Just a Simple Romantic Dinner

His hands caught me by the waist and whirled, pressing me against the wall, my feet leaving the ground and wrapping around his wrist. My hands ran over his neck and shoulders as our lips ground together, tongues like mating cobras. His hands ran over my bum, squeezed, slid up my waist, then to between us, fondling my boobs. His rigid manhood ground against my abdomen; I squirmed to reach it, but he spun away, carried me three steps into his living room and dropped me gently on the rug. He knelt beside me, spread my knees.

"Wait!" I gasped.

I rose to my feet, squatted and squeezed inside. Thankfully the balls, those horrible, wonderful, evil, delightful balls, popped out easily. I put them aside, reached behind his sex and tore off the egg. It shivered, pulsed in my hand as I tossed it to rest beside the glistening spheres.

To my surprise, he seized me by a wrist, pulled me momentarily to my feet before bending me over the back of the sofa.

Then he had knelt behind me, spreading my legs and bum cheeks, his tongue and lips teasing and playing and delighting my already-quivering sex, dipping into my opening, circling my pearl until I couldn't stand it any more.

"Todd!"

He took mercy on me; stood up behind me, one hand on my hip. I sensed his hand against my bum, felt that wonderful soft, blunt probing against my sex and gave a happy shriek as he pushed forward, filling me to my depths in one long, easy push of muscular hips.

He paused for a second, eased back and forth a little, then began to plunge back and forth in my depths, the rim of that wonderful cock-head stretching, stroking my walls, pushing me higher and higher with each stroke.

I reached behind with both hands, fingers fumbling, found a grip on the harness over his hips and used it to pull him into me harder, deeper. There was a flat, slapping sound each time he drove home and I could feel the ropes against my bottom when we collided.

He began to rumble, a low, almost primitive sound, began lunging against me in almost a frenzy.

My nipples, my pussy, my lips swollen, praying for release, I felt a glowing heat run over my entire body, found myself shrieking as his cock pistoned back and forth.

He slowed, panting, sucked air into his lungs, folded over me, his manhood throbbing and pulsing deep inside me and that was all it took to turn my world into a sunrise of colour, bass drums of pulse in my ears keeping time with acres of cymbals and my own sobs and cries of delight, fading slowly, oh so slowly, velvet darkness following.

+

I awoke, endless time later, in his bedroom. By the light of relit candles, I could see faint rope-marks across his torso where he had removed his harness.

His hands were fumbling with my corset busks in front.

"No," I mumbled sleepily. "Don't. You need to untie it in back."

For some reason, maybe the faint orgasmic echoes still wandering through me, I was finding it difficult to roll over. Seeing my effort, he helped. Strong fingers found the laces and I could feel the pressure gradually come off my waist. Soon enough, he'd pulled out the last lace.

"Lift," he said, patting my bottom.

I moaned softly. Right then, the last thing I wanted to do was to move.

"G'way. Wanna sleep."

He laughed kindly as a strong arm slid under my belly, lifting me gently as the corset pulled away.

He tenderly rearranged me on the bed, lay down beside me, pulled up the covers.

I purred gently as he spooned me, his hand running gently over my shoulder, waist, hip and thigh, smiled at his whispered, "Happy Valentine's Day, love."

My last thought was some minor wonder, how had he got my suspenders free? No matter; I'd find out tomorrow.

I slept.

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