His pet's Punishment

Each thrust seemed harder, deeper, and faster and his release rose and erupted like a volcano when she threw her head back and wailed loudly. Her body seemed to clamp onto him, drawing him; coaxing him deeper. His wail was like to hers and their voices rung through the room, coursing through the other's senses.

When the waves subsided, they both clung to the other, panting deeply, trying to regain their composure. She smiled at him warmly and ran her fingers against his cheek and chin. He let go of her legs and she slowly let them drop as he slid out of her slowly.

With the intensity and duration of the orgasm they had just experienced, he would have thought his cock would have slowly become flaccid. He was still hard when he slid from within her. She looked down at his hard glistening cock and then into his eyes. She had a far off look in her eyes, as if in a trance. She placed first one foot, then the other to the floor and then slid off the ledge of the couch. She knelt in front of him and wrapped her hand around his cock. He was very sensitive at that moment and thus her touch was very gentle; soothing. It was then he could feel the heat of her tongue, lapping at their juices, which had trickled down his thighs. Dear God he groaned as she bathed his flesh with her tongue. Closer and closer she drew to his pulsing sex and the intensity of the sensation caused him to grip the ledge of the couch to steady his stance. His knees felt weak; as if his legs would buckle beneath him.

When her strokes reached his cock, she changed her pace a bit, softening, taunting him, worshipping his cock as if he were a God and she a mere mortal; her humility evident, to be caressing him so intimately. Her strokes were so gentle, tender, yet the impact was so extreme. She placed her hands gently on the tight spheres of his ass and held him, as she suckled his rigid organ. The swollen head of his cock pulsed in her mouth and each time it did, she whimpered a bit, the vibration of her mouth reverberating through his senses, igniting his nervous system. He felt as though he would absolutely combust. He locked his long fingers in her hair, caressing the back of her head. When his senses could tolerate it no longer, he eased her back a bit and withdrew from her mouth. Her lips were red and pulpy and he had never seen her look more beautiful. She looked at him, confused, and he bent to his knees.

He pressed her to her back and spread her legs, wide. His hands found their haven on her inner thighs and he spread his fingers, holding her tightly. With his thumbs he spread the petals of her sex and the scent of their coupling filled his nostrils. It intoxicated him. He lowered his head and pressed the tip of his tongue to her clit, ever so gently. She groaned like a wanton whore and his cock lurched. Her clit throbbed under his touch, begging for more, begging to be taken, tasted; conquered. He began to flick her taut flesh in quick but gentle strokes. He felt her relax just a bit before her muscles went rigid. She arched her lower back right off the floor, her head back. Her breath was coming in short little pants. Her eyes were closed and her fists were clung into the carpet, arms wide and tense. Her legs twitched with every stroke of his tongue and he could feel the possession he had of her body and senses. It was when he closed his lips around her throbbing nub when she lost all control. Her release shivered through her, brandishing her core with an intensity she had never experienced before. If she could have formed a coherent sound she would surely have screamed. His grip was unwavering as the waves crashed over her again and again until she was completely exhausted.

She lay there, very still but panting breathlessly. Finally, she opened her eyes a bit, to find him straddling her, bracing himself over her, hands next to her head. She glanced down to catch a glimpse of his cock, so rigid it was jutted almost to his belly. She looked into his eyes dreamily.

"Please Master, may I please You? Please; may I serve You?" She pleaded; her voice husky and warm.

"Yes you may pet; show me…" His voice dripped with lust as it left the depth of his throat.

She sat up and pressed his shoulders back gently. He sat back, bracing himself against the back of the couch. She then straddled over him. He placed his hands on her hips, and she drew herself closer to him. Her mouth was so close to his, he could feel their warm, yet they did not meet. She manipulated her body enough that she placed herself in position to slide onto him, yet not once had to use her hands. When she was in the right position, she slowly slid onto him. She forced herself onto the length of him, his aching need intensifying as she impaled herself upon his eager flesh. When their bodies met from the depth, she gasped; a tender whimper, for the invasion of his body into hers bordered upon unbearable. She placed her hands behind him, on the ledge of the couch, to provide her leverage, and then set about to ride him.

He watched her, fascinated, as her hips rolled and thrust onto him with an incredibly driving, primal need. Every nerve fiber in his body was tense and rigid, pulling him deeper and deeper into oblivion. He captured and held her gaze as her body bruised itself onto him. He saw the surrender, the utter selflessness of her actions evident in the depths of her soul. There was no doubt on his mind that he owned her completely; her actions portrayed solely with the intent of his pleasure. He saw the gentle coaxing there; she wanted him to be pleased. It was only when he was pleased that she would encounter satisfaction.

His release caught him off guard. She ground and thrust onto him, drawing the surge to the surface; unrelenting in her quest to satisfy him. It pounded him, tossing his resolve into its oblivion. She rode him until he stopped her, as he was completely spent. He smiled at her lazily and pulled her close. She slid off him gently and rose to her feet.

"I'll be right back," she said softly and proceeded towards the kitchen on unsteady legs. She returned promptly with a large bottle of ice cold water. She opened it and handed it to him and then was off to the bedroom to return with two pillows and a washcloth. He had risen and moved to the couch, to sprawl onto his back. He felt like a content lion who had feasted on his prey. He didn't think he had ever felt so appreciated, content or satisfied. She placed the pillows aside and knelt in front of him, with the cloth in her hand. She proceeded to bathe him gently with the warm wet washcloth and he watched her hands and her eyes as she gently performed her task. As she finished, he pulled her to him and she curled against his chest, wrapped in his arms. He was starved, but he didn't want to move. As the day had drawn to a close, they were happy to be together. She lay still, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart and fell into a deep restful asleep. He stroked her hair gently as he joined her there.