tagBDSMWhiskey and Rye Ch. 06

Whiskey and Rye Ch. 06

bysmall_town_girl©

Author's note:

Hi y'all! Thank you so much for coming back to W&R!

Yes, this chapter took longer to write, but I hope you'll find the result was worth the wait...

If you're new to this series – welcome aboard! There's tons of good stuff in this chapter for you even if you haven't read the whole story, and I hope once you taste it you'd feel an urgent need to go back and read the whole thing in order, starting at Lucky Bastard 01-09 and then moving on to Whiskey and Rye... Enjoy!

xoxo,

small_town_girl

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's Sunday morning and the soft-grey light filtering in through the windows lets me know it's still super-early. I turn my head to watch Rye sleeping beside me. He's flat on his back, one hand thrown above his head while the other rests on his naked belly and his face is calm, its features gentled and its lines smoothed out with only the deeper ones at the corners of his eyes and on his forehead showing. His chest rises and falls with his steady breaths. A real-life Sleeping Beauty I think to myself, and a wave of emotion almost knocks me over. We've barely spent a day together, and already I know this is it.

If I kiss him awake now, will he be mine to live together happily ever after?

An internal debate ensues in my mind. I'm not sure how much of a morning person Rye is and I don't want to kill his opportunity to sleep in on a Sunday. But at the same time my eyes wander down his relaxed form and stumble upon an obvious bulge under the covers.

Well, at least part of him is fully awake. I think this settles it.

Smiling to myself I get up on all fours and crawl down the mattress careful not to disturb him. Quietly as I can I raise the covers to duck under them and settle myself between his slightly-parted legs, pushing them very slowly and gently outwards until I am comfortably kneeling in between. Rye doesn't stir and is still breathing as slowly and deeply as before.

I take a moment to admire the magnificent view before me. God, but his cock is the most beautiful I've ever seen. It's large and heavily veined and stands upright as golden-brown as the rest of him, with a thick, velvety, dark-pink head that looks perfect for licking and kissing and has a small slit at the very tip. His sac is proportionately large and heavy resting against his perineum. His pubic hair is dark brown stringed with silver and it's curly and kind of short, and I wonder if he's trimmed it.

Bending down I wrap his shaft in my warm hands and start to gently lick the crest, making sure to use lots of saliva to glide my lips and tongue smoothly on his sensitive gland. As soon as I do there's a tiny movement in his hips pressing up and into my hands, and as I continue my ministrations his breathing gradually changes and becomes a little quicker and a little shallower, but still he seems to be asleep.

Rye tastes and smells wonderful. I lose myself in the pleasure of him under my lips, on my tongue, in my mouth, in my hands. Gosh, it's been fucking two years since I had a cock in my mouth... I forgot just how good it was! I feel myself getting excited, my pussy warming and lubricating as I start slowly bobbing up and down, using both my hands and my mouth to cover all of his shaft, tightening my grip and my suction as I do.

I am rewarded with an obvious stirring and a sleepy groan from Rye – "Oh yeah... that feels soooo good!" and he's shifting around a bit before his hips start rocking, fucking upwards into my mouth in time with my down strokes, making me go a little deeper and a little fuller on every return. In another moment his hands come down to lightly stroke my hair away from my face and then his fingers twist in it to hold it in a makeshift ponytail atop my crown and tighten further to gain more control over my movements.

I look up to see Rye had propped another pillow behind his back so his torso is now angled upwards, making it easier for him to watch me servicing him, and giving him leverage while gripping my head and guiding me, setting up the rhythm and depth to his liking. The deeper I go the less use I have for my hands, so I shift my knees back and put my hands on the mattress next to his hips to get on all fours. Now our only points of contact are his cock thrusting in and out of my mouth, and his fingers twisted in my hair.

In my bent-down position my ass is sticking out and my back is arched and my breasts are swaying under me and I look into his eyes while I suck, putting my body on full display to add to his enjoyment. I think about how slutty I look right now, on my hands and knees, completely naked except for my thigh-highs which were left on the night before, giving head while being controlled by the hair by my reclining Dom. The thought makes me hotter, hornier, hungrier.

Rye clearly appreciates the view. "God angel you're so fucking beautiful... watching my dick stretch your lips and stuff your mouth is so damn hot... arrggghhh!" He throws his head back, his neck straining and his fingers tightening even more in my hair, holding me in place and fucking upwards in rough, quick, jerky movements. By now he's not pulling out at all in between strokes and I can't really swallow so my saliva pools and then drips down his shaft, aiding him in his quest as he fucks my face ever faster, bumping the back of my mouth over and over, making those lewd squelchy sounds that I love so much.

Relaxing into his grip and letting my head hang by my hair I open my jaw wide and welcome his rock-hard cock stabbing into me. His cock plunges deeper and deeper into the soft wet recess of my mouth and into my throat, blocking my breath momentarily at the top of each thrust. I feel myself swing back and forth on every drive and my whole body softens and yields to the movement. It's like I'm a life-sized sex marionette and Rye is my masterful puppeteer, guiding me by the strings of my hair to perform for him at his will. I moan my rising need around his cock and he answers with his own groans of pleasure as his dick swells and throbs on my tongue, turning me on even higher.

Within moments he growls again, sounding wide-awake now – "Oh yeah, here it is, fuck yeah! Take it all angel... FUCK!" – and my heart rate doubles with my own excitement as I feel the first hot spurts of his cum erupt to fill my mouth, salty and creamy and delicious. Yummm... I missed that too!

I do my best to swallow each warm jet before the next one follows, though some escapes my lips and trickles down his shaft to pool at the base of his cock. After several more twitches he's truly finished and his fingers relax in my hair, which allows me to bend lower and lick all along his length and down around his nuts, scooping every last drop of him into my mouth.

I look up again into his now-glazed eyes as I lap him up, feeling his cock relax under my tongue, though surprisingly he doesn't soften completely. Mischievously I open wide and take all of him fully and deep into my mouth again, and very slowly withdraw, gently sucking all the way out... I am delighted to feel him twitching in my mouth and feel my pussy squeeze in answering need, but then Rye hisses in sharply and folds over to grab me under my arms and pull me up to lie on top of him so that his cock is safely nestled between our bellies and my breasts are mashed to his chest.

"I think you've had enough fun and games for now, angel... come here." He holds my face in his hands, his thumb caressing my darkened-pink, sensitized lips back and forth. "You have such a pretty little mouth angel... all pink and soft and wet and it fits so perfectly when it's stretched out tight around my dick." His thumb keeps caressing my lips and it feels as if they are hotwired to their nether twins, each caress on my mouth sending a heated stroke running along my creamy pussy.

"Waking me up like this is by far the best way I can think of angel... I could get used to that." His words are playful, but his tone is serious. I smile wide and lick my lips in an obvious, purposeful gesture before biting on the lower one, then bend to whisper in his ear:

"I so very much hope that you do, sir."

His arms tighten around me and in the next moment he rolls over to trap me under him. My anticipation rises when he rubs his semi-erect cock into my tummy and bends down to take a nipple into his mouth and suck gently, creating a delicious sensation that cascades from my puckering peak down along my spine to my core. But then he raises his head to look my in the eye and says:

"Well now that you've had your wicked way with me I think it's about time we got up and started our day, no?"

I pout exaggeratedly. "I was kind of hoping you would have your wicked way with me first, sir...?"

He chuckles and slides down my body and pushes my stocking-clad thighs out and bends down to take several long, slow strokes of his tongue between my honeyed folds, tasting my need. He then gives my clit a few quick little licks before taking it fully into his mouth for a sweet, sweet suck.... And in the next moment he releases my flesh and rolls away, getting up to a stand with his hands on his hips. Immediately I recognize his posture as his 'coach stance' from all those years ago, though I'm very sure the look he's giving me as he stares down at my naked body splayed so wantonly before him is light-years away than any he'd ever given a gymnast.

"Oh I have quite the wicked plans for us today angel, and it ticks me just the right way to know you'd be a little desperate by the time we start... it would make playing with you that much more fun!"

With that he turns and starts down the stairs, throwing behind his shoulder: "I'm going to shower and then go out to get us some breakfast while you have your turn in the bathroom. You may play with yourself all you want baby... but don't even think about cumming. There would be dire consequences if you do. I'll see you in a few."

It's my turn to moan and whimper now in frustration and I hear him chuckling all the way into the bathroom. Bastard! He's enjoying this... but then so am I.

I need some distraction and it is with significant effort that I refrain from reaching down to touch myself; instead I seize this opportunity of having a few private moments and focus inwardly, taking inventory of the way my body feels after our intense session last night.

My feet are perfect – no aches or pains or bruising whatsoever. Rye knew what he was talking about when he said that while the swats from his crop would hurt like hell they wouldn't cause any damage. Recalling the way he took care of me last night - before and during and after my punishment - brings a smile to my face. My inner thighs and the backs of my legs are a little sore from being stretched out so wide and so long, but nothing I haven't felt after a good flexibility workout.

Pretty much all of my muscles – my trapezes, deltoids, triceps, erectors, pecs, abs, gluts, quads, hams, calves – all feel as achy as if I've gone through a high-intensity all-around weights routine, which isn't at all a bad feeling. The only part of my anatomy that is definitely more over-used than usual is my vagina which sends out faint, dull throbs at odd moments, not surprising considering the kind of rough, demanding fucking it took yesterday after almost two years of celibacy. But even that feels really, really good.

I feel more alive than I have in... Fuck. Years. If not ever.

Feeling energized I get up and start my way down the stairs, completely nude except for my thigh-highs. Hmmm, I seem to be developing a habit. Just as I clear the bottom stair the bathroom door opens and Rye emerges, steam rising from his damp skin, naked except for a narrow towel tied to his hips.

He opens his arms in invitation and I cross the living area directly into them, not stopping until our bodies are flush against each other and the moist heat of his skin is soaking into mine. I bury my nose in the little dip at the bottom of his sternum drinking in his clean male scent and his arms wrap around me, tucking me under his chin and we simply hug, not moving for long, sweet moments.

I could stay here forever.

Eventually we both withdraw enough to look into each other's eyes. Rye smiles faintly at me as if trying to lighten the sentimental mood that washed over us both.

"Go on angel. Take your time, the water's great. And make sure you're clean and ready everywhere for me – I'm keeping all options on the table today" He says that with a bad-boy grin, and I know what he means – and am grateful that he remembered my request for a heads-up before any anal play. I smile back at him, and in response he drops a kiss onto my hair and releases me, moving aside so that I can step into the bathroom. Feeling ridiculously bereft now that his embrace is gone from around me, I drop a kiss onto his arm as I pass him on my way as if to make a point, and am rewarded with a soft caress of a spank on my tush.

"No pouting angel. Follow instructions."

Perversely I turn on my heels and give him a mock salute with a loud "Yes, sir! No pouting, sir!" and turn back to walk into the shower, this time earning myself an honest-to-goodness, smarting, open-palm smack on my ass. With a yelp and a satisfied giggle I shut Rye's growled exasperation behind the small door.

I start with using the toilet and am thankful to realize that the excited nervousness that had settled in my stomach from his 'all options on the table' remark expedites the natural process... Within moments my bowels feel blessedly empty. Next I reach under the shower head to turn the water on high and shed my nylons, then step gratefully into the heavenly spray. At first I simply stand there for a couple of minutes soaking up their heat, breathing deeply, letting the water caress and sooth and drain the clinging achiness from my body. Then I reach for the fresh washcloth and shower gel and start lathering up.

I reach down out of habit to slide my fingers over the trimmed tuft of soft pubic hair covering my Venus hill and then further down to idly caress my shaved labia where I feel the beginning of stubble. Oh no, Naomi my girl. That won't do at all. I reach out and grab my own razor and Rye's shaving gel – feeling deliciously naughty about that – and go to work making myself all smooth again.

When I'm all done I can't help but indulge in a few leisurely strokes of my fingers along the petal-soft exposed skin... oh my lord but it feels so good! If only I could go down on myself, just once, I just know it would be so much fun! The ridiculous thought makes me giggle like a schoolgirl, but following it immediately is the mental image of Rye enjoying my slick nakedness with his fingers and tongue... and that makes me all moist and mushy inside. I almost succumb to the urge to seriously play with myself but I manage to talk myself out of it, knowing a release would be a while away.

Instead I take another dollop of the shower gel and rub it on two fingers and start to soap all around my backdoor. I take in a deep breath and slowly release it, at the same time willing myself to relax, and very gently slide a slim, soapy digit inside as far as it can go to cleanse there as well. It's actually easier than I expected it to be given how long it's been since I'd engaged in any anal play; while I enjoyed it with my ex-husband I've never felt inclined to do it solo... The sensation is at the same time foreign and familiar and mildly pleasurable and I continue to slowly penetrate myself with my finger, in and out and all around in circles, then slowly pull all the way out.

Next I crouch down and take the shower head in my hand and set it to a tight, focused jet that, when pointed just so, gurgles inside of me - I'll never get used to the weirdness of that! - and washes the soap away leaving a fresh, tingling sensation behind. I finish the process with another brisk rub of the fragrant soap all over and into my fingers to make sure they too are squeaky clean... and I'm done. I'm ready. I am ready for Rye to fuck me in the ass. FUCK! The thought sends a hot jolt of excitement straight down to my clit. I can't wait!

I stop the water and dry myself slowly as I work on regulating my breathing, letting myself enjoy the lovely sensation of soft cotton on skin without fear of getting carried away. Then after brushing my teeth and towel-drying and fixing my hair as best as I can without a blow-dryer I step out of the bathroom to get dressed. Rye is nowhere to be seen and I guess he's already gone out to get us breakfast. I don't know what he has planned for us today, so for the time being I opt for a casual skirt and top outfit plus my white cardigan to ward off the morning chill.

Fully dressed, I walk over to the kitchenette and spend a few minutes getting acquainted with the whereabouts of all the essentials and then set the coffee to brew. With nothing to do except wait for Rye to return I cannot resist taking a closer look around hoping to learn some more about the man I have already offered my submission to.

Immediately I am drawn to the living room and the mantle above the fireplace, where three small, framed photographs are displayed. Stepping closer to examine them I see the first picture is quite old, showing a much younger, laughing Rye sitting down on a couch holding a tiny baby in his arms, and a toddler in the process of climbing up to sit on his broad shoulders. He looks every inch the proud papa, his eyes broadcasting his devotion to his young children.

The second picture is phenomenal – probably taken from a distance using a powerful close-up lens – showing the kids as jersey-clad pre-teens hugging each other on the soccer field, the younger one raising his fisted arm high above his head in the universal symbol of "Yes! I did it!". The third picture is clearly more recent, focused on the smiling faces of Rye, Yan and the two boys – almost young men, really – as they huddle together for the shot with some blossoming shrubs behind them. I bet this was taken at Yan's roof-top garden.

I feel my heart twinge with the old, familiar ache, and at the same time I am immensely comforted by these photos. Rye has kids already. This won't be an issue for him. I take a closer look at the newest picture, trying to gauge his relationship with his kids from the way they are bunched close together. I wonder if they are really this close. I wonder how they'd feel about me...

Don't get ahead of yourself Naomi.

I turn my back sharply on the pictures and look around in near-desperation, frantic to find something else to look at, to focus on. The apartment is tiny and I've basically seen it all except for the little work space tucked under the loft. I let my legs carry me over there, my eyes staring un-focused at the wall in front of me...

And then I see it.

Oh my God.

The wall is bare except for the timber beams supporting the loft. One thick beam runs along the back length of the raised platform where it is tethered to the wall, and two more make the legs of the structure supporting most of its weight at the two far corners. But then there are two other beams serving to further strengthen the structure... and they create a perfect St. Andrew's cross.

As if in a dream I move closer and then closer still, until I am only inches away from the wall-mounted device. I let my fingers glide over the smooth, dark wood, following its flow upwards to the very top, where wrought iron braces hug each thick plank, a single hinged iron hook folded flat in the middle of each brace. Immediately my eyes drop down to check the bottom ends and spot the same brace-and-hinged-hook hardware there as well.

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