tagBDSMFriday Night

Friday Night


We had both had long, tiring weeks, so when Friday finally rolled around, and we met on the path leading up to the house, we could both hear the sofa calling our names. Not even bothering to lose more than our coats we sink back into sofa, tandem sighs at a week finally over fill the room. You raise your arm and let me curl up against you, my head tucked up against your chest, my arm wrapped across your body. Your arm drapes around my shoulders, tracing up and down my spine, feeling the tension of the day begin to ease. I take a deep relaxing breath, feeling your chest rise and fall same way. I know exactly what I want from this evening. So as my fingers begin to slip between the buttons of your shirt, finger tips tracing skin, my mind begins to imagine us upstairs in bed. Having lost our suits and crawled under the covers, skin to skin, your body molds itself around mine so that your hands can alternate between my breasts and clit, whilst your hips rock leisurely against me, and so when we both cum, with you buried to the hilt inside me, we needn't move to fall asleep.

I am shaken from my thoughts though as you bend forward, leaning across to scoop up the TV remote. At a flick of your thumb the TV clicks to life and you quickly bring up the sports channel, the screen announcing the start of the game in just a few minutes. There is no way you don't hear the slight huff I produce, as I withdraw my hand, and turn to sit forward, my body no longer pressed up against you, though your arm still drapes across my shoulders. The first few minutes are fairly uneventful and I can feel you getting bored. As it nears half time and the opposing team put the ball across the line for the second time in quick succession you shift in your seat. Your hand around my shoulder reaching down to cup my breast, whilst the other reaches across and begins to play with the hem of my skirt. Unimpressed at having been ignored until the rugby had failed to entertain I slide my body across the sofa away from you. Your hand on my skirt tries to use the movement to dip underneath the material and slide up my skin. I only scoot further away, laying on my side against the arm of the sofa, my legs tucking up underneath me. I know my moves will not have pleased you, but I was tired, and when I'd sought your attention I had been brushed off, I wasn't going to play your game.

The whistle blasts for half time, and whilst the players leave the pitch and adverts flash across the screen you mute the TV. I feel you shift in your seat, leaning over towards me. Your hand runs over my ass, my hips and up my back to rest at the back of my neck.

"Why don't you go and get out of those clothes, then fix me a drink?" You say. Though it is clearly more an instruction than a request. I huff in response, curling into a tighter ball and burying my head deeper into the cushion. An obvious sign of defiance. The hand that had been resting gently on the back of my neck moves again, your fingers carding up through my hair. Once you have a good handful of my hair, your fingers curl into a fist, and you gently pull my head up. Leaning down until your mouth is level with my ear, you whisper "Now." Your tone is low and deadly and sends shivers shooting through my whole body.

I lay stock still, not moving a muscle. Your hand begins to tighten in my hair. Only fractionally, but enough that I know you mean business.

"Yes Sir," I mumble into the cushion. You usually hate it when I mumble, but you appear to let me get away with it on this occasion. You hand releases and we move in tandem, you returning to your seat, whilst I go to stand.

"Actually," Your voice cuts through the mounting tension in the room. "I have changed my mind." Perhaps my mumbling will not remain unpunished. "Down to your knickers, the heels remain."

I know better than to fail to comply a second time, and shedding today's clothes is too tempting to ignore. I pull my shirt from the waist of my skirt, and button by button I shed the soft cotton. My skirt goes next. The sound of the zip short and sharp, followed my the soft whoosh as the material is pushed down over my hips to pool on the floor. I step out of it, using my foot to flick the offending item over to the side. I feel your eyes rake up and down me.

Starting at the top, my long dark hair hanging in loose waves around my shoulders, down across my breasts, which are held snug in a lace bra. Below the rounds of my breasts, my waist sits high and narrow, before my body curves out again around my hips, your gaze crosses the matching lace that sits low on my hips. Next you let your eyes fall down my legs, stopping only when they reach the narrowest part of my ankles, and lastly the patent navy heels that encase my feet.

I reach up, sliding the straps of my bras from my shoulders, before reaching round and undoing the clasp. I let the fabric fall down my arms, and add it to the pile of my clothes. I take a step towards you. Now clad only in small, lacey briefs that match the blue of my eyes and my heels.

"Turn." One word. Simple instruction.

I turn on the spot, allowing your inspection to continue. I can practically feel your eyes running up the back of my legs, stopping to inspect the way the blue lace runs the shape of my ass, the cheeks full and pink, the faintest outline of your handprint peaking out from beneath my knickers. Your eyes travel back over my waist, to the loose curls of hair that tumble down my back.

"Look at me." Your voice is soft, but it is as though you are speaking directly into my ear. I move in place again to face you. My hands hang loosely at my sides, though my fingers fidget, curling and straightening with untapped energy. Though I face you, my eyes are dipped in respect. "Turn again." Once more I turn in my place. "Now slowly bend and remove your knickers. Keep your legs straight."

Your instructions are simple enough, but I know the reason for them, for as I hook my thumbs into the waistband and begin to bend at the hip two things happen. Firstly it pushes my ass back towards you, allowing you a full view of my curves that sit atop my legs, which stretch out straight beneath me. Secondly, you get an unadulterated view of my most intimate parts as they are unveiled from beneath the deep blue fabric. I push the knickers down over my thighs and let them fall to the floor, before reaching and taking them in my hand.

"Pass them to me." I turn again to face you, now entirely naked but for the leather encasing my feet, and offer my knickers to you. I had hoped you wouldn't feel how I had already begun to moisten them, but as you clench them in your fist I know there is no way you won't have felt it.

"Now I'll let you decide." I straighten my back slightly, readying myself for your next words. "You can go get me that drink or you can kneel at my feet."

I shift my weight from foot to foot for a moment as I consider your words. I could go and get you that drink, but once return there is the possibility that that is where my night would end. My punishment for my earlier defiance. But if I came and presented myself to you, the night held infinite possibilities. My body flooded with heat at that thought, and I take my bottom lip between my teeth, decision made I take the few steps towards you. Moving to my knees between your legs in one smooth motion.

You smile at my choice, your hand reaching out to stroke my hair. My head leans into your touch. You move your hand, stroking my cheek and a ghost of a smile crosses my face at your touch. You use your hand to guide my head to your inner thigh, continuing to stroke my cheek, your thumb brushing over my lips.

"Are you comfortable little one?" You look down at me nestled between your legs. I look up at you, my eyes filled with wonder and lust.

"Yes Sir," I say. Letting my eyes find yours.

You withdraw your hand before, your voice soft and tone calm, you issue your instruction. "Touch yourself for me." You say. "Keep looking into my eyes and pleasure yourself."

I feel a wave of heat travel through me. After all this time I still can't help the small twinge of embarrassment at performing for you. For you to see how desperate I am for your touch, for you to see how needy my pussy is, and how willing I am to do anything under your instruction for your pleasure.

I reach my hand down between my legs and gasp at how wet I find myself as I slide my fingers between my folds.

"Good girl." I hear for the first time that evening. A small smirk on your face as you watch my eyes roll back slightly.

I begin pressing circles across my clit with my thumb. My breath catching at the new sensation, my body hungry for me. A gentle stroke of your hand through my hair encourages me to keep going. My hips buck as I slide two fingers inside me, curling them and pressing at the sensitive spot there.

"That's it. Show me how naughty you are." You words encouraging me to keep going. My mind flooded with a desire to show you everything of me that you desire.

"Faster." You guide me. My second hand joins in.

"Tell me how it feels."

"So good Sir. Thank you Sir." My voice is breathy with pleasure. You raise your eyebrow in request for me.

"S-so wet Sir. So tight."

"Faster." You prompt me again.

The room fills with the sounds of how wet performing for you has made me, as I struggle to keep my eyes steady enough to be locked on yours.

"I want you to be my naughty little slut, on your knees at my feet." I gasp at your words. So rarely do you call me your slut. I let the words wash over me, the sound of it setting my body on fire, as I begin to tremble with the tension and pleasure running through me.

"Are you close to cumming?" The casual tone of your voice in contradiction to the question.

"Mmm so close Sir." My palm pressing against my clit, my hips bucking against my touch.

"OK. Stop."

My face is awash with anguish, "Please Sir, no."

"Stop. Immediately." If my body hadn't been so turned on, I would have recognised that tone as one that is dangerous to ignore. My hands stop as I decipher your instruction. I hear 'knees' and so place my hands on my knees.

"My knees." I hear your voice again but my mind is still lost in how close I was to my release.

My cheeks flushed pink, my eyes glazed, I spread my hands flat on my knees.

"MY knees. I won't tell you again." Your voice is hard and deadly, and cuts through the fog in my mind. I rush to correct my position. Horror at having gotten something so simple wrong plays across my face.

"That's better." You give the slightest of approving nods. "Now count to 100. Out loud."

I take a deep breath and begin. "1...2...3," My voice getting steadier with each count, but the heat between my legs not lessening. "10...15...20." I raise my eyes back to meet yours. Your voice cuts across my counting.

"When you get to 100, you may touch yourself again."

The desire to speed up my counting is overwhelming. But I had learnt that lesson before, when a hurried count to 100 had been met with the instruction to begin it all again.

"30...40...50." I focus on every number, making sure my voice is clear and steady for every one. "60." Your hand strokes my cheek. "70." My eyes alight as the numbers climb higher. "80." You feel my fingers curl slightly against your thighs as I struggle to keep a steady measure. "90...96...99...100." No sooner had I begin the final number you signal for me to resume my earlier actions.

"Good girl. Now you may touch yourself." My hands moves quickly they are almost blurs. One hand goes straight to my clit, whilst I waste no time curling two fingers of the other up inside me. I let out the longest, deepest sigh as I am finally able to touch the parts that were begging for it. So lost in my relief I almost miss the "Good girl" you offer me. A smile at my actions barely contained in your voice.

It doesn't take long for me to be right at the edge again. My breath speeding up, a fresh flush of pink spreading across my chest and cheeks, my fingers becoming soaked.

"Are you enjoying performing for me?"

My eyes beginning to roll again. "Yes Sir."

You lean forward and reach your hand down, taking one of my rock hard nipples between your thumb and forefinger. You squeeze, twisting the raised nub and pulling it away from my body. My back arches, chest pushing into your touch in response.

"That's it." You coo, watching goosebumps race across my skin.

"Ah -," not a real word. More a sound made in response to the added sensations coursing through me.

You smirk down at me. "Close?" an eyebrow raised in question.

"Yes Sir." I nod as though the action would give greater weight to my words. I could feel a pressure coiling in my core, like a spring ready to release. I see a decision flash across your face.

"Count to 30. Out loud." My eyes clear as I am given a fresh instruction. "Rub faster." You add.

At this my breath catches in my chest, my hips bucking against my hand instinctively. I was going to get my release.

"1...2...3." I begin to count. My voice thready and breathy as my hand moves quickly across my clit. "10...11...12." My words strained.

"Louder." You growl.

I try and take a deep breath. Drawing air deep into my chest. "13." My voice is firmer.

"That's it. Good girl."

"14...15...16." My head starts to fall back.

"Look at me."

"17...18...19." I bring my face back to yours.

"20...21...mmm." Pleasure is flooding my mind. My body begins to tremble as I get closer and closer to tumbling over the edge. "27...28...29..."

"Now stop." Your voice sharp, cuts through the air. My eyes turn the size of saucers. "Hands on my knees."

"N-n-nn..." I shake my head in disbelief.

"Now." I let out a pining moan, my eyes filling with wetness for the release I have just lost.

"Are you desperate?" You ask with a glint in your eye. You have no doubt of the answer.

"Yes Sir. God yes." I exclaim.

"How do you feel?" You prompt.

"I need to touch." Are the first words my clouded mind can form. "Please. I can't think Sir." How am I supposed to put these feelings into words. The hunger, the desperation, the fire coursing through my veins.

"Take out my cock," your only repsonse.

My shaking hands reach out, fumbling with your belt and zip. My eyes are totally transfixed by the sight of you springing free from the confines of your trousers.

"Focus. Breathe." I jump at your words. They catch me unawares until I stop and realise I had been holding my breath. I release it, and take in a new, slow breath.

"Good girl." I let my body relax slightly. Taking control of the anticipation running through my body, I focus. You watch the change play out, from trembling desperation to focused intent. "Now stand. In front of me." I take to my feet and assume the position. "Good girl. Now keep your legs straight. Bend at the waist. And take my cock into your mouth."

I comply immediately. Leaning forward at the hip, my mouth coming open, tongue out. My lips wrap around you, and I slowly lower my mouth down your hard length. I do not halt my actions as you raise your hips to meet me, pressing your head along the roof of my mouth. You push yourself against the back of my throat.

"Look at me." I raise my eyes to meet yours. "Listen carefully." You pause, ensuring you have my full attention. "Your are mine." My eyes are locked on yours. I let your words wash over me. "Nod if you're giving yourself to me."

Without hesitation I nod.

"Good girl. Now take me out of your mouth." My cheeks hollow as I suck my way to the tip of your cock, letting you fall past my lips with a pop.

Your hand reaches forward, and you wrap your fingers around my throat gently, no pressure. You feel me swallow under your hand.


I nod again. "Yours." My voice is soft, but you feel the vibrations through the palm of your hand.

"Good girl. Come here." You use the hand around my throat to draw me another step forward. "Straddle me. Sit on my cock and use me for your pleasure. You have earnt it."

I move forward, placing me knees on the sofa on either side of your thighs. I hold you steady, lining you up with my entrance. You can feel the heat radiating from my core. I look straight into your eyes, and in one move, lower myself onto you fully.

"Good girl." The pleasured relief in your voice mirrors that which floods through my body. I feel myself stretch around you, your size filling me completely. My body pulses around you as it attempts to accommodate your hard length. I place my hands on your shoulders and begin to ride you.

"Use me." Your mouth close to my ear.

My fingers dig into your shoulders as my hips begin to rock. There is no doubt I will have left nail marks on your skin, even through your shirt as I grip you tightly. My hips run a figure of 8. Again and again. Your cock reaching the most sensitive parts of me. My head falls back as far as your hand will allow as your cock brings me closer and closer to the edge.

You give a soft chuckle. "You're a desperate one, aren't you?" I offer a heady moan in response. "Show me that you're my desperate little slut." Slut. A word that cuts to my core, that I hear so rarely pass your lips. My pussy twitches around you in response. I raise my body up again, before slamming down onto you. My hot, wet entrance tight around you, coating you in my juices, until they are running down your length and across your balls. With every move you hit the deepest part of me.

"Yes. Good girl." You encourage, as waves of pleasure begin to course through you. Your fingers tighten around my throat in response. "You love my big cock, don't you?" You lean into my ear. At your words my body seems to curl in on itself, and I bury my head into the crook of your neck as your cock is buried to my deepest point once more.

"Mmm yes Sir, I do. I love it."

"Why do you love it?" As my clit rubs against you again I wonder how you can be expecting me to offer you any real response.

"I love how wet it makes me. I love how it stretches and fills me, but," I have to stop to take a gasping breath. "I love it most of all because it is your cock.

"And what are you?" Your questions continue, as though you do not realise it is taking everything in me to form these words, to form coherent thoughts.

"I'm yours." Your hips thrust up to meet me. "I am your desperate, needy, cock hungry slut."

"Good girl, you purr." My breasts swinging in front of your face every time I move up and down.

Your free hand moves down and cups my ass, guiding me up and down. And each time I slam down onto you, your thumb presses against my anus. I know I do not need to worry about you doing something I don't like. It is just another reminder as to who is really in control. I may be riding your cock, but it is you that will deny or allow my orgasm. My hips roll against you again, my moans louder this time, higher in pitch. You know I am getting close.

"I'm going to count to ten." I don't stop. I have not been given an instruction to stop. "And when I get to ten you are to stop moving. And then you may cum. Do you understand?"

"God, yes Sir." My body moving faster up and down your length. Chasing the release that is finally in sight.

"1...2...3...4." My body moves against you faster and faster. I can feel the tension building inside me, my walls preparing to clamp down around you. "8...9...10. Stop! And cum."

Exactly on cue I sit in your lap and explode. My head flies back, my eyes squeeze shut and my body pulses around you. Wave after wave of pleasure running through me.

"Good girl." Your hand at my throat squeezes harder. The other leaves my ass and takes a handful of my hair. "Look at me." My eyes roll to yours. My hands now taking handfuls of your hair as I try to find something to ground me. "Keep cumming and look at me." You flex your cock inside me. "Mine," you growl, carnal.

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