Not all D/s relationships need the paraphernalia of collars,shackles, whips, chains, clamps and gags – fun as they can be in the right hands. Sometimes all that’s necessary is that appetites of the Dom and Sub are in harmony. And, of course, a little love always helps.
“Filling Usha” is a story about a couple who have a ” courtship of eloquent body language and coarse words.” Do you think this is a D/s relationship? Does it matter? Let me know what you think.
Usha holds the head of the large white vibrator against her plump labia and waits until I give the signal. She knows I never fuck her until after I have seen her come at least once.
She is naked on the bed, facing me, legs spread, weight on her elbows. The vibrator is a gift from me. It looks startlingly pale against her coffee-coloured skin.
I have often watched Usha’s flesh sheen like satin with sex-sweat; I have tasted its most intimate folds and clung with my teeth to its highest peaks and I never tire of it.
Usha said once that I look at her the way a half-starved man looks at a Vegas-style “all you can eat” buffet, not sure he can eat it all but real determined to try.
Today is Friday. I’ve been away all week. Our fucking has been restricted to phone sex. All through the drive back I have been thinking about how it feels when Usha’s cunt spasms around my cock. I knew she would be ready to party as soon as I got home. I found her kneeling on the bed, displaying her freshly shaved mound and her lubed ass.
When I handed her the new vibe she grinned, rubbed it lewdly between her small breasts and said, “I sure hope batteries are included.”
I pulled up a wooden chair and sat less than a foot away from her, my body as stiff as the chair itself, my attention completely on her.
“Put it against your cunt,” I said.
Ours is a courtship of eloquent body language and coarse words.
So now she is waiting. I can see she that wants to take it inside her. Usha likes large toys.
On my 40th birthday, Usha turned up at my house wearing nothing but a T-shirt with “Happiness is a full cunt and a hard come” written across it. I try my best to make Usha happy as often as possible.
I make her wait. It meets a need in both of us. I can almost taste Usha’s yearning now.
“Do it,” I say “but do it slowly.”
She leers at me when the crown of the fake cock pushes past her labia. That leer is a challenge she knows I will rise to.
When the first six inches are in, she throws her head back. She is still resting on her elbows facing me. Her chin juts like a weapon. One hand moves slyly up to her breast, plucking at the nipple. The other hand pushes hard. She grunts and takes the huge phallus deep into her cunt. Her eyes are closed. She is grinning in triumph.
“Turn it on to high,” I say. “Pump it. Stretch that tight wet cunt for me. Show me you can take it.” I am undressing as I speak, flinging away my coat and tie but never taking my eyes off her.
Usha lets herself fall back onto the bed, bends her knees, spreads wide and fucks herself rapidly. My cock hardens. I am naked to the waist, leaning forward in the chair, devouring the sight of her. I am ready for the next step.
“Turn around,” I say. “I want your ass in the air and your face buried in the pillow. DON’T take that thing out of your cunt until I give you permission.”
She mutters in protest at having her rhythm broken. She keeps working the vibe as she struggles to get in the right position. When her ass is all the way up, she sets up a pattern of slow, deep, penetration. Her hand, reaching back over the soft curves of her ass, working the vibrator like a natural extension of her fingers, reminds me of the nodding-donkey rigs on the smaller Texas oil fields. Usha is drilling for her come.
Behind her, out of sight, I rip open the foil wrapper on a condom. She misreads the signs and says “Yeah Baby, do me. Fill me right up.”
The condom-covered vibe that I push slowly into her lubed ass is completely unexpected. It looks like a slim silver cigar case lodged in her ass. I am holding it by the base. When it is all the way in, I turn the buzzy little motor to maximum speed.
“No you bastard, I want cock. I want YOUR cock,” Usha says.
I step back, pleased with the symmetry of her plastic penetrators.
“Leave them both in you,” I say. “Concentrate. Squeeze them. Try to suck them into you.”
The vibes are starting to get to her. Usha presses her face into the pillow and mutters “Bastard,” over and over.
“I said SQUEEZE them.”
She grunts with the effort of obeying me. She is starting to sweat. She is almost ready.
“Get up. Kneel in front of me. Grab your ankles. Look at me.”
Her pupils have dilated. Her forehead is dewed with sweat. I can smell her cunt.
I free myself from the last remnants of my office clothes. I let my hard cock stand inches from her breasts.
Usha licks her lips.
“Come for me, Usha. Let those double dicks do you. Show me you can take them. Ride that come. Ride it.”
“YES,” she shouts and the rest is a scream. A long, stretched, luscious scream.
Her back arches. The muscles on her thighs and forearms clench. The come ripples almost visibly through her belly, over her breasts and shakes her head from side to side as it struggles to break free from her.
“Good girl,” I say softly. “Come for me, Usha. Come hard.”
When she is done I touch her for the first time, my thumb brushing her lower lip. She leans her head on my chest, dampening me with her sweat.
Gently I remove the vibes. She is wet and gaping.
I lay her on the bed. All her muscles are relaxed but her face is animated. She knows what will happen next and she wants it.
I am above Usha now, my arms taking all my weight, my cock pleading for action.
Her small hands are stroking my ribs and sliding over my ass. She is ready to climb on me the way a monkey shimmies up a tree.
“Put it against your cunt,” I say and her cool fingers press me against the slick swollen warmth of her labia. Flowers are the sex organs of plants. Usha’s petals are ready to fuck me.
I lower my head. She is so much smaller than me that I completely cover her when I do this. I kiss her mouth.
“Fill yourself,” I say.
Usha’s hips rise and her cunt slips over me, sucking at me with wet eagerness. I push my tongue into her mouth. She wraps her legs around my waist.
“Fuck me, you bastard,” she says.
How can I resist such a romantic request? I rest all my weight on her, cup her buttocks in my hands and start to drill for her happiness.
© Mike Kimera 2000 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from firstname.lastname@example.org
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