Suzi the teen slut Part1
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Mr. Callahan's Slut, Part 4 free porn video
The whirring of the motor is comforting. Finally, after a day that seemed to go on forever, I’m on my way to meet my wonderful man, my Sir, Mr. Callahan. For the first time we have a real date, in a restaurant. All our previous interactions have taken place in the office. Not that I would ever complain. I’m a lucky, lucky girl to have gained the notice of such a perfect specimen of a man.
As for the pleasure he’s given me… hmm, every time I think about it… I bite my lip to stifle the moan that threatens to slip out. I giggle softly. I don’t want the cab driver knowing what’s on my mind but the slightest vibration of the car transfers to the object currently stretching my back passage. It heightens the awareness of my already sensitized throbbing sex.
It’s been days since my last release. On the directions of Mr. Callahan, I have not touched myself, have not made myself cum; the arousal has been building to unknown heights. I’m a tinderbox, ready to self-combust.
Today has been excruciating. Mr. Callahan, seemingly by accident, but probably on purpose, often brushed his hand against my arm, on one occasion even my hip. Also, he’s stood just a bit closer than usual when we’ve been going through documents. In my super sensitive state, I noticed these things and became more and more flustered as the day crept along. It was almost a relief when he left early for a meeting, while I stayed behind to prepare a file on a new client.
The cab runs over a pothole, and I’m again reminded about the object in my ass. As if I needed a reminder! I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it since it was introduced to my body, or what will replace it when Mr. Callahan removes it.
My thoughts wander back to yesterday afternoon when Mr. Callahan, out of the blue, told me it was time for my small butt-plug to be exchanged for one of a bigger size. One minute we were discussing possible mergers, the next I was bent over his desk, skirt raised, panties pulled down to my ankles.
He told me to spread my ass-cheeks and hold that position for his perusal.
“Hmm, yes.” The deepening of his voice tone was an indication that he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be.
“Have you been wearing it at all times, as instructed?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Hmm, good girl.”
I smiled at his praise. It made me so happy that he was pleased with me.
Then, I felt his hand at the small of my back, his thumb rubbing small circles, as he grabbed the plug with the other, slowly pulling it out. The sensation was exquisite, so different from the times I’d needed to remove it myself.
“Ahh,” I moaned.
He put the toy on a piece of paper and prepared the bigger plug, covering it with a generous amount of lubrication. Again his hand soothingly rubbed my lower back.
“Now relax. This one is considerably bigger, closer to size of my cock.”
At the word cock, my pussy visibly clenched, and Mr. Callahan chuckled. “What a horny little slut you are; you really long for me to take your ass.”
“Yes Sir. I am Sir.”
I flinched when I felt the cold lube touch my sphincter.
“Shh, you’re doing fine.”
His encouragement helped me to relax again, and he gently pressed the plug against my rosebud. Remembering the instructions from last time, I pushed backwards, opening myself up as much as possible. It was still a stretch, the much bigger plug needed some force to enter. But then my tight muscle gave way, and I felt it filling me.
“Ahh, Sir, gaaah,” I panted through the sensation of it stretching me like nothing before. It ached but, at the same time, I liked it. In fact, I liked it a lot, feeling almost overwhelmed by the sensation of having something that big in my rear passage.
He let me regain my equilibrium before lightly nudging it. My shallow gasps awarded me another chuckle.
“Hmm yes, perfect.”
He bent over me, and I felt his erection against my rump as he whispered in my ear. “Feel that stretching you, preparing you to take my cock.” He emphasized the word cock, elongating it, as if he knew that would make me shiver in anticipation.
“Yes Miss Steel, that’s right. Next time I’ll replace this…” his finger nudged the plug again, making me quiver, “with my cock.”
My answering moan left no illusion to how incredibly arousing I found that thought.
Then he stood, telling me I could let go of my ass-cheeks before giving my rump one hard slap, and that was it. One single smarting smack on my ass and then nothing. Just the instruction to pull up my panties, and get back to work, not even requesting a blowjob, like the one I’d so enjoyed giving him when the smaller butt-plug had been put into place.
When I hesitated, he just looked at me with raised eyebrows and calmly said, “That’ll be all, Miss Steel.”
Disappointed, I walked to the door to leave his office but he called out, almost as an after thought, “And Miss Steel, you are having dinner with me tomorrow night at the Duke. Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.”
I’m jolted back to the present, hearing the driver tell me we have reached my destination. I pay him and head into the Duke, for what I believe might be a life-changing experience.
A hostess shows me to a private dining room Mr. Callahan has booked. Seeing him, I halt, catching my breath. I’m suddenly nervous, not knowing how to behave, now that we’re out of the office. He’s striking in his pinstripe suit, dark hair slicked back, the distinguishing grey at his temples. His sharp grey eyes light up as he looks at me. I’m glad I dressed up for the evening, a black form-fitting cocktail dress hugging every curve. It gives my confidence an extra boost watching his eyes looking me up and down, admiring me.
Mr. Callahan rises from his seat. “Miss Steel, you are absolutely beautiful tonight.”
He holds my hand, kisses my palm. A bolt of electricity runs through me at the light touch.
“Thank you, Sir.”
I exhale. I'm hypnotized by his nearness, drawn to him by his magnetism, his incredible charisma.
With a hand at the small of my back he leads me to a chair, pulling it out for me. He kisses my neck softly before returning to his seat facing mine. His tiny, gentle touches so far have lit my fire and my pussy is salivating for him, a dull aching throb beginning to build. I squirm in my seat, trying to rub some of that ache away.
Mr. Callahan’s smirk shows me that the movement did not go unnoticed. Taking a deep breath, I refocus. If he can pretend to be unaffected so can I.
I look around the small dining room. The walls are painted in a deep rosewood, the floor is covered by a thick charcoal carpet, sconces with lit candles give an ambient light. The table is covered with a linen cloth and set with fine china. It’s really very romantic, in a dark and sensuous way.
A waiter arrives and we order. Through dinner, we talk quietly, the words flowing easily. I realize I’m comfortable in this setting with him, enjoying the meal and his company. Neither of us mention the heated tension building between us, but it’s there, almost a tangible presence in the room. The way Mr. Callahan steers the conversation away from anything alluding to our erotic encounters, has my blood boiling hotter than if he had been crudely flirting with me.
This planned seduction, because that is what it is, a seduction by a master seducer, has me tense with anticipation and, simultaneously, tranquil. I feel safe and yet, it’s like feeling safe with a predator lulling me to let down my guard before the beast strikes.
He seems so sure of himself, so confident, knowing he has me exactly where he wants. I like him this way, how he steers me in his chosen direction, but I’m still baffled by his quiet certainty.
“Sir, if I already had plans for this evening, what would you have done?”
“I would have told you to cancel them.”
The way he says it, as if it’s the natural order of things, makes me smile. I know from working for him for years that, when he has his sights set on a particular goal, he does not back down. And now his sights are set on me. I like that, I like it a lot.
When we’ve been served dessert, a mouthwatering rich chocolate cake, he mentions the butt-plug for the first time, instantly changing the topic and tone of our conversation.
"You are wearing your new butt-plug." It’s not a question, more a statement.
However, I still choose to answer him. "Yes Sir."
"Good."
He hasn’t looked up from his plate, seemingly focused on his cake. He picks up a piece with his fork, puts it in his mouth, savoring the taste before continuing, “Have you touched yourself? Made yourself cum?"
“No Sir. You told me not to.”
At this he looks up smiling. I can see that he is happy with me, with my compliance. Seeing his pleased expression fills me with a calm contented joy, a jubilant feeling making me want to please him further. However, his next request has me on edge.
“Take off your panties.”
“Here? No, I cant. What if someone comes?”
He doesn’t answer, just looks at me with one raised eyebrow. His gaze is forbidding, stern. I know that look: it’s not to be argued with. I sigh in resignation.
Slowly, I raise the hem of my skirt so that I can reach the edge of my lacy underwear. I put my fingers under the hem, raise my bottom slightly and slide the panties down my legs, looking at Mr. Callahan all the time. I put them in the palm of his outstretched hand.
He lifts them to his nose, inhaling deeply before putting them in a pocket of his suit jacket. The act has me squirming in my seat.
"Good girl. How are you feeling?”
“Hot and aching for you, Sir.” My voice is breathy.
“You may touch now, but not cum.”
“Here?”
“Yes. In fact, I would demand it of you, but I don’t think I need to.” He tilts his head to one side, regarding me, while a small but wicked grin plays across his lips. “You secretly want it, want to touch your soft wet petals, right here, knowing the effect it will have on me. How I will get hard for you.”
At that revelation my breath catches. He is right. I’d like that very much. I put my hand between my legs.
“Slowly Miss Steel. Do it with care.”
My fingers trace the inside of my thigh, bit by bit closing the distance to my aching sex. I automatically gasp with sudden pleasure when they reach my mound.
“Softly trace the outside of your labia with your fingers,” Mr. Callahan instructs.
I do as he tells me, even though I’m burning to let them slide through the wetness. I implore him with my eyes, appealing to him to let me go further. But he just sips his wine, taking another bite of chocolate cake before giving me the go ahead.
“Slide your fingers between your wet folds.”
The action has me moaning, closing my eyes.
“Don’t close your eyes Miss Steel. Keep looking at me.” My eyelids snap up at the command in his voice. “Yes, better, I want to see your pleasure.”
So, while my fingers slip and tease through my drenched pussy, I keep looking at him, my gaze locked with his, my mouth slightly open, as my breath becomes shallower with the building pleasure.
His posture is rigid, all his attention centered on me, the cake now forgotten. I see him swallow, lick his parted lips and then notice a movement than can’t be mistaken for anything but what it is: he adjusts himself. He must be hard.
I grip the tablecloth in a fist, biting my lip to stifle a groan. My pleasure is building, heightened by the awareness that I’m affecting him in such a way. I’m so close to the edge, threatening to tip over any second when he speaks a single word with quiet authority.
“Stop.”
I immediately pull my fingers from my pussy.
“Show me how wet you are.”
Timidly, I raise my hand, showing him my sticky fingers. He groans before leaning over the table, grabbing my hand and licking my fingers. He closes his eyes for a short moment, obviously relishing my taste. When he opens them again they are dark stormy wells of carnal lust.
“Come. It's time." His voice is coarser, darker than usual.
“Time for what?”
The only answer I get is a devilish grin. My stomach flips as he confirms my suspicion; it’s time for that, for him to claim new territory, to take what no other man has taken. I’m suddenly tense, scared and yet eager.
Mr. Callahan stalks around the table and pulls me to my feet, staring down on me with that voracious gaze. He grasps my hand and leads me from the dining room. He’s all but pulling me through the restaurant, exiting through a different door than the one I’d entered.
“Shouldn’t we stay and pay?” I ask. I’m flustered by his apparent urgency. He’s gone from aloof teasing to ferocious urgency in nano-seconds. And I’m just trying to keep up with him.
“What?” He sounds impatient, irritated even, at my question.
“We left the restaurant without paying.”
“Of course not, all cost will be charged to the room.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, making me feel stupid for not understanding the simplest facts.
“What room?” Now I’m irritated as well.
Something in my tone must have jolted him out of whatever mindset he was locked in, because he stops to look at me, really look at me. Then his features soften.
“I’m sorry, Miss Steel. I forgot my manners for a minute,” he says tenderly, stroking my cheek. “You are such gift to be treasured and I treat you like a harlot at a beer bash.”
I lean into his palm, delighted by his gentle touch and can’t help giggling at his words.
“Oh, my beautiful Miss Steel. If you knew the effect you had on me, you would praise me for my endurance.”
He pulls me into his arms. I feel his erection poking my stomach. It does funny things to me, makes me forget that we’re in public, and I grind my hips against him.
“I guess I’m not the only one affected,” he chuckles. Embarrassed by my behavior, I blush, try to pull away from him, but he holds me fast, whispering in my ear. “I am dying to fuck you, burning not only to once again claim that gorgeous cunt of yours, but also that tight virgin ass.”
A shiver runs through me. My drenched pussy clenches, and I feel the gush of added wetness coating the insides of my thighs. In my ass, the butt-plug feels like a welcome intrusion, making my rear passage throb in anticipation of the cock soon to replace it.
Contrary to his coarse language, he kisses my forehead with profound gentleness, before letting go of me. I now notice that we are in a hotel lobby and, all at once, his previous comment about a room makes perfect sense. I blush again at my stupidity.
Where was I thinking he would fuck me? At the restaurant restroom? In the parking garage?
Mr. Callahan leads me through the delicately furnished lobby towards an elevator. We’re not the only people entering when the doors slide open. At this hour, the hotel seems busy. After pressing the button for the twelfth floor, Mr. Callahan positions us in the back, the others filing in to stand in front of us.
We seem to stop at every floor, letting someone on or off. It’s slow going.
Halfway up, Mr. Callahan pulls me closer to him, as if creating more space for a group of young women. But his hand moves to the base of my spine, slowly sliding further down, over the curves of my ass, stopping level with the butt-plug. I gasp as his fingers lightly touch it through the fabric of my dress, sending small vibrations traveling along the toy to deep within me.
I pant and bite my lip to prevent from moaning out loud. I lean in to him, the back of my head resting on his shoulder, my legs suddenly struggling to keep me upright.
His mouth at my ear, he whispers salacious promises of what’s to come. “First I’m going to undress you, to see you in your naked glory.” His free hand is brushing over my arm, making goose bumps appear. “Then I’m going to fuck…” his erection presses into my rump, “your dripping wet cunt. Ah yes, I can smell your arousal from here you little whore, a slut so hungry for this.”
Again he thrusts against me, making very clear what he is referring to.
My insides tremble at his words; I’m almost at breaking point.
“I’m going to give you so much pleasure that you will loose that brilliant mind of yours, becoming only the wanton creature I know resides inside you. I’m not going to let you cum until you are begging me to fuck…” slowly he increases the pressure on the plug, ”your ass.” The last word is said with a hissing deep groan, as if he can hardly contain himself anymore than I can.
A moan slips out from deep within me. Fortunately, at that exact moment, the elevator door dings and slides open, masking my groan.
“We’re here,” he announces.
“Huh?” is my less than intelligent response.
“At our floor, Miss Steel,” he smirks knowingly, escorting me out of the elevator.
We’re in a short corridor with only a few doors. The chosen color scheme of blue and beige gives a calm somber ambiance, soft lighting completing the effect.
Once more I feel hesitant, unsure of myself, as I follow this prominent man to the door furthest from the elevator. As if sensing my discomfort, Mr. Callahan takes my hand and squeezes it reassuringly, helping me regain my equilibrium.
At the door, he pauses, facing me.
“When we enter here, I will worship you like no man has done before me. I will take you and pay homage to your womanhood. It will be intense and carnal; I can promise you’ll experience something that you’ve never experienced before.”
During his short monologue, I’ve held my breath and now I let it out slowly and shakily. He has me completely spellbound; I’m enthralled.
“Are you ready, Miss Steel?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
A weak, tremulous, “Yes,” is all I manage.
“Yes what?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Good girl,” he smiles, sliding a keycard into the lock, he ushers me through the open door into another world, where different rules apply.
The door closes behind us. I don’t even notice the room’s decor or furnishings. All my senses are focused on the man behind me, the tense anticipation between us. I can feel him closing in on me, slowly, one quiet step at a time, lessening the distance between our bodies. He stops right behind me, close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his body. I’m acutely aware of him, waiting for his first touch.
Still, when it comes, I jump. A hand on my shoulder, moving slowly up the back of my neck, collecting my hair in a fist. A gentle pull to lean my head to the side, exposing my neck to soft kisses, small pecks sending shivers down my spine. I moan when his free hand travels up my thigh, caressing hip and waist, circling a breast, gently gripping it, the thumb rubbing at my nipple through the fabric.
His mouth at my neck is driving me wild, nibbling, kissing, teasing. I press my body into him, rubbing my rump against his erection, wanting to feel more, desperate for some kind of release of this tension that has been building for days. I’m awarded by a tug on my hair, making me wince.
“Not yet!” he hisses.
“But Sir, I need, I want you,” I whine.
“My beautiful, horny slut, so desperate for it. Be patient, you will have your fill soon enough. Now be still and let me tend to you.”
“Yes Sir,” I whisper, setting myself up to take all he dispenses, wanting to make him proud of me.
“There you go,” he murmurs while continuing his slow teasing administration at my neck. “Now let me see how wet you are for me.”
His hand glides from my breast, over my stomach, and gathers the fabric of my skirt, raising the hem. I know what he’ll find. I’m soaking, not only my sex dripping wet with my juices, but my thighs sticky as well.
He gently nudges my feet apart with his own, his hand going down, sliding between my legs. My head falls back and a groan passes my lips when his fingers enter my swollen pussy.
“Fuck.” Mr. Callahan’s voice is a volcanic rumble.
I shudder at his intimate touch. I’m struggling not to do anything but just accept it. My breath is short and shallow. I can tell by Mr. Callahan’s heavy breathing that he’s not unaffected either.
The hissed, “God, Miss Steel,” as he buries his face in my hair, inhaling me, indicates the thin line he’s walking right now.
I expand my chest in elation, knowing that he is as affected by me, as I am by him.
Slowly his fingers start moving, teasing, slipping, penetrating me. He finger-fucks me with the precision of a master pianist. My knees tremble, as I quickly approach my peak. My insides tighten, everything focused, and then he stops, pulling out his fingers just before I topple over the edge.
“Noo,” I protest.
“My naughty, hungry little whore. You will not be allowed to cum yet.”
He caresses my neck with his sticky digits, leaving a trail of my fluid. His tongue isn’t far behind, licking my skin clean.
“Divine, Miss Steel. You taste absolutely divine.”
He turns me around to face him, his gaze locked with mine as he forces his fingers into my mouth, making me suck them. His hungry kiss follows. His lips crush down on mine, he is devouring my mouth, his hands on my waist, pulling me close.
His fingers find my zipper and my dress falls to the floor, exposing my naked form. I’m standing in only stockings, garter belt and high heels.
Mr. Callahan’s groan at the view, precedes greedy hands exploring my skin. Like gluttonous leaches, his fingers travel across the expanse of my flesh, stroking, grabbing, groping. I feel he’s close to losing control, all that primal ferociousness just beneath the surface.
I want to touch him too, feel his skin under my fingertips. But I’m unsure of the rules of this game, what I’m supposed to do. Hesitantly, I raise my trembling hands to his collar, sliding them beneath his suit jacket, but stop before removing it.
“Sir?” My query is obvious and he nods.
I make quick work of the jacket, sliding it to the floor, where it’s soon joined by his tie, vest and dress shirt. He helps me with the cuff links that my fumbling fingers have difficulty with.
His chest is smooth, taut muscle. I let my fingers trace a minuscule scar above the right nipple, one that I’ve not noticed before. Bending down, I lick along it, before closing my mouth around his nipple, biting down.
He growls, and suddenly my head is yanked back, my hair in one of his fists, the other hand holding my jaw. He looks down at me with burning eyes. His nostrils are flaring. I sense how close his control is to snapping; I discover I like it. I am curious to know what kind of beast lurks beneath that controlled surface. So far I’ve only seen glimpses, but I’m sure there is an infinite depth to his ferocity. It awakens something in me, connects with something previously slumbering, and I want more of it.
“Naughty little minx, aren’t you?” he growls.
And, surprisingly, a deep chuckle rises up my throat. A sound like no other I have ever made in my life. I feel another me is rising to the surface, looking through my eyes at him.
He must have seen the change, because he hisses, “That does it!” Grabbing me, he pulls me hard, dragging me after him further into the room, that seems to be more of a suite.
His harsh handling only makes me more wanton, a carnal being, enjoying his rough hands. When he throws me down on a soft bed, I arch, preening like a cat in heat.
“Fuck,” Mr. Callahan hisses between clenched teeth. He unbuckles his belt and moves to position himself above me.
I yank at his fly, trying to hurry him on, but he grabs my hands, pushing them above my head.
Once again that chuckle is my only answer. I don’t recognize myself, but right now I don’t care. I just want him. Now! I have waited for days, and I’m beyond ready.
“Fuck, Miss Steel. You are going to make me loose control.”
“Maybe I want you to loose control?”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
We are locked in that position for what seems to be eternity, both breathing heavily, staring at each other. What is he waiting for?
“Sir?” My voice is deep and husky. My hips arch to grind my hotness against his still clothed erection, inviting him to play with me, to use me.
Something in him changes, but I can see he is still in a modicum of control, and I accept that is how it’s going to be for now. Maybe he will let himself be fully feral with me another time. I’m just happy the stalemate is over, and we are now moving on.
He removes his belt and wraps it around my wrists. I relish the feel of the leather biting into my skin. Now he is taking position over me, showing me that he’s in charge.
Mr. Callahan gets up from the bed to remove the rest of his garments while looking down on me, feasting on me with his eyes. I look back, taking in his glorious naked form. A hand is around his hard cock, slowly stroking, making me moan and lick my lips.
“You little horny slut,” he chuckles. “You want this? You want my cock in you?”
“Yes,” I whine.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, Sir. Please Sir.”
He moves and he’s on top of me but not giving me what I want. Leaning on his elbows, he holds himself up. I try to reach for him with my bound hands, try to get my body closer to his, but in vain. He is showing me that this is on his terms, on his time schedule, regaining a bit more of his control in the process.
“You want me to fuck you pet? Want to be my little slut?”
His erection slowly glides through my wetness when he speaks.
“Please Sir, I need that.”
I’m almost crying in sexual frustration.
“Tell me what you want pet! I want you to hear you say it.” He removes his pelvis, depriving me of even the feel of his manhood against me.
“I want you to fuck me, Sir. I want your cock in my aching cunt, Sir.”
“There, there. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he croons.
With one quick hard thrust he enters me fully, filling me, finally gloriously stretching me. The fast action almost makes me cum, the walls of my sex squeezing his dick, spasming around him. But, instead of moving, he pauses, keeping still, letting me adjust to him. I try to move my hips to get the friction I need to orgasm, but a firm grip holds me in place.
My frustrated groan is only met with another chuckle. Not until my trembling stops and I relax again does he start to move. Slow, deliciously long strokes hold me right on the edge. It feels so good, his hard flesh inside my wet softness. With the butt-plug in my rear passage it’s quite different. It feels more intense, fuller than I’ve experienced before.
His hands roam my body with deliberation, touching me, stroking me. He has me right where he wants me, in his expert control. Then he suddenly quickens the pace and I think that now, yes… I can almost feel it, I’m heading for it and…
“Nooo,” I scream when he pulls out just the moment before my climax.
“Not yet,” he whispers while nibbling my neck, my body trembling under his.
“Stop teasing me,” I hiss.
“Why would I do that? It’s so much fun teasing you?” His eyes twinkle with mirth.
Oh lord, he’s beautiful. He totally steals my breath away.
“Sir,” I beg. “I need…”
“I know my beautiful slut. I know. Patience, little one. Soon enough. I’ll tell you when.”
“Promise, Sir.”
“I promise,” he says, smiling and kissing my nose before flipping me over to leave my ass in the air, my head pressed down in the mattress.
This time he penetrates me slowly, but ends with one hard push. His fingers play with the plug making it move in time with his grinding hips. It does not take long for me to build towards the peak again. His slow deliberate strokes, combined with the moving butt-plug, have my body tense in anticipation. But, just like the first time, he pulls out seconds before I topple over the edge.
“Aargh,” I howl my frustration into the bed.
I’m flipped onto my back again, panting and shaking beneath him. A tear of frustration runs down my cheek and he rubs it away with his thumb.
“My sweet, beautiful whore, so in need of cumming.” The teasing is gone from his voice, only adoration and care is left. “You are ready, Sweetness.”
“Ready?” I echo, stupidly.
He raises one eyebrow, smirking at me.
“Oh! That!”
“Yes, that. Spread your legs, nice and wide. Show me that beautiful cunt and asshole.”
I comply and Mr. Callahan adjusts my position till he’s satisfied. “Hold it right there.”
He moves to the edge of the bed, taking something from the pocket of his trousers. It’s a small tube of lube that he uses to coat his throbbing cock. My ass is clenching around the plug. Yes, he is right. I’m ready. All fear is gone. I’m in such a heightened state of arousal right now that only a small nervous thrill remains. I want this, want him to claim me like no other before him, to make that territory completely his.
When his fingers grab the plug to remove it, I groan at the sensation. I feel strangely empty before he quickly replaces it with his lubed fingers, making my entrance slippery. I close my eyes, enjoying the new penetration. For a short time his fingers fuck me but then they exit as well. I moan in protest.
Mr. Callahan shifts and I feel his breath near my ear. “What a wanton little fuck-toy you are,” he whispers. “Don’t worry whore, you will soon have something better.”
Feeling his hard slippery cock nudging my back entrance I push against him, so hungry for the sensation.
“Careful pet, you’ll hurt yourself. Just keep your position and let me do this.”
His crooning voice soothes me, and I let him take the lead. He’s on his knees, legs spread wide, his proud manhood glistening. He pulls me closer to him so I rest on his thighs, his erection poking my rosebud.
The penetration is slow, almost excruciatingly so. Mr. Callahan has prepared me well, and he slides in quite easily. Even if there is some initial stretching pain I adjust quickly to his girth. Still, the sensation is intense, he is bigger than the plug, and there is a dull ache accompanied by the pleasure of being filled like this.
“Hmm, Sir,” I moan. “That feels so good.”
“So fucking tight,” he groans, stopping when his groin hits my pelvis, not moving further. I’m pinned to his cock, unable to move in this position with my hands still bound.
“Please Sir,” I beg, moving my hips the little I can to indicate what I long for.
“Wait Miss Steel. I’m about to lose it here.”
“I don’t care.” I exhale. “I need you to fuck me! Now, Sir,” I pant.
And with a groan he gives in, finally losing control. He growls and grabs my hips, pounding me hard and fast. It hurts, but it’s also blissful ecstasy, making me writhe and moan.
He releases a stream a profanities, calling me not only his whore, along with other names, but tells me how he now owns my fuck-holes, how I’m all his to use and abuse at his will. I don’t protest. I want to be his, to be owned by him, used by him. I need it, almost as much as I need to breathe.
I’m filled with an incredible elation at being claimed as his in this way. As if he is not only claiming my body, but my soul as well.
And then it happens; finally he lets me build beyond the point of no return. I reach my peak, and explode, violently thrashing, a roar like no other tearing from my throat. My body is on fire, and my ass clamps down on his driving cock. It does not stop him - not at all - only makes him more savage, grabbing my thighs harder as he pummels my asshole.
“More, you fucking slut. Give me more!” he roars. “Cum for me again.”
And I do, either from his words or his brutal treatment of my ass. Shaking, trembling, moaning, over and over I climax, until I’m completely wrung out.
“No more, I can’t,” I protest when he demands me to cum once more.
He leans down, putting his weight on mine, his body slick with sweat, growling in my ear, “Just one more Miss Steel. For me… cum with me.”
His voice is strained. I can hear that he is now close to his own climax. The way he says it, as if it’s his dying wish, makes all the difference. I let myself drown in the sensation of his body on top of mine, of his fingers digging in to my hips as his pace becomes urgent, erratic.
His groaned mantra of, “Mine, mine, mine,” in my ear is what, eventually, does me in. When his body tenses and his cock twitches in my ass, ejaculating his seed deep within me, marking me, I manage one last orgasm. Not earth shattering or overwhelming, instead a warm breeze blowing through my body.
He holds me tight to him, whispering that one word, “Mine.”
I’m tired, utterly spent and feel so safe and content in his embrace. I drift off to sleep, but awaken as the bed shifts and his warmth disappears. I moan a groggy protest, feeling bereft of his nearness. A soothing hand and kiss on my forehead calms me.
“Hush pet, I’ll be back soon. I’m just going to wash up quickly.”
He returns shortly, smelling of soap and with a warm washcloth that he wipes me with, cleaning me.
“Hmm, that’s nice.”
“I’m so proud of you pet. You’ve made me so happy tonight.”
I burrow into his warm chest. In his arms I am safe. I am his. And he is mine.
“Mine,” I whisper, drifting off to sleep in his embrace.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: My gratitude to JWren for time spent checking my English and editing.
As for the pleasure he’s given me… hmm, every time I think about it… I bite my lip to stifle the moan that threatens to slip out. I giggle softly. I don’t want the cab driver knowing what’s on my mind but the slightest vibration of the car transfers to the object currently stretching my back passage. It heightens the awareness of my already sensitized throbbing sex.
It’s been days since my last release. On the directions of Mr. Callahan, I have not touched myself, have not made myself cum; the arousal has been building to unknown heights. I’m a tinderbox, ready to self-combust.
Today has been excruciating. Mr. Callahan, seemingly by accident, but probably on purpose, often brushed his hand against my arm, on one occasion even my hip. Also, he’s stood just a bit closer than usual when we’ve been going through documents. In my super sensitive state, I noticed these things and became more and more flustered as the day crept along. It was almost a relief when he left early for a meeting, while I stayed behind to prepare a file on a new client.
The cab runs over a pothole, and I’m again reminded about the object in my ass. As if I needed a reminder! I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it since it was introduced to my body, or what will replace it when Mr. Callahan removes it.
My thoughts wander back to yesterday afternoon when Mr. Callahan, out of the blue, told me it was time for my small butt-plug to be exchanged for one of a bigger size. One minute we were discussing possible mergers, the next I was bent over his desk, skirt raised, panties pulled down to my ankles.
He told me to spread my ass-cheeks and hold that position for his perusal.
“Hmm, yes.” The deepening of his voice tone was an indication that he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be.
“Have you been wearing it at all times, as instructed?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Hmm, good girl.”
I smiled at his praise. It made me so happy that he was pleased with me.
Then, I felt his hand at the small of my back, his thumb rubbing small circles, as he grabbed the plug with the other, slowly pulling it out. The sensation was exquisite, so different from the times I’d needed to remove it myself.
“Ahh,” I moaned.
He put the toy on a piece of paper and prepared the bigger plug, covering it with a generous amount of lubrication. Again his hand soothingly rubbed my lower back.
“Now relax. This one is considerably bigger, closer to size of my cock.”
At the word cock, my pussy visibly clenched, and Mr. Callahan chuckled. “What a horny little slut you are; you really long for me to take your ass.”
“Yes Sir. I am Sir.”
I flinched when I felt the cold lube touch my sphincter.
“Shh, you’re doing fine.”
His encouragement helped me to relax again, and he gently pressed the plug against my rosebud. Remembering the instructions from last time, I pushed backwards, opening myself up as much as possible. It was still a stretch, the much bigger plug needed some force to enter. But then my tight muscle gave way, and I felt it filling me.
“Ahh, Sir, gaaah,” I panted through the sensation of it stretching me like nothing before. It ached but, at the same time, I liked it. In fact, I liked it a lot, feeling almost overwhelmed by the sensation of having something that big in my rear passage.
He let me regain my equilibrium before lightly nudging it. My shallow gasps awarded me another chuckle.
“Hmm yes, perfect.”
He bent over me, and I felt his erection against my rump as he whispered in my ear. “Feel that stretching you, preparing you to take my cock.” He emphasized the word cock, elongating it, as if he knew that would make me shiver in anticipation.
“Yes Miss Steel, that’s right. Next time I’ll replace this…” his finger nudged the plug again, making me quiver, “with my cock.”
My answering moan left no illusion to how incredibly arousing I found that thought.
Then he stood, telling me I could let go of my ass-cheeks before giving my rump one hard slap, and that was it. One single smarting smack on my ass and then nothing. Just the instruction to pull up my panties, and get back to work, not even requesting a blowjob, like the one I’d so enjoyed giving him when the smaller butt-plug had been put into place.
When I hesitated, he just looked at me with raised eyebrows and calmly said, “That’ll be all, Miss Steel.”
Disappointed, I walked to the door to leave his office but he called out, almost as an after thought, “And Miss Steel, you are having dinner with me tomorrow night at the Duke. Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.”
I’m jolted back to the present, hearing the driver tell me we have reached my destination. I pay him and head into the Duke, for what I believe might be a life-changing experience.
A hostess shows me to a private dining room Mr. Callahan has booked. Seeing him, I halt, catching my breath. I’m suddenly nervous, not knowing how to behave, now that we’re out of the office. He’s striking in his pinstripe suit, dark hair slicked back, the distinguishing grey at his temples. His sharp grey eyes light up as he looks at me. I’m glad I dressed up for the evening, a black form-fitting cocktail dress hugging every curve. It gives my confidence an extra boost watching his eyes looking me up and down, admiring me.
Mr. Callahan rises from his seat. “Miss Steel, you are absolutely beautiful tonight.”
He holds my hand, kisses my palm. A bolt of electricity runs through me at the light touch.
“Thank you, Sir.”
I exhale. I'm hypnotized by his nearness, drawn to him by his magnetism, his incredible charisma.
With a hand at the small of my back he leads me to a chair, pulling it out for me. He kisses my neck softly before returning to his seat facing mine. His tiny, gentle touches so far have lit my fire and my pussy is salivating for him, a dull aching throb beginning to build. I squirm in my seat, trying to rub some of that ache away.
Mr. Callahan’s smirk shows me that the movement did not go unnoticed. Taking a deep breath, I refocus. If he can pretend to be unaffected so can I.
I look around the small dining room. The walls are painted in a deep rosewood, the floor is covered by a thick charcoal carpet, sconces with lit candles give an ambient light. The table is covered with a linen cloth and set with fine china. It’s really very romantic, in a dark and sensuous way.
A waiter arrives and we order. Through dinner, we talk quietly, the words flowing easily. I realize I’m comfortable in this setting with him, enjoying the meal and his company. Neither of us mention the heated tension building between us, but it’s there, almost a tangible presence in the room. The way Mr. Callahan steers the conversation away from anything alluding to our erotic encounters, has my blood boiling hotter than if he had been crudely flirting with me.
This planned seduction, because that is what it is, a seduction by a master seducer, has me tense with anticipation and, simultaneously, tranquil. I feel safe and yet, it’s like feeling safe with a predator lulling me to let down my guard before the beast strikes.
He seems so sure of himself, so confident, knowing he has me exactly where he wants. I like him this way, how he steers me in his chosen direction, but I’m still baffled by his quiet certainty.
“Sir, if I already had plans for this evening, what would you have done?”
“I would have told you to cancel them.”
The way he says it, as if it’s the natural order of things, makes me smile. I know from working for him for years that, when he has his sights set on a particular goal, he does not back down. And now his sights are set on me. I like that, I like it a lot.
When we’ve been served dessert, a mouthwatering rich chocolate cake, he mentions the butt-plug for the first time, instantly changing the topic and tone of our conversation.
"You are wearing your new butt-plug." It’s not a question, more a statement.
However, I still choose to answer him. "Yes Sir."
"Good."
He hasn’t looked up from his plate, seemingly focused on his cake. He picks up a piece with his fork, puts it in his mouth, savoring the taste before continuing, “Have you touched yourself? Made yourself cum?"
“No Sir. You told me not to.”
At this he looks up smiling. I can see that he is happy with me, with my compliance. Seeing his pleased expression fills me with a calm contented joy, a jubilant feeling making me want to please him further. However, his next request has me on edge.
“Take off your panties.”
“Here? No, I cant. What if someone comes?”
He doesn’t answer, just looks at me with one raised eyebrow. His gaze is forbidding, stern. I know that look: it’s not to be argued with. I sigh in resignation.
Slowly, I raise the hem of my skirt so that I can reach the edge of my lacy underwear. I put my fingers under the hem, raise my bottom slightly and slide the panties down my legs, looking at Mr. Callahan all the time. I put them in the palm of his outstretched hand.
He lifts them to his nose, inhaling deeply before putting them in a pocket of his suit jacket. The act has me squirming in my seat.
"Good girl. How are you feeling?”
“Hot and aching for you, Sir.” My voice is breathy.
“You may touch now, but not cum.”
“Here?”
“Yes. In fact, I would demand it of you, but I don’t think I need to.” He tilts his head to one side, regarding me, while a small but wicked grin plays across his lips. “You secretly want it, want to touch your soft wet petals, right here, knowing the effect it will have on me. How I will get hard for you.”
At that revelation my breath catches. He is right. I’d like that very much. I put my hand between my legs.
“Slowly Miss Steel. Do it with care.”
My fingers trace the inside of my thigh, bit by bit closing the distance to my aching sex. I automatically gasp with sudden pleasure when they reach my mound.
“Softly trace the outside of your labia with your fingers,” Mr. Callahan instructs.
I do as he tells me, even though I’m burning to let them slide through the wetness. I implore him with my eyes, appealing to him to let me go further. But he just sips his wine, taking another bite of chocolate cake before giving me the go ahead.
“Slide your fingers between your wet folds.”
The action has me moaning, closing my eyes.
“Don’t close your eyes Miss Steel. Keep looking at me.” My eyelids snap up at the command in his voice. “Yes, better, I want to see your pleasure.”
So, while my fingers slip and tease through my drenched pussy, I keep looking at him, my gaze locked with his, my mouth slightly open, as my breath becomes shallower with the building pleasure.
His posture is rigid, all his attention centered on me, the cake now forgotten. I see him swallow, lick his parted lips and then notice a movement than can’t be mistaken for anything but what it is: he adjusts himself. He must be hard.
I grip the tablecloth in a fist, biting my lip to stifle a groan. My pleasure is building, heightened by the awareness that I’m affecting him in such a way. I’m so close to the edge, threatening to tip over any second when he speaks a single word with quiet authority.
“Stop.”
I immediately pull my fingers from my pussy.
“Show me how wet you are.”
Timidly, I raise my hand, showing him my sticky fingers. He groans before leaning over the table, grabbing my hand and licking my fingers. He closes his eyes for a short moment, obviously relishing my taste. When he opens them again they are dark stormy wells of carnal lust.
“Come. It's time." His voice is coarser, darker than usual.
“Time for what?”
The only answer I get is a devilish grin. My stomach flips as he confirms my suspicion; it’s time for that, for him to claim new territory, to take what no other man has taken. I’m suddenly tense, scared and yet eager.
Mr. Callahan stalks around the table and pulls me to my feet, staring down on me with that voracious gaze. He grasps my hand and leads me from the dining room. He’s all but pulling me through the restaurant, exiting through a different door than the one I’d entered.
“Shouldn’t we stay and pay?” I ask. I’m flustered by his apparent urgency. He’s gone from aloof teasing to ferocious urgency in nano-seconds. And I’m just trying to keep up with him.
“What?” He sounds impatient, irritated even, at my question.
“We left the restaurant without paying.”
“Of course not, all cost will be charged to the room.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, making me feel stupid for not understanding the simplest facts.
“What room?” Now I’m irritated as well.
Something in my tone must have jolted him out of whatever mindset he was locked in, because he stops to look at me, really look at me. Then his features soften.
“I’m sorry, Miss Steel. I forgot my manners for a minute,” he says tenderly, stroking my cheek. “You are such gift to be treasured and I treat you like a harlot at a beer bash.”
I lean into his palm, delighted by his gentle touch and can’t help giggling at his words.
“Oh, my beautiful Miss Steel. If you knew the effect you had on me, you would praise me for my endurance.”
He pulls me into his arms. I feel his erection poking my stomach. It does funny things to me, makes me forget that we’re in public, and I grind my hips against him.
“I guess I’m not the only one affected,” he chuckles. Embarrassed by my behavior, I blush, try to pull away from him, but he holds me fast, whispering in my ear. “I am dying to fuck you, burning not only to once again claim that gorgeous cunt of yours, but also that tight virgin ass.”
A shiver runs through me. My drenched pussy clenches, and I feel the gush of added wetness coating the insides of my thighs. In my ass, the butt-plug feels like a welcome intrusion, making my rear passage throb in anticipation of the cock soon to replace it.
Contrary to his coarse language, he kisses my forehead with profound gentleness, before letting go of me. I now notice that we are in a hotel lobby and, all at once, his previous comment about a room makes perfect sense. I blush again at my stupidity.
Where was I thinking he would fuck me? At the restaurant restroom? In the parking garage?
Mr. Callahan leads me through the delicately furnished lobby towards an elevator. We’re not the only people entering when the doors slide open. At this hour, the hotel seems busy. After pressing the button for the twelfth floor, Mr. Callahan positions us in the back, the others filing in to stand in front of us.
We seem to stop at every floor, letting someone on or off. It’s slow going.
Halfway up, Mr. Callahan pulls me closer to him, as if creating more space for a group of young women. But his hand moves to the base of my spine, slowly sliding further down, over the curves of my ass, stopping level with the butt-plug. I gasp as his fingers lightly touch it through the fabric of my dress, sending small vibrations traveling along the toy to deep within me.
I pant and bite my lip to prevent from moaning out loud. I lean in to him, the back of my head resting on his shoulder, my legs suddenly struggling to keep me upright.
His mouth at my ear, he whispers salacious promises of what’s to come. “First I’m going to undress you, to see you in your naked glory.” His free hand is brushing over my arm, making goose bumps appear. “Then I’m going to fuck…” his erection presses into my rump, “your dripping wet cunt. Ah yes, I can smell your arousal from here you little whore, a slut so hungry for this.”
Again he thrusts against me, making very clear what he is referring to.
My insides tremble at his words; I’m almost at breaking point.
“I’m going to give you so much pleasure that you will loose that brilliant mind of yours, becoming only the wanton creature I know resides inside you. I’m not going to let you cum until you are begging me to fuck…” slowly he increases the pressure on the plug, ”your ass.” The last word is said with a hissing deep groan, as if he can hardly contain himself anymore than I can.
A moan slips out from deep within me. Fortunately, at that exact moment, the elevator door dings and slides open, masking my groan.
“We’re here,” he announces.
“Huh?” is my less than intelligent response.
“At our floor, Miss Steel,” he smirks knowingly, escorting me out of the elevator.
We’re in a short corridor with only a few doors. The chosen color scheme of blue and beige gives a calm somber ambiance, soft lighting completing the effect.
Once more I feel hesitant, unsure of myself, as I follow this prominent man to the door furthest from the elevator. As if sensing my discomfort, Mr. Callahan takes my hand and squeezes it reassuringly, helping me regain my equilibrium.
At the door, he pauses, facing me.
“When we enter here, I will worship you like no man has done before me. I will take you and pay homage to your womanhood. It will be intense and carnal; I can promise you’ll experience something that you’ve never experienced before.”
During his short monologue, I’ve held my breath and now I let it out slowly and shakily. He has me completely spellbound; I’m enthralled.
“Are you ready, Miss Steel?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
A weak, tremulous, “Yes,” is all I manage.
“Yes what?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Good girl,” he smiles, sliding a keycard into the lock, he ushers me through the open door into another world, where different rules apply.
The door closes behind us. I don’t even notice the room’s decor or furnishings. All my senses are focused on the man behind me, the tense anticipation between us. I can feel him closing in on me, slowly, one quiet step at a time, lessening the distance between our bodies. He stops right behind me, close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his body. I’m acutely aware of him, waiting for his first touch.
Still, when it comes, I jump. A hand on my shoulder, moving slowly up the back of my neck, collecting my hair in a fist. A gentle pull to lean my head to the side, exposing my neck to soft kisses, small pecks sending shivers down my spine. I moan when his free hand travels up my thigh, caressing hip and waist, circling a breast, gently gripping it, the thumb rubbing at my nipple through the fabric.
His mouth at my neck is driving me wild, nibbling, kissing, teasing. I press my body into him, rubbing my rump against his erection, wanting to feel more, desperate for some kind of release of this tension that has been building for days. I’m awarded by a tug on my hair, making me wince.
“Not yet!” he hisses.
“But Sir, I need, I want you,” I whine.
“My beautiful, horny slut, so desperate for it. Be patient, you will have your fill soon enough. Now be still and let me tend to you.”
“Yes Sir,” I whisper, setting myself up to take all he dispenses, wanting to make him proud of me.
“There you go,” he murmurs while continuing his slow teasing administration at my neck. “Now let me see how wet you are for me.”
His hand glides from my breast, over my stomach, and gathers the fabric of my skirt, raising the hem. I know what he’ll find. I’m soaking, not only my sex dripping wet with my juices, but my thighs sticky as well.
He gently nudges my feet apart with his own, his hand going down, sliding between my legs. My head falls back and a groan passes my lips when his fingers enter my swollen pussy.
“Fuck.” Mr. Callahan’s voice is a volcanic rumble.
I shudder at his intimate touch. I’m struggling not to do anything but just accept it. My breath is short and shallow. I can tell by Mr. Callahan’s heavy breathing that he’s not unaffected either.
The hissed, “God, Miss Steel,” as he buries his face in my hair, inhaling me, indicates the thin line he’s walking right now.
I expand my chest in elation, knowing that he is as affected by me, as I am by him.
Slowly his fingers start moving, teasing, slipping, penetrating me. He finger-fucks me with the precision of a master pianist. My knees tremble, as I quickly approach my peak. My insides tighten, everything focused, and then he stops, pulling out his fingers just before I topple over the edge.
“Noo,” I protest.
“My naughty, hungry little whore. You will not be allowed to cum yet.”
He caresses my neck with his sticky digits, leaving a trail of my fluid. His tongue isn’t far behind, licking my skin clean.
“Divine, Miss Steel. You taste absolutely divine.”
He turns me around to face him, his gaze locked with mine as he forces his fingers into my mouth, making me suck them. His hungry kiss follows. His lips crush down on mine, he is devouring my mouth, his hands on my waist, pulling me close.
His fingers find my zipper and my dress falls to the floor, exposing my naked form. I’m standing in only stockings, garter belt and high heels.
Mr. Callahan’s groan at the view, precedes greedy hands exploring my skin. Like gluttonous leaches, his fingers travel across the expanse of my flesh, stroking, grabbing, groping. I feel he’s close to losing control, all that primal ferociousness just beneath the surface.
I want to touch him too, feel his skin under my fingertips. But I’m unsure of the rules of this game, what I’m supposed to do. Hesitantly, I raise my trembling hands to his collar, sliding them beneath his suit jacket, but stop before removing it.
“Sir?” My query is obvious and he nods.
I make quick work of the jacket, sliding it to the floor, where it’s soon joined by his tie, vest and dress shirt. He helps me with the cuff links that my fumbling fingers have difficulty with.
His chest is smooth, taut muscle. I let my fingers trace a minuscule scar above the right nipple, one that I’ve not noticed before. Bending down, I lick along it, before closing my mouth around his nipple, biting down.
He growls, and suddenly my head is yanked back, my hair in one of his fists, the other hand holding my jaw. He looks down at me with burning eyes. His nostrils are flaring. I sense how close his control is to snapping; I discover I like it. I am curious to know what kind of beast lurks beneath that controlled surface. So far I’ve only seen glimpses, but I’m sure there is an infinite depth to his ferocity. It awakens something in me, connects with something previously slumbering, and I want more of it.
“Naughty little minx, aren’t you?” he growls.
And, surprisingly, a deep chuckle rises up my throat. A sound like no other I have ever made in my life. I feel another me is rising to the surface, looking through my eyes at him.
He must have seen the change, because he hisses, “That does it!” Grabbing me, he pulls me hard, dragging me after him further into the room, that seems to be more of a suite.
His harsh handling only makes me more wanton, a carnal being, enjoying his rough hands. When he throws me down on a soft bed, I arch, preening like a cat in heat.
“Fuck,” Mr. Callahan hisses between clenched teeth. He unbuckles his belt and moves to position himself above me.
I yank at his fly, trying to hurry him on, but he grabs my hands, pushing them above my head.
Once again that chuckle is my only answer. I don’t recognize myself, but right now I don’t care. I just want him. Now! I have waited for days, and I’m beyond ready.
“Fuck, Miss Steel. You are going to make me loose control.”
“Maybe I want you to loose control?”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
We are locked in that position for what seems to be eternity, both breathing heavily, staring at each other. What is he waiting for?
“Sir?” My voice is deep and husky. My hips arch to grind my hotness against his still clothed erection, inviting him to play with me, to use me.
Something in him changes, but I can see he is still in a modicum of control, and I accept that is how it’s going to be for now. Maybe he will let himself be fully feral with me another time. I’m just happy the stalemate is over, and we are now moving on.
He removes his belt and wraps it around my wrists. I relish the feel of the leather biting into my skin. Now he is taking position over me, showing me that he’s in charge.
Mr. Callahan gets up from the bed to remove the rest of his garments while looking down on me, feasting on me with his eyes. I look back, taking in his glorious naked form. A hand is around his hard cock, slowly stroking, making me moan and lick my lips.
“You little horny slut,” he chuckles. “You want this? You want my cock in you?”
“Yes,” I whine.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, Sir. Please Sir.”
He moves and he’s on top of me but not giving me what I want. Leaning on his elbows, he holds himself up. I try to reach for him with my bound hands, try to get my body closer to his, but in vain. He is showing me that this is on his terms, on his time schedule, regaining a bit more of his control in the process.
“You want me to fuck you pet? Want to be my little slut?”
His erection slowly glides through my wetness when he speaks.
“Please Sir, I need that.”
I’m almost crying in sexual frustration.
“Tell me what you want pet! I want you to hear you say it.” He removes his pelvis, depriving me of even the feel of his manhood against me.
“I want you to fuck me, Sir. I want your cock in my aching cunt, Sir.”
“There, there. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he croons.
With one quick hard thrust he enters me fully, filling me, finally gloriously stretching me. The fast action almost makes me cum, the walls of my sex squeezing his dick, spasming around him. But, instead of moving, he pauses, keeping still, letting me adjust to him. I try to move my hips to get the friction I need to orgasm, but a firm grip holds me in place.
My frustrated groan is only met with another chuckle. Not until my trembling stops and I relax again does he start to move. Slow, deliciously long strokes hold me right on the edge. It feels so good, his hard flesh inside my wet softness. With the butt-plug in my rear passage it’s quite different. It feels more intense, fuller than I’ve experienced before.
His hands roam my body with deliberation, touching me, stroking me. He has me right where he wants me, in his expert control. Then he suddenly quickens the pace and I think that now, yes… I can almost feel it, I’m heading for it and…
“Nooo,” I scream when he pulls out just the moment before my climax.
“Not yet,” he whispers while nibbling my neck, my body trembling under his.
“Stop teasing me,” I hiss.
“Why would I do that? It’s so much fun teasing you?” His eyes twinkle with mirth.
Oh lord, he’s beautiful. He totally steals my breath away.
“Sir,” I beg. “I need…”
“I know my beautiful slut. I know. Patience, little one. Soon enough. I’ll tell you when.”
“Promise, Sir.”
“I promise,” he says, smiling and kissing my nose before flipping me over to leave my ass in the air, my head pressed down in the mattress.
This time he penetrates me slowly, but ends with one hard push. His fingers play with the plug making it move in time with his grinding hips. It does not take long for me to build towards the peak again. His slow deliberate strokes, combined with the moving butt-plug, have my body tense in anticipation. But, just like the first time, he pulls out seconds before I topple over the edge.
“Aargh,” I howl my frustration into the bed.
I’m flipped onto my back again, panting and shaking beneath him. A tear of frustration runs down my cheek and he rubs it away with his thumb.
“My sweet, beautiful whore, so in need of cumming.” The teasing is gone from his voice, only adoration and care is left. “You are ready, Sweetness.”
“Ready?” I echo, stupidly.
He raises one eyebrow, smirking at me.
“Oh! That!”
“Yes, that. Spread your legs, nice and wide. Show me that beautiful cunt and asshole.”
I comply and Mr. Callahan adjusts my position till he’s satisfied. “Hold it right there.”
He moves to the edge of the bed, taking something from the pocket of his trousers. It’s a small tube of lube that he uses to coat his throbbing cock. My ass is clenching around the plug. Yes, he is right. I’m ready. All fear is gone. I’m in such a heightened state of arousal right now that only a small nervous thrill remains. I want this, want him to claim me like no other before him, to make that territory completely his.
When his fingers grab the plug to remove it, I groan at the sensation. I feel strangely empty before he quickly replaces it with his lubed fingers, making my entrance slippery. I close my eyes, enjoying the new penetration. For a short time his fingers fuck me but then they exit as well. I moan in protest.
Mr. Callahan shifts and I feel his breath near my ear. “What a wanton little fuck-toy you are,” he whispers. “Don’t worry whore, you will soon have something better.”
Feeling his hard slippery cock nudging my back entrance I push against him, so hungry for the sensation.
“Careful pet, you’ll hurt yourself. Just keep your position and let me do this.”
His crooning voice soothes me, and I let him take the lead. He’s on his knees, legs spread wide, his proud manhood glistening. He pulls me closer to him so I rest on his thighs, his erection poking my rosebud.
The penetration is slow, almost excruciatingly so. Mr. Callahan has prepared me well, and he slides in quite easily. Even if there is some initial stretching pain I adjust quickly to his girth. Still, the sensation is intense, he is bigger than the plug, and there is a dull ache accompanied by the pleasure of being filled like this.
“Hmm, Sir,” I moan. “That feels so good.”
“So fucking tight,” he groans, stopping when his groin hits my pelvis, not moving further. I’m pinned to his cock, unable to move in this position with my hands still bound.
“Please Sir,” I beg, moving my hips the little I can to indicate what I long for.
“Wait Miss Steel. I’m about to lose it here.”
“I don’t care.” I exhale. “I need you to fuck me! Now, Sir,” I pant.
And with a groan he gives in, finally losing control. He growls and grabs my hips, pounding me hard and fast. It hurts, but it’s also blissful ecstasy, making me writhe and moan.
He releases a stream a profanities, calling me not only his whore, along with other names, but tells me how he now owns my fuck-holes, how I’m all his to use and abuse at his will. I don’t protest. I want to be his, to be owned by him, used by him. I need it, almost as much as I need to breathe.
I’m filled with an incredible elation at being claimed as his in this way. As if he is not only claiming my body, but my soul as well.
And then it happens; finally he lets me build beyond the point of no return. I reach my peak, and explode, violently thrashing, a roar like no other tearing from my throat. My body is on fire, and my ass clamps down on his driving cock. It does not stop him - not at all - only makes him more savage, grabbing my thighs harder as he pummels my asshole.
“More, you fucking slut. Give me more!” he roars. “Cum for me again.”
And I do, either from his words or his brutal treatment of my ass. Shaking, trembling, moaning, over and over I climax, until I’m completely wrung out.
“No more, I can’t,” I protest when he demands me to cum once more.
He leans down, putting his weight on mine, his body slick with sweat, growling in my ear, “Just one more Miss Steel. For me… cum with me.”
His voice is strained. I can hear that he is now close to his own climax. The way he says it, as if it’s his dying wish, makes all the difference. I let myself drown in the sensation of his body on top of mine, of his fingers digging in to my hips as his pace becomes urgent, erratic.
His groaned mantra of, “Mine, mine, mine,” in my ear is what, eventually, does me in. When his body tenses and his cock twitches in my ass, ejaculating his seed deep within me, marking me, I manage one last orgasm. Not earth shattering or overwhelming, instead a warm breeze blowing through my body.
He holds me tight to him, whispering that one word, “Mine.”
I’m tired, utterly spent and feel so safe and content in his embrace. I drift off to sleep, but awaken as the bed shifts and his warmth disappears. I moan a groggy protest, feeling bereft of his nearness. A soothing hand and kiss on my forehead calms me.
“Hush pet, I’ll be back soon. I’m just going to wash up quickly.”
He returns shortly, smelling of soap and with a warm washcloth that he wipes me with, cleaning me.
“Hmm, that’s nice.”
“I’m so proud of you pet. You’ve made me so happy tonight.”
I burrow into his warm chest. In his arms I am safe. I am his. And he is mine.
“Mine,” I whisper, drifting off to sleep in his embrace.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: My gratitude to JWren for time spent checking my English and editing.
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