Bookshelves tell a Story

He applied some lube to the buttplug, and, as she held herself that way for him, pushed it against the resisting ring of her ass, using some effort--he'd selected a size in the mid-range of her plugs, but still what he'd consider large--pushed it into her. The sound she made was glorious, the way her breath changed even more so. Inspired, he smacked his hand sharply down on her ass, a red mark blossoming on her fair skin, and said, "Good girl."

She held her pose, not shrinking away at all, moving her hips just a little. He smacked again, and she sighed. His hand went to his belt-buckle, and he undid it, pulled out his rampant cock. He moved closer to her, reached forwards and grabbed a handful of her hair in his fist, "Anything?" he asked, his voice barely under his control. "Anything," she responded, simply.

He felt such a rage of joy, almost shaking with the effort of holding back at all with her beautiful, vulnerable body on display. More blows, more smacks of his hand onto her shuddering body, slaps to each asscheek. The little noises she made were an inspiration to go harder each time. He let her feel his cock dragging against her thighs and she squirmed before she controlled herself and stayed still for him again. He reached under her, hand still in her hair, and grabbed one soft breast through the fabric of her dress, found the nipple and plucked, pulled, squeezed. She panted out a moan, and as he pulled his hand away sighed in regret but then in pleasure as his hand found her sex, cupped it, the unique feeling of wet pussylips sliding under his questing fingers.

No more delay, then: He lined his cock up with her beautiful young pussy, and pushed forwards, looking down. "I'm watching myself go in you, Evie," he said, his voice filling the room, speaking confidently, loudly. "You're bent over for me like a good little slut and your pussy is taking my cock the way it should. The way you were made for." He was moving savoringly slow, breathing in and out and letting her hear the pleasure on each exhale, and on each deliberate intake of air. Her fingers tightened on the sheets as he half-filled her, and then pulled out again, all the way, watching her pussylips slide over his cock and fall back into place as he exited her. Then he thrust back in again, a little deeper, then all the way out again. Stroke after stroke he claimed her, until he was all the way in her, shouting in triumph.

Her pussy was so silky around him, so tight, embracing his cock, holding it as if she didn't want him to ever leave her. Even without moving in her, she gave him such pleasure, an exquisite, unparalleled sensation. "God, Evie. You're so much." Words failed him, and he pulled her hair back, bent down and kissed her with his cock completely inside her, turning her head and filling her mouth with his tongue. He wrapped his hand around her throat and kept himself deep in her, bucking his hips, moving back only a fraction of an inch before pushing all the way deep again.

"Anything," she repeated again, and it was amazing to hear the word and to feel it with his fingers on her throat. He squeezed with his strong hand, felt her pulse, so alive, jumping under his fingers. For a moment he felt like he was out of his body, watching the two of them, seeing this young woman bent over, blindfolded, buttplugged, pussy filled by a man she'd revealed herself to at her own pace and in her own time. And himself, claiming, taking, confident, still clothed but cock bare and rammed inside her. His skilled fingers found her carotid, pressed on them, felt her accept that even as he started to pull back farther and crash back into her. Her body went a little limp and he eased off the pressure, and felt her recover from it, and gripped her whole throat in his hand again. She felt totally under his control, a perfect plaything.

When he was all the way inside her he could feel the base of the buttplug against him. He slowly released her throat, and moved his hand back to it. He pulled his cock half-out, and gripped the buttplug, pulling it half-out too, watching her sweet asshole distend around it, enjoying the sensation on his cock. He pushed it back in; she made a little mewling sound.

A sudden need to utterly claim her swept over him; it would involve so many things but right now, it was one thing. His hand had never left her hair, and he gripped it even tighter as he started to fuck her in long, thorough strokes, smacking her ass with his hand, "I'm going to pump my cum into you," he growled, "I'm going to fill you with it. You've aroused me so much it's not going to take long. My hard cock is going to pulse inside you and give you every last drop I have."

"Yes," she said, and no more. And it was enough. That was the beginning of his orgasm, that acceptance, that invitation. He felt it strike him deep inside, a revelation, and he let her hear all of it, the approach of it, the way the pleasure wound up from all his muscles until it concentrated in his cock inside her, almost unbearable as the sounds of the pounding he was giving her grew so loud, until finally, yet so quickly it broke over him, his voice crying out in surprise and joy and fierce and urgent pleasure. His cock jerked in her, and he leant into her, as deep as he could go as he flooded her, his balls tightening as he unloaded everything he had into her, pulling back on her hair and making her arch her back as he spent himself in her.

He leaned down in the aftermath of that and kissed her back, kissed her shoulderblades, the fabric of her dress no barrier at all to the communication of their bodies. He pulled out of her, and could tell that she was expecting it to be over, but he gave her hair a little tug and said, "There is more."

"Yes," she said again, and he smiled.

He stayed in her, echoes of pleasure, his cock still hard even after that thorough orgasm. Slowly, he withdrew from her. As his cock slipped out, a little trail of cum spilled out of her.

"You look so good with my cum in you," he said. He put one hand on her stomach--firm and soft--and pulled her back off the bed, easing her up and then turning her around, and then pushing her down to her knees. She sank readily, and her mouth curled in a smile and started to open even before he could order her to.

"Eager for it, aren't you," he said, and slid his cock, wet from their joining, against her face before pushing it between her red lips. She accepted it, welcomed it, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked the fat head of his cock. He pulled on her hair, and she slowly enveloped more and more of his cock. He was half-hard now, and she bobbed her head, taking him all in, tongue playing on the underside of his shaft.

More inspiration; with no warning, he slapped his free hand against her cheek, a sharp sound contrasting with the wet noises she was making with her sweet mouth. She gave a cry of surprise but instantly pushed her face further down on his cock. He slapped again, amazed at himself--he'd never done this before, but it seemed so right, so perfect with her. "Suck me hard again," he ordered. And she put her fine hands on his thighs and worked her mouth back and forth along his shaft until it was completely rigid again, a testament to her skill, his desire.

He pulled it from her mouth, a strand of saliva connecting them for a moment. "Stand, and take your dress off," he said, urging her to her feet with that ever-present hand in her hair," she stood, and slowly caught the bottom of the dress, playing with it between her fingers, swaying her hips, coy even with his cum dripping down her thigh. He released his grip on her hair, and she pulled the dress free.

He spent a long moment looking, and then reached up, grasping both nipples between fingers and thumb, squeezing hard, harder, looking into her face, amazed when every aspect of her body and being showed that she wanted him to keep going. She gave another little cry of pleasure, and he loosened the grip just a little but tugged on her nipples, making her pert breasts stand out from her body. He let them fall, and then covered her breasts in his hands, squeezing hard, leaning forward to kiss her again, thrusting his tongue in her mouth, bending her backwards.

He walked her back to the bed and pushed her over onto it again, on her back, taking her thighs in his hands and spreading them, pushing them back and tilting her pelvis up, then reaching under and slowly tugging the buttplug out of her, immediately pushing the head of his cock against her ass. Taking up the lube again, drizzling it on his cock as she lay before him like an offering. He let go of one thigh, and put his palm flat on her stomach as he entered her, as his thick cock spread her asshole even wider than the toy had. She writhed at that, and he gave her a moment to get used to it, running his hand up her stomach to her breast, plucking her nipples again, then slapping one breast, then the other.

She arched her back, rolled her still-blindfolded head. He sank his shaft deeper, feeling her grip him, the dark heat of her ass surrounding his cock. "You were made for this," he growled, and began to truly assfuck her, sliding in and out, slow at first but with force, with dominance. One hand pushed her thigh back, the other toyed with her body, slapping her breasts, gripping her waist, sliding his fingers into her mouth where she instinctively sucked on them. As he looked down at her, at his cock in her ass, he saw her pussy open, his cum still decorating it, pearls.

"Your pussy, your mouth, now your ass," he said, "You're mine. My fucktoy. You've practiced with your toys and prepared yourself well for me. Good girl." She was making sweet noises around his fingers, and he felt another orgasm approaching, a deeper one. It took a long time to arrive, a long, delicious time as her body shuddered and his breath came quick, her perfect body under him and her ass welcoming him, until finally he shouted and bent down to bite her breast as he poured cum into her for a second time, throbbing inside her, giving it all to her again. Her legs went wide, her hands on his arm, her mouth opening in joy.

After, he shed his clothing, crawled up on the bed with her. He kissed her and held her, the blindfold still on. She shook in his arms, but there was nothing of fear or uncertainty in it, just intensity, fading now. Finally, he slipped the blindfold up to see her eyes again, the whole of her, and she smiled at him and tangled her hands in his hair again. "Anything."