudendal fossa.

Resting my hand just below her inter-gracile sub-pudendal fossa meant that my thumb was about four centimetres from her cunt. Svitlana expected good, syrupy stroking to come, and she stretched under me. Luxuriously. She wiggled her bottom on the sheets, finding herself a comfortable position, legs relaxed and open, and put her hand on the back of my neck.

I said, “You happy?”

“Mm hmm.” It wasn’t so much the sound as the smile. She was the cat about to start on the cream.

“Good. I just have to tell you a couple of things. You have to listen.”

Svitlana pulled a mock-serious face. She wasn’t taking me seriously any more. That didn’t matter; she would

“Ok, you want me to show you what ‘make me’ means. That’s good, because that’s going to be fucking hot. The first thing you need to know is that you don’t choose what happens any more. It’s like a roller coaster ride. You choose to get on it, but once you’re on you don’t get to pick whether you splash into the water or go round the loop. It just happens to you, ready or not. That’s what’s makes it exciting. Yes?”

She nodded, still pulling her frowning clown face. So I moved my hand those few centimetres upwards and took her labia between my thumb and forefinger. I squeezed slowly, watching her eyes as my grip tightened and her sensation changed from pure pleasure to a mix of pleasure and pain.

She gasped suddenly, when the grip was almost as hard as I could make it, and she arched her back and let her head fall back, so that she offered her breasts and throat to the man who hurt her.