Holly

He had scarcely begun to pound into me when I was hurled towards the edge once more, terrified he'd stop, as nothing had ever felt this good, this intense. I tightened down, soaring towards that point of no return, his frantic ravaging of my teased and tortured cunt only intensifying as he grunted and moaned above me, fucking me faster and faster. With barely a second to fully appreciate the significance of what was about to happen, I realized, there was no longer time to stop. Everything in me tightened, and thinned, and then snapped.

I gasped, equal parts elated and terrified, as I was thrown, head first, plummeting over the cliff. My world was rent asunder, and all that was left was a being of pleasure, waves of intensity arcing up and down my body, as I clenched over and over on that perfect, fucking cock. I howled my pleasure until my throat was hoarse, rattling the wooden throne with my uncontrollable thrashing.

Nothing else mattered, awash in pleasure, I forgot anything that wasn't this moment.

It went on and on, and I bathed in it, felt saturated by it, and wondered at its intensity, as I floated down from my peak, body tingling wonderfully. I squeezed my eyes shut, savoring the lingering pulses, and the feeling of that steel hard cock splitting me open.

His frantic thrusting had not abated. If anything, he might have even sped up, encouraged by my reactions, moaning and snarling, his face a rictus of pleasure and effort.

I felt changed.

I had not known pleasure like that existed, and yet, I did not feel fully satisfied. A tingling, deep within, like an itch you can't scratch, told me there was more waiting, a looming precipice greater than the one I had just plummeted from. I trembled, as he wrenched me towards that next terrifying yet exhilarating peak. I gazed down at where we were joined, babbling pleading nonsense, his hips and cock a blur plunging in and out of my messy cunt, both of us stained white with my churned cream. My whole chest blushed red as I chased that next peak.

It came sooner than I expected, stronger than the last, more raw, the squeezing of my core on him so hard as to blur the line between pleasure and pain.

I screamed like I was dying, and in a way I suppose I was. I felt baptized. Born again in my own personal rapture, lifted from the mundane and shown colors for the first time.

When I finally opened my eyes I saw he looked elated, staring unblinking at me, watching and enjoying my reactions, and I could tell he was towards his own end. To my surprise he fucked a third peak out of me. It paled in comparison to the first two, like an echo, but it was lovely, and the grasping of my cunt brought him finally to his own end, as he spilled into me, moaning louder and more passionately than any man using me had before, his face beautiful masked in pleasure, and his grip as firm as it could go before true pain.

As his breathing calmed he ran his hands over my sweaty skin, paying particular attention to my breasts and belly. "I'll be seeing you again, pretty girl," he said, his voice still rough, sounding spent and satisfied, cock sliding gently out of my body.

He took his time clothing himself, staring at my flushed and thoroughly pleasured body the whole time. I gazed back in wonder at this man who had taken me to such depths, and such heights in turn, and I realized I was hoping I'd see him again. With the promise of such pleasure at the end I would follow him to any depth, as long there was an equal height to follow.

But he was just a soldier, or so I believed at the time, and I was but a lowly barrack's slave, not even fit to warm someone's bed. So he left, and I stayed not knowing if or when I'd ever see him again.

There were more men after him, and they seemed as children in comparison. Where once they had been able to garner reaction, now there was silence and stillness. That night when I was locked into my prison with the other women, I felt my ardor rise, not from the fumbling of pitiable men, but from the memory of Him. My pleasure guide. The teacher of my bodies' secrets.

I touched myself, and kept my silence. The peak was nothing compared to what He could wring from me, but was pleasant enough, and led me tenderly into the arms of the keeper of dreams, where I enjoyed the best night's rest I could ever remember having.