Isabelle's Awakening Ch. 02

Isabelle's breath caught in her throat, his whispered words, although vulgar, caused her pussy to tighten, dampening the outer edges of her panties further. She squirmed under him, noticing for the first time his chest pressing down against her nipples, his chest hair causing a hot friction against her puckered breast. His mouth descended again to claim hers, his tongue plunging in to seal his words, showing her with his mouth what he promised to do to her pussy.

Isabelle was lost to the sensations thrashing through her bones, her skin was screaming for his touch and all the while his words ran through her brain like a headline. Shove my finger deep into your wet walls, make out with your pussy, contracting walls. Oh God, she was aching so desperately. Her pussy contracted over and over as the words repeated themselves in her head. His hand plunged into the mass of hair at the back of her neck, his hand gripped tight to pull her away from his mouth. His hot breath in her ear nearly sent her over the edge.

"Oh, Sweet pussy," his voice came out ragged and coarse, "you're contracting for me now. I can feel it Isabelle. That sweet little pussy of yours is so tight that when I push into you it's going to feel like you're trying to push me out. But I can't have that," he chuckled, "No. Your pussy is going to take all of me, every thick, bulging, throbbing inch of me."

She sucked air in between her teeth, frantically trying to escape the throbbing sensations heating her blood to an almost unbearable intensity. There was no escape, the only relief she would find would be when he decreed it and no sooner. The more she showed her weakness the more he would use it against her. She may not know the man, but she sensed a slightly sadistic side to him that would relish using her weaknesses.

She almost came off the bed when his teeth clamped down on one of her nipples, drawing it into his mouth, his full lips sucking her into his mouth. He pulled on her, teasing her into a tight bud of hardened nipple flesh. When he was satisfied that the first nipple was sufficiently hard, he transferred his attention to the other one, lavishing the same slow, sucking, pulling motion. She gripped the bars tightly and watched his head bent over her breasts. She had an overwhelming urge to press him even closer, to keep him suckling at her nipples.

He pulled away from her breasts and looked down at his handiwork. He watched her chest rise with each breath, her stiff nipples wet from his mouth, jutting into the air. He sucked in a ragged breath at the sight. Isabelle wanted to reach for him, pull him back down to her aching breasts and have him continue his torturous explorations but she knew he would only make her wait longer. So she held on to the bars and waited silently, her chest heaving with pent up desire.

He continued to taste her, slower now as he moved even farther down her ribcage. He dropped small kisses onto her side, surprising her with his tenderness when only minutes ago he had ravaged her into oblivion. How could he continue to move so slowly when she felt as though she had been waiting for this forever and couldn't stand to wait another minute? She jumped when she felt his teeth nip at her belly, drawing her skin softly between his teeth and sucking on the soft flesh there.

She almost yelped when his teeth found the top of her panties. His tongue slipped out to taste the skin underneath the waistband and swirl little patterns on her soft under belly. Isabelle knew she could move her hips if she wanted to, but she was under his spell and would do as he asked and not move. But Lord, the exquisite torture he was inflicting on her was enough to drive anyone insane.

He moved farther down until he was once again between her splayed legs. She felt cool air blowing softly against her warm swollen lips and couldn't help the contraction that followed. She had to grit her teeth to stop from crying out or moving. The restlessness was forging a trail through her blood, swelling and growing with each brush of air.

He pushed the slit panties to each side, allowing her lips to push out of their semi-prison. He watched them plump up even more, until the fabric at the side was inconsequential. Isabelle waited, hoping he would touch her because she wasn't sure how much longer she could wait. He started with a kiss, placed softly against her clit. Her lips hid most of her wet pussy but he managed to kiss her clit, separating her lips only slightly with his tongue.

He flattened out his tongue, leisurely lapping at her clit, dragging his tongue over the surface of her sensitive nub. Up and over her mound he lapped, until her clit popped out from under its protective hood. Then he took her into his mouth, sucking and pulling on her clit in the same way he had with her nipples. He pulled more of her clit into his mouth, his soft, full lips cradling her while his tongue teased the small hardened bump. He knew how and where to touch her, too hard this way and she would jump, too soft and she would get complacent.

She felt the blood rushing through her veins and knew it was only a matter of seconds before she came all over his tongue. The delicious lapping of his tongue on her clit was driving her mad. For even though his tongue was soft, his strokes against her clit were not. They were designed to make her clit swell and harden. Again his tongue lapped over her hardened clit and Isabelle came off the bed, moaning and thrashing against his mouth.

She felt the sensations building deep within her pussy walls, the clenching and tightening of her walls as they searched for something to fill them. She fought the urge to grab his head and hold him against her clit. It wasn't necessary as he continued to pull on her tender clit, sometimes letting his teeth scrape her.

He used his hands to spread her lips open and watched her pussy contracting, the wetness seeping out of her. She felt his fingers probing her inner walls, felt him slide two fingers deep into her pussy. Then he rammed them home, her slick sheath making his entrance easy, his fingers scraping every inch of her long neglected pussy. Isabelle couldn't hold out for much longer, she came with a strangled moan escaping her lips and her pussy bucking against his lips.

He slowed his lapping but didn't remove his fingers just yet. Just let his tongue continue to swirl over her traumatized clit, his fingers still probing her tender insides. Isabelle didn't realize her hips were writhing against his hand until he pushed her hips back down into the bed. He removed his lips from her clit and she felt an immediate loss, until she felt him move up her body and grasp her wrists. He held her wrists loosely in one hand with his fingers of his other hand still embedded in her.

"Sweet pussy, Isabelle, you have such a sweet pussy." He looked down at her and smiled in the darkness. "I love the way your pussy squeezes over my fingers, the way it sucks my fingers deeper into you, so wet, so slick and tight. Mmmm."

He firmed up his grip on her wrists and pulled her hands until they were stretched up above her head. His other hand continued to stroke the soft inner folds of her pussy, keeping her slick and warm. He leaned down close to her ear and began to whisper.

"This pussy is mine Isabelle. Can you feel how wet you are wrapped around my fingers right now? How hot your pussy becomes when I'm stroking you? How swollen and tight you feel when your pussy squeezes for me? I need this pussy to cum for me again. I want you pouring out for me."

He said this in a dark guttural whisper that coincided with his feverish stroking of her pussy. His voice was deep and silky sliding over the inner parts of her ear and sending goose bumps racing over her skin. She contracted around his fingers over and over as he kept up his onslaught of pleasure. His body was stretched taut over hers as he gripped her hands and held on.

"Oh God." Isabelle rasped out.

She couldn't stop her hips from meeting his thrusts, pushing up wildly to have more of him jammed up against her pussy walls. His tongue slid around the outer edges of her ear, slipping in to leave a warm damp trail. He tongued the hollow behind her ear and whispered once again.

"Cum Isabelle. Give me that pussy."

Isabelle felt the scream gurgling in her throat as his tongue commanded her to release. She obeyed without question, simply letting the sensations overtake her, as orgasm after orgasm spilled out of her. It was surreal to realize she was literally gushing, her pussy juice squirting out around his hand and wetting the sheets tangled beneath her. She heard moaning and was surprised to realize it came from her.

He released her hands and smoothed the hair from her face. He slid his fingers out of her grasping pussy slowly, amused to see that she was not immune to him. He pulled her panties down to mid-thigh and gazed down at her pubic mound, the curls wet and clinging to her lips. He trailed his finger down one side and back up the other, softly stroking the swollen lips until her breathing had returned to a more normal pace.

Isabelle was completely dazed as she looked up at him. Who was this man? How in the hell could he possibly have this much power over her? She eyed him warily; unsure of what he would take from her next.

He pulled her to the end of the bed and up; then duck walked her over the easy chair in the room. He wasn't gentle by any means, nor was he rough, fiercely determined would best describe it as he pushed her face down over the arm of the chair. His cock bumped against her lips and she moaned, hoping he would take her now, give her pussy what it had so desperately craved since his first visit two months ago.

His cock slid over her lips, her wetness making it easy. He rubbed her clit, pushing his cock against it and drawing little circles over her swollen clit. Her position made it difficult to move but she tried, pushing her pussy back in an effort to feel his length. He pulled back to let her know he was in control and that she wasn't to disobey. She let her body resume the position he had placed her in and silently waited. The waiting was the worst and he knew it, knew that she hated to wait for anything. How this man knew so much about her was a mystery but he knew what buttons to push.

She felt his cock head bump her slit, pushing in only slightly. His large head broached her opening and waited there, letting her adjust to his size. Suddenly he pushed in, forcing her to take all of him in one deep thrust.

Isabelle gasped into the chair, as he kept pushing forward, filling her completely and still going. She could feel the muscles in his legs flexing against the backs of her thighs as he strained to jam even more of his thick cock inside of her. His hands found her hips and pulled her back trying in vain to force her pussy to accept even more. Her pussy reacted and squeezed, almost as if she was trying to push him out but in essence wrapping herself even tighter around him.

This time it was he who gasped as he felt her pussy muscles clamp down tightly around him, providing a wet hot sheath to sink into. He began slowly, pulling his cock out to within an inch, then driving back into her in an agonizingly slow manner. His hips were pressed against her ass so tightly that Isabelle would have been surprised if anything could have gotten between them.

She jutted her ass back against him, hoping he would drive his cock back into her. He obliged her and drove into her again. His cock was slick with her pussy juices and it was much easier for him to slide even farther into her. She felt him deep in her womb and knew a satisfaction that she hadn't experienced with any other man, including her husband. He kept up his slow deep fuck of her, driving his cock into her with a ferocity that couldn't be expressed, only felt. His grip on her hips only tightened as his body drove into hers, his hands leaving only to smack her ass occasionally.

It was that exact incongruity that kept her off balance, the tenderness he exhibited versus the brutality of being taken against her will that made her pussy tighten and pull at him. She needed him. Needed the control he seemed to have over her body. The desire he had awakened in her only grew with each thrust of his large throbbing cock.

Her neck snapped back as he grabbed hold of a handful of her hair and forced her to arch her back. She knew that he needed to see her ass jutting out, her pussy lips swollen and slick and full of him. And she needed him to see her, all of her.

His thrusts grew faster, his cock sliding in and out under the tight friction. Her legs imprisoned by her panties ensured an even tighter fit. His thrusts reflected that as she felt him using all of his strength to drive into her, his balls slapping up against her ass. The pussy juices running out of her provided the soundtrack to their mating, making wet sloshing noises with every thrust.

"I want you to squirt for me Isabelle. I want your pussy to gush over my cock. And I want your pussy squeezing my cock, milking me. CUM FOR ME!" He yelled out, demanding she acquiesce to his command.

His cock seemed to grow as he pushed deeper into her. Her pussy responded to him and squeezed down, encasing him fully as her walls contracted and released around him. She was panting when another orgasm ripped through her, causing her to buck wildly and slam her hips against him over and over. He gave a loud shout, thrusting forward once more as his cock exploded, the hot gush bathing her womb. He shuddered as it was his turn to pour out inside of her.

The only sound left in the room was the sound of their breathing. Her pussy was still contracting around him and he was still hard inside her. Isabelle lay her face down on the cushion and tried to catch her breath. Her entire body felt like Jell-O, soft and squishy all over. She felt him pull out and immediately wanted him back, her insides aching at the empty spot he left behind.

His hand caressed her still jutting bottom, stroking the flesh he had only minutes ago smacked. He slipped his arms under hers and pulled her to a standing position. Pulling her back to him, he cradled her where they stood, her back to his front. His hands splayed over the front of her protectively, as if to say this is mine, do not touch. Isabelle leaned into him, feeling his arms wrapped around her and knowing that without his strength she would not be standing. He placed several kisses on her shoulder then reluctantly pulled himself away to walk her back to the bed.

He gently laid her back down and kissed her lips once more. The need she felt in that kiss had her arms snaking out to wrap around his neck and pull him closer. He indulged her and himself and let her hold him, if only for a moment. She sighed into his mouth, loving the feel of his mouth on hers.

She had to stop herself from holding on to him when he began to untangle her arms from around his neck. She wanted to cry in disappointment when she felt him move away from the bed. She knew he was going to leave and she didn't want him to. Not yet.

"I must go Isabelle. I want you to remember that you are mine. You'll always be mine, and no matter who you're with it will always be me you'll crave."

"I know." She whispered into the darkened room, wishing she could see his face just once. He had left an indelible mark on her that she wouldn't ever forget and she wanted to know what he looked like.

"Are you coming back? I mean will you come back?" She asked quickly.

"No. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was just going to have you the way I wanted you and that was it. No more, love, you'll just have to live with the memory of my skin on yours, of my cock sliding into your pussy over and over."

"And how are you going to forget about it?" She asked her voice testy from being denied.

"Who says I will?" He answered. He quickly adjusted his clothes and bent over to gather his belongings. He stopped at the end of the bed where she sat watching him in the dark. He leaned down and captured her mouth once more, letting his tongue sweep into her and taste her one last time.

"Goodbye Isabelle." He whispered.

"Goodbye." She whispered back, the tears rolling down her cheeks freely. She didn't know if she could live knowing that this man existed out there somewhere without her. Her heart was breaking and she could only hope that he would return.

"Please tell me your name." She pleaded one last time, desperate to know more about him.

"I can't Isabelle." With that he turned and walked out of the room, leaving a stunned Isabelle sitting on her bed. She crawled up the bed and laid down trying to swallow her tears.

Her hand brushed against something cold in the dark and she pulled away quickly before she realized what it was. His knife, he had left his knife in his rush to leave. She snatched it up and turned on the lamp on the bedside table to examine it. It was a well made knife, the handle was heavy and the blade balanced nicely. But what interested her most were the initials etched into it. D.S. Hmmm, so her mystery man's initials were D.S. Isabelle smiled into the dark, suddenly not so sad. She would see this man again; she would make sure of it. She had something to go on now.