So this is my first story submission. Mine normally start out as dreams, fantasies, or Sunday morning orgasms. Please email me or comment with suggestions. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.
It was midsummer. The grass was long, lush and rippling softly in the wind. The sun beat down on a couple enjoying the sun. She was naked on a towel in the middle of the lawn, along with a man who also lacked clothing. She was huddled into him, upper bodies close together, legs extending into the flowers. He was reading a novel, was working his way through 'the classics' as he called them, great works of literature. She was writing. Pencil on paper, it was all you could hear except the turning of pages and the wind in their hair. Both felt carefree and content in the afternoon sunshine. They sat like that for hours, the day winding down into early evening before anyone spoke. She put down her book, and traced a line up his thigh.
"Almost finished this chapter. You go and get dressed, I know you take longer than I do in the shower!"
He was answered with a punch to the shoulder.
The girl sighed, and settled her head on his hard stomach, her eyes on his bare chest. She began to feel a doze coming on and curled into him. Her eyes closed, sunlight making them heavy. She was looking forward to tonight; they were going to dinner. It was never just them, there was always friends, other couples, parents who insisted on joining them, but this time they had the whole weekend ahead, alone together. He kissed her hair and laid a hand down her side. She smiled and let the warmth engulf her body.
She dreamt they were in the bedroom. He was good in the sack, experienced, but there were even things he hadn't tried. Things he thought would be below the line for him to do to her. Anal, for one thing. This shocked her the most. Wasn't anal supposed to be heaven on earth for men? He thought it would hurt her, and refused, but she hadn't told him she had experienced it at the hands of one of the gentlest men she had ever known, and loved it. She needed somehow to let his kinkiest side out. She knew it was there somewhere, when drunk, or extremely horny. They enjoyed power games and bondage. Their safe word was 'poison ivy'. He gave it her the very first time they had sex. She knew that she would never say it, no matter what he put her through, she would take anything he gave her. The thought of it made something stir within her. Her orgasms were stronger when he was rough with her. Visions of herself bound and helpless, him taking her favourite hole at last shifted her in her sleep. His fingers were everywhere, on her chest, cunt, and slowly easing into her arsehole. Moans escaped her. She shook and felt him as if he were really there, gently caressing her back, the feeling contrasting with him impaling her hard on his cock. So believable. Her clit ached. She needed him. Something small and sharp entered her arsehole, and she gasped, surprised. Had he not cut his nails? Another finger slowly eased into her pussy, and another, slick. She needed to touch herself. She brought an eager hand down, and her eyes fluttered open.
"You okay, babe?" He asked, his hand gently pressing into the top of her thigh. His voice was full of genuine concern. "You were moaning in your sleep again." He lowered his voice to a husky whisper. "Were you dreaming about tonight and what I'm going to do to you now that everyone's buggered off? Babe?"
She didn't answer him. Instead she pulled herself up into a kneeling position. That was a vivid dream, more intense than usual. She felt a hand on the small of her bare back and another tilted her chin up for his blue eyes to stare into hers. He felt her ragged breath on his chin.
"I'm okay. Just had a really intense dream."
"Shut it. Time?"
"Not too late. You can still have a shower and make the reservation." He said.
"Good. Did you finish the whole book?" She rolled over to find it nestled in the grass. 'I might read this one too."
"I did indeed. I would love it if you did, we could have dignified conversations about it. You would really enjoy the sex scenes."
"It's Dickens! There are no sex scenes!"
He laughed and grabbed her round the waist, and pulled her to him.
"We'll have to edit in some sex, then," He uttered in his lowest voice. Sam laughed. He began to kiss his way down her neck, then paused. She turned and looked at him expectantly, then followed his look down and saw the moisture shining on her thighs.
He grinned at her.
Sam stepped out of the shower and into one of her favourite bath towels. It was large and engulfed even her. She wandered across the hall to the bedroom and found Dan tying his shoelaces.
"Hey, naked lady!" came across the room.
She smiled, dropped the towel on the floor, and opened the lingerie drawer. Instantly she felt him behind her, a good few inches taller and more toned than she was, one arm appearing around her waist and pulling her into him. Something in her jumped erratically for his touch. She let out a long, low whistle.
"I must be hornier than I thought."
"You've been like that all day, so wet, so wanting." Sam could hear the joke in his tone, and didn't take the bait. "Well, is it any wonder considering what you'll be wearing tonight?"
He withdrew two scraps of lace from the drawer, kissed her on the cheek, and dropped them on the bed.
"See you downstairs in ten?"
Sam discovered that the lingerie her had picked out ticked the box marked 'Dan's favourite'. Black, sheer, and with no support in the bra. It was the middle of July, so her nipples wouldn't show through the thin fabric, thank god. Yet they both knew she bought the set just to turn him on, and so she came to the conclusion that he must be wanting some tonight. She smiled to herself, and chose to go with matching stockings. She picked a dress that was short and loose enough so that with the right wind he might get a little sneak peak beforehand.
They went to 'La Romantica' a tiny, old restaurant hidden on the depths of London Road where you could see the chefs working and the staircase was so narrow that you had to wait for the person to come down the stairs before you went up. They discussed Dickens and how long the heat wave would last. This was England, after all, and such weather would be more at home in the Mediterranean.
"Would you like to go to Jo's?" Dan asked her.
"Is it tomorrow? Maybe, I don't know. It'd be nice to stay in the house, get a takeaway, perhaps. We could watch a film and then go over to the shop for ice-cream?" Sam replied.
"Sure. We went to her party last time. If we go to the next one, we could say you're ill and just relax this weekend." He said.
Dan watched her nod her head in response, her hair floating forwards to cover her face. She brushed it out of the way and smiled at him. He loved it when she wore her hair down. She was somehow more feminine than when she had it up. He grinned to himself. She was such a tease. Her shins in those heels produced a curve that made him want to bite them. He'd spotted earlier that she'd worn stockings. He guessed that it was so he could have her in them later.
The couple ate their way through a shared starter, and separate mains. There was a pause between the courses, and Sam went upstairs, and came down again. As she walked around the back of his chair to get to her own, she pushed something small and black into his hand. A napkin - he thought. But with a smirk as big as that across her face he knew it had to be something more. He lowered it under the table and opened his palm. The sight of it made him go instantly hard.
Whilst they were waiting for dessert he fixed her with such a stare she could of sworn her nipples turned to stones. He was so hot. He had those eyes that could see straight into your soul. Her breasts felt tingly. Almost as if she had pins and needles, but lighter, and it tickled a bit. She couldn't concentrate on him, only the feeling growing stronger in her chest. She really hoped it was Dan having that effect on her. With a look like that, and the fact that she now wore no knickers, and could feel the silk of her dress rubbing against her bare cheeks whenever she shifted in her chair, she presumed it was. She couldn't wait much longer, she wanted him now. She felt swollen slightly, engorged. All she could think about was him touching her, grabbing her, pinching her, biting her. She shut her eyes as her vision overtook her, needing his touch, his body. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. The feeling had gone. Dan hadn't noticed.
They went for an after dinner walk with the rest of the bottle of wine through the local park, and sat under a big old oak tree. There was a gap just big enough for her to sit on top of him between the roots. Sam had started to regret sitting on him in this position, she knew that he must be able to see straight down her top and see her whole body due to her lack of knickers and her sheer bra. He shifted her onto his other knee and she became increasingly aware of his erection, seeming even harder in his tight jeans. His voice thrummed and murmured nothings into her ear.
"Should we head back? It looks like the clouds are coming over."
"Maybe," he said. "I wouldn't mind staying and enjoying, erm," he paused a moment. "The view." Sam could sense the laughter all over his face.
On the way home, they caught a taxi. Sam had had a little too much wine for his liking, he knew she couldn't drive having consumed what was considered over the legal limit. They had been wanting each other all day. Now was the moment they would be able to release that tension that had been slowly building for some time. Dan couldn't help himself - he slid his hand slowly up her thigh. The driver didn't notice, thank god, but he could feel her tensing the further up he went. Slowly, to build the anticipation. He probably moved a few inches in the time it took them to travel ten miles. She was panting quietly by the end of it, her head on his shoulder, her breath in his ear. She had a hold on his other arm and he was glad that they got home when they did, otherwise he would have lost all feeling in it. They tipped the taxi and ran up the path. He couldn't help himself.
As soon as they were in the house he had her up against the wall, his hands making his way up her skirt. She felt his strength holding her there, she couldn't have moved even if she had to. Instead, she squirmed against him. This only fed his imagination - he growled into her ear, a slow, predator like sound, that raised the hairs on the back of her neck and gave her the feeling she was going to be taken, if she agreed with him or not. He kicked her ankles apart, his legs holding her open for him. His hand reached her centre, finding her moist, he drew a line instead back down her thigh, playing with her.
"You're a wet little tease."
With the other hand he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him, and then kissed her, biting her tongue and bottom lip. He slowly stroked fingers along the creases where her long legs met her body. Naked and spread under him, she shivered. She could feel his straining cock against her tummy. She closed her eyes and relaxed, moaning into his mouth, she let him have his way. His hand made it's way to the zipper on her dress, trapped between her and the wall. He bit into her neck and growled, pulling her to him away from the wall, and as she didn't fight him, he managed to slide the zipper down.
She felt strong hands pick her up and throw her on to the sofa. Then he was gone, and she didn't know why. Her tits were throbbing again, even without his presence she felt his hands all over her. Pulling her hair, tracing down her back, nipping at the backs of her thighs. Her breasts were bigger than they were before, she could feel her heartbeat in them, throbbing, itching. All she could smell was sex. Her vision blurred and she thought wildly of having been drugged.
Her fantasy was to be taken and raped, from a bar, after having been slipped something, but she swore to herself that Dan would've given her a sign, a hint it would be tonight. She rolled to the left and fell off the chair, onto the wooden flooring. There was a muffled ripping sound - her dress - probably. She carried on rolling and ended up on her back, her burning flesh artificially hot against the cold floor, sweat making tracks down her sides. She tried to slow her breathing and closed her eyes. There was a scratching, an itch, somewhere deep inside her. She tried to scratch her body on the floor. It wasn't the same feeling when she needed sex, but she had that too. She opened her eyes and saw stars, slowly pulsating in front of her. She wanted to scream, to call for him, but all that came out was a high pitched moan. She scratched her thighs with her nails, deep furrows that burned afterwards. Rolling over and over, but the feeling wouldn't leave her. A strangled noise filled the room, and it took her some time to realise that it was her.
Dan was upstairs, under the bed, and trying to find his rope. It had been kicking around his bedroom for a while, but had not been used since Sam was over last.
"Where the fuck is it?"
This wasn't how it was meant to be, the rope should have been waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs, but the only time he could have got it was when she was stood right next to the bed. He heard her moaning. She must be getting herself off. Sexy slut.
"Don't you move from that sofa, or I'll have to come and show you whose boss!" he told her, in the most threatening tone he could muster. It was loud enough so he knew she had heard him.
He shouldn't have let her out of his sight, he didn't want her thinking she could run rings around him. But this couldn't be helped. He fell to his knees, and spotting the little bundle across the room, caught it up and sprinted down stairs. Pausing, he took some deep breaths before opening the door - he had to be the composed one, or this would not work. What was he going to do with her now that he had her? He was suddenly conscious of his cock - it throbbed and ached inside his jeans at the thought of her waiting for him. He considered opening his fly to ease his discomfort, but thought that it would give him away.
He entered the room, and she was nowhere to be seen. Dropping the rope, he went to the sofa. She was on the other side on the floor panting, and moaning his name. Her eyes shut, she was covered in sweat and his first reaction was that she must be in pain. Her head rolled from side to side and she was grabbing her tits hard.
"Sam!" He got down on his knees and held her to the floor by her shoulders. "Are you okay? Sam I -"
She stopped moving, opened her eyes, slowly and seductively, rehearsed, almost. Her eyes were dark, misty and unlike hers. They met his and she opened her mouth and pouted.
"Oh, Dan, please fuck me."
His boner returned instantly. Little bitch. He got up and crossed the room for the rope. There were more scuffling sounds, and she stood up behind him. There was a dead look in her eyes when she looked at him, mouth open, panting still. Her upper body moved with her breathing, rising and falling with her movement. Her breasts had large hand and nail marks all over them and seemed to be redder than normal. Her stockings were torn, her bra dishevelled. With her hair over her face like that he wanted to pin her to the ground and have his way with her - no matter what.
He opened his mouth to say something but she took a running leap at him, clawing at his crotch. He grabbed a thin wrist and wrestled it to the ground. What was up with her tonight? He knew they hadn't been together for a while, but even so, she was never this physical in bed normally. She fought him, scratching his arm with her other hand until that too was pinned to the ground. It joined her other in his left hand. With his right he removed the remains of her dress, examining them as he did so. Torn. She kicked and screamed his name, then switched to moaning and begging for him to take her. He didn't get what she was playing at, but she was turning him on massively. Normally she was a beauty, but the animalistic nature of her moans made something in him ache. A stray foot connected with his head and disrupted his thoughts. He wrestled with and then sat on her, his six foot four no match for her mere five eleven. He bent down over her struggling body, so that his mouth was level with her ear. He paused. He still hadn't made up his mind that this was an appropriate solution for this situation.
"If me taking you hard is all you desire, then you're going to get it, and them some."
She shook, and gasped. Her breathing became softer, deeper. Her limbs stopped jerking, and he felt her relax under him. He took a deep breath. He had said the right thing. Turning around, he shifted his weight so he wouldn't hurt her, but was still rendering her immobile. He unwound the rope and tied her ankles together. He also proceeded to tie her wrists together, she was less fond of him doing that. He got off her, and she stayed down.
"Dan? What's happening now?"
Her soft, innocent voice was back. Girlish, even. She sat up and looked at her hands and feet.
"Dan, honey? Why am I tied up like this - why am I naked? What happened to my dress, Dan?"
"Sam? Babe, thank god, you've been worrying me - I had to tie you up to stop you from injuring yourself, or me, for that matter. Can you not remember what's just happened?"
She shook her head.
"Sort of. I remember you pinning me to the wall - bastard!" She spat out the word. "Tell me."
Should he? He knew she wouldn't believe him if he did. Her eyes were filled with curiosity, her expression honest and concerned. She really didn't remember any of it, did she?
Dan breathed a sigh. He sat down and looked at her. He looked at the floor, paused, and then looked back at her. Her eyes suddenly glittered, she was looking at him with an expression that he had never seen before, and keeping her eyes on his, she slowly started grinding her hips into the floor. She let a breathy wail escape her lips. Dan couldn't take much more, at the very least he had to release himself from his clothing. She seemed incapable of telling him what she wanted. Perhaps he should tell someone about her, just in case - just in case what? She was Sam, his girlfriend. Who must be really, really horny. There was nothing odd about this. She was bound, as normal. He had control, as normal.
He stood, and gently unzipped his fly. She instantly found the sound, her torso instantly upright, her head snapping to his crotch. Her eyes were black, liquid, and unreadable.
"Is this what you want? Is it? Ooh, you like the look of that, don't you? Yes, it's so stiff for you, baby. This is what you do to me. You want some of it, don't you? You want some of my hard cock."
He ran his hand over his shaft and had to stop himself doing it again. He was so ready now, but if he was right in she needed it more than he did. Her head tilted to the side and a guttural moan shook her body.
She was going to be fucked. Finally. It was all that she wanted. The itch became stronger, somehow sensing it's impending release. Her swollen breasts were now too big for her bra, they felt caged, pulsating and heavy. Nipples inflated and hard. Her cunt was engorged with blood, it was twitching for his touch. There was something in her rectum aching for attention. Her whole body needed contact with something, her own hands, or his. Something told her that his touch would be the more satisfying one. She didn't fight him when he picked her up from the floor. She needed something in her throat, her pussy, her ass. Anything, as long as it belonged to him.