His is bigger than yours
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For You, All For You, I’m Yours free porn video
© 2008 Duelduet. All publication rights reserved.
Dear Reader,
When a man has all he wants in life, what do you give him for his birthday? A card is nice, something thoughtful written within. Perhaps a small present, a trinket for on his desk. Other things. Over the years, I’ve gotten a lot of nice things from those who love me. Some of them remembered. Some forgotten. The old cliche fits so well, it is the thought that matters, not the gift.
It is the thought that matters, not the gift itself. Yes, I repeated that on purpose. Here is a gift of giving. The giving of one’s self to another. Submission. Many argue it is not so. Not a gift but a selfish act. They are fools. I say to them, and you, Dear Reader, that here is love. Read and know the love of my girl for me.
I confess I was a little shocked to read this. It made me ask myself, ‘Am I this man?’ Perhaps sometimes. I hope not all the time. Claire made a point to me with this and I point it out so you, the Reader, might see it as I did. She has given herself to me. She is Mine. All Mine. Not for any other. I’m posting this in Romance for truly this is about love.
Claire wrote this for my birthday present. There will be no answering story like the others we’ve posted. How can one respond to this. I suppose I could but no, not this time. Here is a prize I will hold dear to my heart and not forget. A gift from her heart, from my Claire, my love.
I love you Claire, so much. Thank you,
James
*
You walk in to the mud-room, tired from your busy day. The smell of barbecued ribs fills the air and you sigh as your mouth starts to water. Quickly you get rid of your coat and boots and come into the living room.
I come out from the kitchen, nude except for a plain pink kitchen apron, my hair in a ponytail high up on my head.
‘I’m so happy to see you, Daddy.’
I have a tray — scotch and a cigar for you to enjoy. I set the tray down on the end table, stand up on my toes, greeting you with a kiss and then indicate your favorite chair. You sit and I kneel at your feet, laying my head on your knees while I massage your feet. You lean back and close your eyes, letting go of the day while you sip your scotch.
Your stomach growls and so do you. ‘Where’s my dinner, girl?’
‘Right away, Daddy.’
I rise slowly, showing myself off for you, twirling a little and you growl again, giving my butt a light smack.
‘Well, get to it!’
I pad off to the kitchen, a little spring in my step. Moments later, I call you into the dining room. The lights are dimmed, I’ve lit candles and put out the best silverware. You sit down at the head of the table and I bring you a Blue, in a frosted mug. I go back, then return with your dinner, a big rack of steaming ribs. Golden corn gleams mellowly in the candlelight. I’ve done up a baked potato just the way you like it, all the trimmings. Suddenly you’re ravenous and attack your meal like you haven’t eaten in weeks. I also eat, not much, making sure your beer is always full, that you have enough to eat.
After a time you are satisfied and push away from the table. I bring you another scotch, and you return to your chair in the living room. I offer you your cigar and at your nod, light it. I am being very quiet, docile, wanting only to give to you. I settle on a cushion at your feet and look up adoringly at you. I am yours, Daddy This is my pleasure, your happiness is what I live for. Relaxing, you talk about your day, sipping your scotch, your hand on my head, stroking absentmindedly. I am relaxed too, having had some wine at dinner, content to listen.
The energy in the room changes, your mood shifts. You are hungry again. The hand on my head curls around my ponytail, it is thick and strong, you pull me up and kiss me. Hard, demanding, hungry. My hands push against your thighs for support, and you pull my head back, attacking my neck for a moment. You are quick, sudden — urgent. Your other hand pulls at your belt and opens your jeans.
‘Down on your knees, girl. Suck my cock.’
‘Yes, Daddy.’ My eyes are large, startled, but I’ve seen this before. I know what you want. I reach into your briefs and pull you out, carefully over your erection. Impatient, you growl, grabbing the base of your cock and rubbing it over my face, my cheeks, my lips, holding my hair in your other hand.
‘Open up, girl.’ You tap my lips with your silky steel shaft, the engorged head plush and pressing on my lips, already moistened in anticipation. I part my lips, too slowly, you firmly yank my ponytail back. My jaw drops open and you push my head down on your cock, firmly, pushing me down on you until your cock touches the back of my throat. The muscles of my throat contract for a second, and you bark out a command.
‘Relax!’
You could have barked, for all that it mattered. I automatically react to that voice, your command. I am yours, yours to take as you wish, how you wish. My throat opens and you push me down further. I start to choke a little.
‘No, not this time, girl. You’ll take it all for me.’
Once again, your voice, it commands me. It’s a reminder of who you are, who I am, and the gifts that were offered and accepted. I love you Daddy. I am yours.
I let go, submitting completely — yours to use, for everything you give me, the joy and the pleasure and tenderness you give me, I am willing to give back. Take me, Daddy — do as you would.
I will myself to let go completely. I become boneless, relaxed, stiffening only my arms for support. You pull my head up and down, on and off your cock, grunting.
‘Unngh. Yeah. Like that, Baby?’ I groan in response, a muffled mmm-hmmm.
‘Fuck your mouth girl, mmmmmm. Yeah. That’s my girl. I’m gonna take what I want, this time.’
Abruptly you pull me off, stand up, and pull me up by my hair, other hand on my chin, drawing me to my toes again. You kiss me fiercely again, your tongue plunges into my mouth and searches for mine, and when I tentatively touch yours you suck it into your mouth greedily. You break the kiss, but hold my head still, eye-to-eye and lip-to-lip.
‘Mine, girl!’ A declaration, a promise, a vow. It thrills me. Your ferocity, your possession. I wonder if you know how much it does. To offer myself for your pleasure, just yours — to slake your hunger. Ooohhhhh…..
You pick me up and throw me over your shoulder, booty, a prize, and cart me off to the bedroom. I squeal delightedly, and again and again when you smack my ass, just because you like to hear the sound.
You kick open the door and toss me lightly on the bed. I flip over, on my back, watching you. Sparks seem to flash in your eyes as you stand at the end of the bed, looking me over carefully as you undress. It makes me shiver, the intent, the intensity, arousing an almost sexual terror, anticipating the beast.
Clothes discarded, you signal, twirling your finger. I turn back over on my stomach, get on my hands and knees. I feel your weight on the bed and I break out in gooseflesh, waiting.
Hands on my hips, knee rudely shoved in between mine and spread apart — Oh, fuck, yeah! You thrust powerfully, my pussy already wet and ready for you for your use. Again! Again! There is a loud smack each time our hips meet. Your balls slap my labia and I grunt with your force, your assault. This is about you, not me. My only thought is to be strong and take you, receive you, need your sweet violence.
I concentrate, bearing down when our hips meet, trying to grab your pulsing hot cock with my grasping muscles, slick with readiness, and my desire to please you. Slam, slam, slam! You fuck me — without design, without thought, just pure need to go deeper, harder, faster! You pull out and I whimper — in pain? In need? It doesn’t matter. Your love makes me strong, your power makes me submit, your need makes me want, desire, accept and take you within me.
Something about my creamy, jiggling cheek displeases you. You grab hold of my ponytail and wrap it around your hand, arching me back, opening myself for you, but that isn’t it. SMACK! There it is, the red glowing print your mark — drives you on again to plunge, over and over and over again.
And again, you pull out, and shove one arm between my legs, knocking one out and you pull me over, onto my back. Again, your knee, shoving my legs apart brusquely, both arms slamming down on the bed on either side of me as you sink yourself into me with bruising force, driving the air from my lungs as you fall on me. I reach forward to embrace you —
‘Give them to me!’ Up, over my head, wrists together for you to pin me to the bed, with driving hips, iron grip, and your mouth, attacking my face, my neck, the delicate flesh underneath my arms, taut and distended nipples on my swollen breasts. My skin is flushed and my eyes are bright and wet. My legs wrap around your hips, urging you on.
Fuck me, Daddy, make me yours. Use me for your pleasure. You hear me cry. See my mouth slack, throat full, but hear and sense this only in a distracted way, so consumed you are by the need to fuck. To rut mindlessly. To feel the blood boil under your skin until your vision is blurred in a crimson haze.
It is starting. That pulling heat, the building from the back of your knees and up your thighs, the gathering of strength and heat and you begin to mutter and groan.
‘Take it baby, here it comes.’ Groan. Thrust. Slam. ‘uuuhhhhh.’
‘Yes, Daddy!’ I clench down hard, squeezing with all my might.
Harder now, building faster. Your ass clenches rhythmically, your abdomen tightens. My heels dig into your hips, pushing, wanting, needing you. ‘Uuhhhhhh!’ Not a thought left in your head as you fuck, fuck, fuck and your balls swell with heat and your cock fills with mercury and you spill …
‘Uhhh-uhhhh-uhhh-UUUUHHHHH!’ Your head comes back and your one final thrust rears you back and your hot seed spurts in long electric jets– and you collapse, still inside me, subsiding, you let go of my wrists, my arms come around and enfold you, stroking you, reveling in the feel of your pulsing.
Twitching gently, my pussy softly grasping, gentle squeezes, pounding heart slowing, quieting, gentling, slowing…sweet, sweet sleep.
*
Thank you for reading. We hope you enjoyed ‘For You, All For You, I’m Yours’ — James & Claire.
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