Puppet Ch. 01

"Morning," she said dreamily and closed her eyes again as she exhaled deeply.

"Morning, baby," he said and bent down to kiss the corner of her lips.

She sighed and reached back to caress his hip and thigh. He started moving inside of her again, her cunt now slippery from her orgasm. She slid her hand up his side and behind his head to curl her fist into his hair.

"Mmmm," she moaned, her voice still groggy from sleep. "That feels good."

He leaned down towards her and she twisted her head to meet him in a kiss, her lips soft and giving. His tongue probed her mouth, her tongue meeting his. He pulled out of her as he moved his body over her, their mouths still locked together. She fell onto her back and he maneuvered between her legs, spread wide around him, her knees pointed to the sides, their tongues caressing, and he pushed back inside of her, his desire becoming more urgent. She broke the kiss with a soft groan, tilting her head back into the pillow, as he slid into her deeply.

He pressed his hands into the air mattress and bowed his back to look down at her as he thrust in and out of her in long strokes, her eyes gazing up at him, her eyelids fluttering opened and closed, her lips parted, her golden hair splayed out on the pillow around her. He stared down at her, lost in her beauty, feeling his love for her grow as his cock grew inside of her, almost overwhelming him with emotion that he felt he could cry, his beautiful angel below him, her hands resting lightly on his hips, her legs curled up on either side of him, offering herself to him, taking him in, so sweet and loving.

He dropped down on top of her and she wrapped her arms around his back as he thrust harder and faster, feeling the whole length of his cock moving inside of her, and she folded her legs around his pelvis, locking her ankles behind him, pulling him down into her.

"Oh, my love, that feels so good," she moaned. "Please make me come again."

"I love you, Valerie," he whispered into her ear.

"I love you too, my love," she whispered, breaking into a loud grunt as he slammed into her harder.

He dug his knees into the mattress and drove his cock down and into her, feeling her body soft and giving beneath him, her cunt tightening around him as he moved faster, twisting up inside of her, and then in a rush, spilling his semen into her, groaning against the side of her neck as she squealed loudly. He worked his cock in and out of her slowly, letting his cock empty into her as her body twitched in pleasure.

"Oh God," she whispered. "That was wonderful. I love you so much."

He pressed his face against her neck, feeling a single tear drip from his tightly shut eyes, wishing it were true, wishing she meant it, and it wasn't just her programming.

She dropped her legs to the mattress and slid her hands up and down his back, caressing him softly. He lifted his head to look down at her, her eyes now wide awake, alive, the blue sparkling brilliantly. She tilted her head and smiled at him. He dipped down and kissed her. Her lips parted, kissing him deeply. He wanted to melt into that kiss, melt inside of her, never leave her. She broke the kiss and pulled away from him.

"Only five minutes left, sir," she said, her voice sounding coolly mechanized.

Taylor knew it was the program, not her, but it hurt the same. He slowly slid out of her, pulling back until his cock fell out, and suddenly felt cold and vulnerable. He carefully moved away from her, forcing himself to not look at her, afraid of getting lost in those eyes, and sat on the side of the bed to get dressed.

"I had a wonderful time, my love," she said, sliding towards him. "Did you?"

"Yes," he said and swallowed hard, forcing his emotions back down. The sorrow and anger tried to press down at him, making his chest tight and his shoulders hunch over. He didn't want to leave. He was tired of leaving, always leaving her here, leaving her for the next guy who could do any of a million unspeakable things to her.

"Good. I am happy that I please you," she said, her voice light and airy, sounding like the girl he used to know.

He felt her nails slide down his back, making him shiver. He stood up quickly, trying to shut her out, get dressed and get out before he did something stupid. This was not the time to do something wrong. If he did, then he could lose her forever.

He heard the covers rustling as she moved in the bed. He tried to not picture her lying there, watching him dress, those eyes gazing at him. He hurriedly finished putting on his clothes, leaving his tie loose about his neck, his coat draped across his arm, and he picked up his briefcase to leave.

"Goodbye, my love," she said softly as the door opened automatically.

He stepped through the opening, telling himself not to turn around, don't look back at her. But he did and saw her sitting on the bed, her legs curled under her, her back to him, her head tilted, looking down, her hair covering the side of her face, the picture of lovely solitude. Then, he saw the marks, long red welts, at least half a dozen, across her back, and he started towards her, anger rising quickly, wanting to know who hit her, who burned her, but the door closed in his face, and he could only slam his fists against it, hopelessly.