The Orchid The Storyteller
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My First "Sex" Story free porn video
She lay back on the firm bed carefully. Her wrists were chained behind her and she didn't want to become bruised. Her long auburn hair was cast over her shoulders and d****d around her breasts. Her eyes were blue-green but concealed behind a silken scarf. Pale, freshly washed skin blushed in the morning light. Her black bra and panties were all that were between her and the man that stood over her. She could feel his presence, his eyes, his power over her. Her lips parted in a silent, quivering moan as she thought about pleasing him. She squeezed her knees together, squirming on the bed, as she felt the throbbing insistence of her sex. She wanted him inside her, stretching her and filling her, but even more so, she wanted to please him with her mouth. Her lips and tongue, and yes, even her swallowing and gagging throat were her most useful gifts to her Master. She knew he was prowling around her, watching her, enjoying her anticipation. She felt his breath on her neck and his lips tickled the hair that spiraled around her right ear.
"Spread your legs, girl."
Her breath caught with the idea of opening herself to this man. She was sopping already. She could feel her juices drenching her panties and trickling between the firm cheeks of her ass. She considered resisting his command and shaking her head but he had been stern with her before. He had wet his hand between her legs and spread the wetness across her upturned ass and spanked her. The moisture had made it sting more and the sound, that lovely wet sound, wrung in her mind still. So many slaps that she had broken down and cried. But a greater anguish was the feeling of his disappointment in her and her need to make it all up to him. And so she had buried her head in the couch cushions to muffle her cries. And later, the taste of her salty tears had mixed with his salty seed. She had looked up, blinking past stinging eyes and ravaged lips to see the pleasure in her Master. That had made everything alright. And so now, as he commanded her to open herself to him, she complied.
Her long, smooth legs spread wide for him. Her years of grueling ballet instruction made this possible. Panties stretched over her shaved pussy letting cooling air into its steamy recesses. Vulnerable; so very vulnerable right now. She waited for...something: a word, a breath, a touch. Something to remind her of his approval and pleasure in her body. Something. Anything. Please. Seconds passed and she discovered she had been holding her breath. Her breath came out ragged and with a sense of defeat. What could he be doing? Was he displeased with her? She spread her legs as wide as she could and bit her lip through the aching pain. Her heart was beating fast, almost fearful of what he might do now. If she had pleased him he would have responded by now. What came next would be the fruit of his disappointment. Would he slap her? Would his hands punish the offending part of her body? She whimpered in anticipation. The ache of her thigh ligaments faded as her body adjusted to her gymnastics and her mind flew forward with imagining provocative punishments.
Pain pricked her breasts. Wet heat spread over her. Boiling water? No! Ice...so cold it burned her skin, made more sensitive from the blindfold. She moaned as the chip of fire skated across flesh. Her nipples hardened into steel under her Master's ministrations. She felt the weight of his body lean into the mattress so he could reach all of her. He was so near, his touch just beyond the tingling pain of the ice. Warmth beyond the cold; pleasure beyond the pain. The nearness of such things caused her to moan for him. She found herself saying his name in a pleading little whisper that trailed off into a hushed silence. No more ice, no more taunting silence. Just give it to me, she thought, just please let me suck you and feel that warm, gooey stuff fill my mouth. Please.
Her lips were parted in this quiet prayer when his soft lips enveloped them. Moist, sucking, insistent kisses dominated her consciousness. Her breathing became heavier and she was acutely aware that she could not reach out to hold him to her. She was bound there for his pleasure. She returned his lip's caresses with passionate kisses of her own. Sucking on his lips, she writhed and luxuriated in this tentative connection they shared. Would he give her more? Would he pull away and leave her gasping and unsatisfied? Her kisses were the expression of her need for him. She hungered for his touch and let him know.
She could feel her Master respond. His breathing became heavy and her body thrilled to this. Yes! And then his hand was on her tight stomach. It was warm and gentle and moving slowly past her bellybutton towards her legs. She dripped in anticipation. So close...damn...so...so...fucking..., and then his fingers slid over the fleshy mound of her pubis and down into the steamy depths of her, ...there! Her breath caught in her throat and her kissing wavered for a moment as all of her consciousness filled that tight little place that his fingers invaded. She felt herself parting for his deep touch, resisting and welcoming him at the same time. She imagined it being his cock, pushing in deep, and sending her to places she could never reach alone. He had three fingers inside her. They were almost too much but she wanted to please him and take whatever he chose to give to her. Her kissing took on the slow, forceful nature of his fingers working inside her. Her legs closed around his hand. She wanted to keep it and squeeze it and hold it there for her pleasure. That was a mistake and she knew it instantly.
His kissing stopped and his free hand closed around her neck. Her eyebrows rose high over her blindfold in surprise. She clenched her inner muscles around his fingers that still invaded her. His grip tightened around her white neck and she could feel the pressure put on her artery's circulation. She gasped and whimpered and shook her head as if to say, No, please. I forgot myself, Master, but I will be good for you. I will be a good slave for you! But she knew if she spoke out of turn he would only become more severe. A tear soaked into the scarf as she realized that she had suddenly lost whatever ground she had towards pleasing him. You're so stupid!
"What do you think you are doing, girl? I told you to open those fuck-ing legs, bitch." The words battered her without his ever raising his voice. She could hear and feel his breath on her face. She knew he was looking down on her cower with a stern gaze. Despite herself, she felt her pussy get wetter and further soak his fingers as they continued to push inside of her. He was being rough with his slave. His grip was firmly around her neck and his fingers dug into her sweet, pink velvet.
"Forgive me, Master..." She gasped, feeling a mix of guilty pleasure and sweet discomfort.
Then she felt It against her lips. Hot and fleshy and laying a sticky strand of warm lubricant over her chin. She almost came right then. She gasped and with the opening of her mouth he pushed inside of her. She responded without thought. It was a well-trained response of a slave's acceptance of her Master's cock wherever it might be thrust upon her. Her consciousness was a slow, deep, responding thing. She had no concept of where she was or the time of day. Only her act of devotion existed. Her lips closed around it and sucked. Her tongue stroked the slick head that filled her mouth. She lay there prone, cuffed and blindfolded, at his mercy. One of his hands rooted between her legs and the other held her down forcefully by her throat. To another man or at a different time this would be something ghastly but today it was what she needed. She needed to be held down and made to do things for her Master; to please him in whatever way he chose. She was his girl, his slave, his plaything.
And so she did please him; She spread herself wide for his fingers; She lay silent and accepting; She sucked him as she had been trained to do. He liked it sloppy and rough and noisy and she gave him all she had. A sticky mix of pre-cum and spittle escaped the corner of her mouth and dripped off her chin in a long, shaking strand. She was sucking and gasping and choking on him. It was overwhelming and rough and all she could think was, More! And there was more. He grinded into her deep, fingers and cock, and she could feel herself peaking.
His fingers responded with a sort scooping motion inside her that intensified her electrified orgasm further. She began to cum hard as he filled her mouth and throat. Her body shook and she moaned around his swollen thing. It was a low, smothered sound someplace deep in her throat. It must have been that vibration that finally pushed her Master over his own edge. She felt his muscled body shudder and stiffen. He groaned like an a****l and grunted with each seed pumping thrust of his hips.
They came together. It was a long, rippling sensation that coursed through her whole body. She felt his pearly cream spurt inside her mouth. He splashed inside of her with every grinding thrust and she drank him. Every drop. I'm his slut! I'm his slut, she screamed in her mind. Gasping and gulping him down. She swallowed every drop as fast as it filled her hungry mouth until there was no more and then she sucked him hard for the last pearl of his pleasure.
She realized that his hand had been away from her neck for some time. His fingers and cock withdrew wet and sticky from her. She had done well. She could hear it in the way he breathed. Her body flushed with a pleasure entirely different from an orgasm: emotional satisfaction. Sweet, sticky satisfaction made her feel like she was floating. And then she was lifted in his gentle arms and her wrists parted with the turn of a key. Light flooded in bright and glorious and she blinked it away. His lips kissed her neck and shoulders and his hands held her to him tight. This is heaven, she thought to herself dreamily. We've died and gone to heaven...
"Spread your legs, girl."
Her breath caught with the idea of opening herself to this man. She was sopping already. She could feel her juices drenching her panties and trickling between the firm cheeks of her ass. She considered resisting his command and shaking her head but he had been stern with her before. He had wet his hand between her legs and spread the wetness across her upturned ass and spanked her. The moisture had made it sting more and the sound, that lovely wet sound, wrung in her mind still. So many slaps that she had broken down and cried. But a greater anguish was the feeling of his disappointment in her and her need to make it all up to him. And so she had buried her head in the couch cushions to muffle her cries. And later, the taste of her salty tears had mixed with his salty seed. She had looked up, blinking past stinging eyes and ravaged lips to see the pleasure in her Master. That had made everything alright. And so now, as he commanded her to open herself to him, she complied.
Her long, smooth legs spread wide for him. Her years of grueling ballet instruction made this possible. Panties stretched over her shaved pussy letting cooling air into its steamy recesses. Vulnerable; so very vulnerable right now. She waited for...something: a word, a breath, a touch. Something to remind her of his approval and pleasure in her body. Something. Anything. Please. Seconds passed and she discovered she had been holding her breath. Her breath came out ragged and with a sense of defeat. What could he be doing? Was he displeased with her? She spread her legs as wide as she could and bit her lip through the aching pain. Her heart was beating fast, almost fearful of what he might do now. If she had pleased him he would have responded by now. What came next would be the fruit of his disappointment. Would he slap her? Would his hands punish the offending part of her body? She whimpered in anticipation. The ache of her thigh ligaments faded as her body adjusted to her gymnastics and her mind flew forward with imagining provocative punishments.
Pain pricked her breasts. Wet heat spread over her. Boiling water? No! Ice...so cold it burned her skin, made more sensitive from the blindfold. She moaned as the chip of fire skated across flesh. Her nipples hardened into steel under her Master's ministrations. She felt the weight of his body lean into the mattress so he could reach all of her. He was so near, his touch just beyond the tingling pain of the ice. Warmth beyond the cold; pleasure beyond the pain. The nearness of such things caused her to moan for him. She found herself saying his name in a pleading little whisper that trailed off into a hushed silence. No more ice, no more taunting silence. Just give it to me, she thought, just please let me suck you and feel that warm, gooey stuff fill my mouth. Please.
Her lips were parted in this quiet prayer when his soft lips enveloped them. Moist, sucking, insistent kisses dominated her consciousness. Her breathing became heavier and she was acutely aware that she could not reach out to hold him to her. She was bound there for his pleasure. She returned his lip's caresses with passionate kisses of her own. Sucking on his lips, she writhed and luxuriated in this tentative connection they shared. Would he give her more? Would he pull away and leave her gasping and unsatisfied? Her kisses were the expression of her need for him. She hungered for his touch and let him know.
She could feel her Master respond. His breathing became heavy and her body thrilled to this. Yes! And then his hand was on her tight stomach. It was warm and gentle and moving slowly past her bellybutton towards her legs. She dripped in anticipation. So close...damn...so...so...fucking..., and then his fingers slid over the fleshy mound of her pubis and down into the steamy depths of her, ...there! Her breath caught in her throat and her kissing wavered for a moment as all of her consciousness filled that tight little place that his fingers invaded. She felt herself parting for his deep touch, resisting and welcoming him at the same time. She imagined it being his cock, pushing in deep, and sending her to places she could never reach alone. He had three fingers inside her. They were almost too much but she wanted to please him and take whatever he chose to give to her. Her kissing took on the slow, forceful nature of his fingers working inside her. Her legs closed around his hand. She wanted to keep it and squeeze it and hold it there for her pleasure. That was a mistake and she knew it instantly.
His kissing stopped and his free hand closed around her neck. Her eyebrows rose high over her blindfold in surprise. She clenched her inner muscles around his fingers that still invaded her. His grip tightened around her white neck and she could feel the pressure put on her artery's circulation. She gasped and whimpered and shook her head as if to say, No, please. I forgot myself, Master, but I will be good for you. I will be a good slave for you! But she knew if she spoke out of turn he would only become more severe. A tear soaked into the scarf as she realized that she had suddenly lost whatever ground she had towards pleasing him. You're so stupid!
"What do you think you are doing, girl? I told you to open those fuck-ing legs, bitch." The words battered her without his ever raising his voice. She could hear and feel his breath on her face. She knew he was looking down on her cower with a stern gaze. Despite herself, she felt her pussy get wetter and further soak his fingers as they continued to push inside of her. He was being rough with his slave. His grip was firmly around her neck and his fingers dug into her sweet, pink velvet.
"Forgive me, Master..." She gasped, feeling a mix of guilty pleasure and sweet discomfort.
Then she felt It against her lips. Hot and fleshy and laying a sticky strand of warm lubricant over her chin. She almost came right then. She gasped and with the opening of her mouth he pushed inside of her. She responded without thought. It was a well-trained response of a slave's acceptance of her Master's cock wherever it might be thrust upon her. Her consciousness was a slow, deep, responding thing. She had no concept of where she was or the time of day. Only her act of devotion existed. Her lips closed around it and sucked. Her tongue stroked the slick head that filled her mouth. She lay there prone, cuffed and blindfolded, at his mercy. One of his hands rooted between her legs and the other held her down forcefully by her throat. To another man or at a different time this would be something ghastly but today it was what she needed. She needed to be held down and made to do things for her Master; to please him in whatever way he chose. She was his girl, his slave, his plaything.
And so she did please him; She spread herself wide for his fingers; She lay silent and accepting; She sucked him as she had been trained to do. He liked it sloppy and rough and noisy and she gave him all she had. A sticky mix of pre-cum and spittle escaped the corner of her mouth and dripped off her chin in a long, shaking strand. She was sucking and gasping and choking on him. It was overwhelming and rough and all she could think was, More! And there was more. He grinded into her deep, fingers and cock, and she could feel herself peaking.
His fingers responded with a sort scooping motion inside her that intensified her electrified orgasm further. She began to cum hard as he filled her mouth and throat. Her body shook and she moaned around his swollen thing. It was a low, smothered sound someplace deep in her throat. It must have been that vibration that finally pushed her Master over his own edge. She felt his muscled body shudder and stiffen. He groaned like an a****l and grunted with each seed pumping thrust of his hips.
They came together. It was a long, rippling sensation that coursed through her whole body. She felt his pearly cream spurt inside her mouth. He splashed inside of her with every grinding thrust and she drank him. Every drop. I'm his slut! I'm his slut, she screamed in her mind. Gasping and gulping him down. She swallowed every drop as fast as it filled her hungry mouth until there was no more and then she sucked him hard for the last pearl of his pleasure.
She realized that his hand had been away from her neck for some time. His fingers and cock withdrew wet and sticky from her. She had done well. She could hear it in the way he breathed. Her body flushed with a pleasure entirely different from an orgasm: emotional satisfaction. Sweet, sticky satisfaction made her feel like she was floating. And then she was lifted in his gentle arms and her wrists parted with the turn of a key. Light flooded in bright and glorious and she blinked it away. His lips kissed her neck and shoulders and his hands held her to him tight. This is heaven, she thought to herself dreamily. We've died and gone to heaven...
Gert
- 24.12.2022
- 20
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