Reciprocal Affection

As if reading my mind, he spoke, a breathy edge to his voice. "I want you, B. You still thinking about last night?"

I nodded with the limited movement I could afford given my position. He continued. "Me too. Can't get you out of my head. The way you looked when you came... the sounds you made every time. The sweet taste of your pussy soaking my face as you pressed hard up against me."

His words spurred me on as I felt a further dribble of hot juice exit my body and cling to my shaved lips. I was overcome with desire to break grip and slide my hands beneath the cool apron to touch my dripping sex, scoop wetness onto my fingers and drive them inside myself. I wanted my palm on my trembling clit, circling and pressing and flicking fingers over it to springboard my urgent orgasm; to finish what I had started earlier at the office.

But while the smouldering build up of the day, my freewheeling thoughts, and my dirty, submissive act of fellatio threatened to consume me and fracture my resolve, I wanted to please him more. Needed it somehow. No longer simply reciprocating his beautifully selfless act of the previous evening, I desired to feel loved through my slutty behaviour. To watch him adore me for what I could do to him. To have him teetering on the edge of desire, almost out of control, and know I caused it and could decide his fate. It was crazy -- backwards -- and didn't make any sense to anything other than the endorphin-fuelled side of my brain, but somehow I kept my hands where they were and simply drove my mouth harder and deeper onto Adam's steely shaft, trying to devour every inch the way I had planned.

The articles I had read on the Internet said deep throating was all about the angle of approach. Either the articles or my technique were wrong. His glans banged savagely against the back of my mouth -- too far for me to cope -- and my gag reflex kicked in. I spluttered uncontrollably around his girth, cheeks filling with air as I yanked my head away. Thick strings of saliva looped between my lips and his cock head, lengthening, breaking then dropping to my lap under their own weight as I gasped in a lungful of oxygen.

Breathing out hard, cursing quietly, nostrils flaring, I watched the spit slither down my apron, disappointed that I hadn't managed what I had set out to achieve. After a long moment I glanced up to apologise for my failure and stopped in my tracks. Adam's reaction painted an entirely different story to the one I expected: it was abundantly clear he wanted me. Badly. All of a sudden, that became the adulation my twisted mind craved. I almost brimmed over with pride at his expression, and my pussy leaked more nectar from my re-energised body. He loved me, and didn't seem to care I hadn't reached my goal of taking his entire length. The act of giving myself to him so completely was more than love enough.

So I did it again.

Keeping my eyes on his -- at least for the first part of the journey -- I rammed my mouth down onto his shaft, splitting my lips wide, sucking him into me, trying unsuccessfully to control the gagging, coughing and spluttering as saliva sprayed, but feeling an energy course through me at his wide-eyed adoration. I wiggled my head side to side at full depth, his glans tickling the roof of my mouth and entrance to my throat, then gasped automatically as I rapidly withdrew, lungs desperate for air after being choked by his rigid length.

Through watery eyes I saw him breathe deeply, smiling warmly at my slutty performance. I wanted to show him what he meant to me; how far I was willing to go to please him. So twice more I repeated the act of attempting to deep throat his manhood, the final time not even getting close to his full length inside me before having to back off, coughing. I sensed Adam was near to coming anyway so I just sat back on my haunches, hands still firmly held behind me, my nipples pressing against the apron that glistened with my saliva. I presumed my lips were a slick, foamy mess.

I could see him fighting his body for control, looking up at the ceiling, squeezing his eyes open and shut, and it pleased me. Frankly, if he was having a hard time at self control I was equally struggling, and desperately craved release of my own. I wanted him to take me; I wanted to beg him to fuck me and cry out as his girth split me in two. But I wasn't going to ask him for it. He was going to have to take it. He was going to break first; of that I was determined.

So I just sat there watching, waiting for him to calm. Looking for the signs. And just when he thought he was safe I leaned forward and gently nibbled the tip of his cock, breathing over it as it jumped to attention. I suckled the pearlescent droplet of pre-come, roamed my glossy lips over and around the head, snaked my tongue out and ran it over the surface of the head, then down and back up his bobbing shaft. I opened my mouth and slid him into me, not deeply, just half way and pulled back, fixing him with a sultry stare.

"You want me, don't you?"

He nodded of course.

"You want my hot, bare, dripping pussy wrapped tightly around your dick don't you? To take me hard? Make me scream?"

An emphatic nod yes.

"Seeing me sat helpless this way makes you horny doesn't it?"

Another nod, fast and sharp.

"It does me too. Lift the apron. See how wet I am for you."

He stooped and raised the vinyl with shaking hands, staring at my shimmering, polished lips hanging open in a wanton display of yearning. I let him ogle a moment then continued the monologue.

"Enough!"

He stood back up obediently, cock waving at full mast in front of my hungry stare.

"The only way you'll get my dripping slit is if you take it. I'm not going to give it to you. You'll need to take this haaaard prick -" I sucked his head between my lips sedately, swirled my tongue around the end and backed away to sit on my haunches again, "and ram it inside me. You'll need to give in to your urges."

I leaned forward and slid my lips over his shaft again, eyes never leaving his as I slowly and tantalisingly crept lower, keeping a tight grip around his hardness. His warm cock filled my mouth and I savoured the feeling of the way it jerked as he fought for control, before sliding him from me with a wet pop. I let him calm again, then spoke.

"I don't think you have it in you to keep your cock out of my slippery little pussy. You'll crack." It was thinly disguised begging, I knew, but I was desperate and piled on the nastiness all the same, trying to make him snap. "You'll thrust this hot, fat prick into my... tight... wet... cunt. You'll shove it repeatedly inside me, making me cry out for more. Making me beg you for it harder until we both come."

I saw him breathe deeply once more and witnessed his expression harden. Knowing that must have been all he could take, less than a second before he reacted, I braced myself.

Jackpot.

In a single powerful burst he reached down and suddenly grabbed my shoulders, hauling me upward as I scrambled awkwardly to my feet. He grasped my wrists that were still crossed behind my back and marched me roughly across the kitchen to the back wall, bending me forward slightly and shoving my cheek against it. The paint felt cool against my face and I smiled at the shift in power. It wasn't quite how I'd planned, but the end result was the same: I had driven him off his sexual rails and was going to receive my fat, driving prize where I needed it most.

My pussy practically dripped for him as he hooked a chair towards us, lifted my leg and placed my Louboutin on it, spreading me for entry. With one hand still firmly keeping my wrists in place behind my back he applied pressure to my shoulders so I slid a little further down the wall, bottom protruding towards him. From that position he would have seen my tight little derriere beneath the ties of the apron, my brown entrance small and inviting; the hold-ups below just adding to the allure.

He paused momentarily and I could almost hear the cogs turning. In my experience, men were divided broadly into two camps: those who preferred the soft curves of my 36Cs, and those that loved the draw of my firm, shapely rear. Adam was definitely an arse man. On any other day I might have moved further down the wall for him, to really show off my tiny opening -- maybe even beg him to take me that way -- but today was all about my fiery slit.

Without any further warning I felt his prick slide quickly to the hilt into my sodden pussy. His tiny crop of pubic hair nestled against my backside as he split me perfectly and I gasped when he began to pick up the pace, sawing his fat cock deeply in and out. The fact I was restrained made the situation even more decadent. One leg on the chair, one on the floor, face shoved against the wall with each savage thrust of his wide knob; being used for his pleasure. And mine. A brief flashback of watching the couple in a similar position through the window of the Italian hotel zipped across my mind. No wonder she had enjoyed it.

The twin feelings of helplessness and supremacy riotously sparred inside me and turned me on further as Adam took me forcefully from behind. My tits swung wildly inside the apron, scratching the lining, nipples lengthening at the friction. Short, sharp breaths, accompanied by impulsive groans, condensed warmly on the wall alongside my cheek; pummelled from me by Adam's relentless assault.

It felt so good to finally be fucked after hours of torment. My swollen pussy devoured everything he had to offer, hungrily, voraciously, gleefully; my body a more than willing receptacle for his primal urges. Maybe I was the insatiable one in the relationship? Maybe I did need therapy to control my urges; to tame the sexual appetite that had steadily threatened to consume me over the last year? But perhaps in its own warped way, sex _was_ therapy? The openness to cross boundaries and experiment with acts that a few years ago would have shocked me, was maybe my freaky way of dealing with being unmarried in my thirties without kids on the horizon. Adam certainly had no complaints. And how could anything this good be bad? Being hammered into the wall like this was truly sensational!

Messages flew around my body from each erogenous zone, colliding somewhere in my brain, flicking switches on to release the hormones that would ultimately result in a crushing orgasm. Time and again Adam's cock completely exited my distended pussy lips and forced its way back inside my body; each lunge spreading my slippery insides and delivering waves of white heat along the length of my soaked walls, culminating in violent sparks jumping across my pink clit.

The highly charged network of receptors around my body injected their deliciously heightened payload into my bloodstream and my circuits began to overload. Amid a sudden rush of energy I felt as if someone had magnetised my clit and every fragment of sexual flotsam in my body turned and blasted towards my core, ultimately concentrating in an area barely the width of my little finger. Although I usually preferred direct clitoral stimulation, I could come almost as well given the right amount of encouragement elsewhere.

And this sure as hell qualified.

As Adam pounded his cock into my drenched pussy, the events of the previous evening and the pent up sexual pressure of the day sped through my mind and detonated my orgasm. It started deep in my pussy, gripped my clit and formed a knot in my belly that tightened then rapidly unwound, exploding electrical signals in all directions. I shivered as my skin lit up rapidly in sequence; tummy, breasts, neck, back, arms, hands, legs, and feet. My toes tingled inside my shoes, I closed my eyes and my mouth formed an 'O' shape alongside the wall as I panted hard into the release.

Juice from somewhere deep within me flooded my canal, lubricating Adam's powerful thrusts further. The tingling of my limbs then quickly gave way to the sensation of my pussy walls rhythmically clamping around his prick as he propelled uncontrollably up into me. We weren't completely in sync so sometimes his in-stroke caught my contraction and I yelped as he spread my tunnel wide against its natural impulse.

It was good pain, though. If anything, the brief stinging strokes reaffirmed how much of a horny vamp I'd become since dating Adam. On a purely base level, it felt terrific to be used in this degrading manner; force fucked for his entertainment while restrained. I knew it was moments like these that defined a person; when every shred of control -- even dignity -- was stripped away and there was nothing left but to accept the impulses and urges towards which I had steered us, allowing my body to guide me to places my conscious mind wouldn't usually permit. It reminded me of raucous nights in adjoining hotel rooms: listening for the moments when anonymity had removed the need for prudence and all barriers were down, witnessing the release of the primitive human animal.

As had sprung forth now.

Our antics were the complete antithesis of the gentle, loving symphony the night before where my mind and sopping pussy had been treated to hours of delightful, erotic, oral stimulation. This was more a staccato brawl in the mosh pit of a sweaty bar where my dripping cunt was ravaged and abused for a sole purpose: raw pleasure. Both ends of the scale were exquisite; both had their place in my world, and I loved the diversity of feelings each evoked in my mind and quivering body.

Still keeping my hands held behind my back, Adam ploughed mercilessly into my aching slit as explosions continued to spew burning magma against the underside of my skin. He pulled my arms aside a little and I felt his thumb pressing firmly at the entrance to my anus. I let him in, and the nerve endings just inside my tiny rosebud joined the army of sensations that threatened to engulf my body.

He probed deeper and made positive guttural sounds, the dirtiness of the ingress to my back passage fuelling his own excitement; I could tell he was close by the erratic rhythm his strokes had taken and the way he leaned forward, his hot, laboured breathing in my ear as he called me filthy names through clenched teeth. From my wide open mouth I moaned loudly into the room at his words, punctuating the groans with deep sighs of escalating pleasure at every irregular, deep thrust.

My noises drove Adam over the edge.

He rammed his cock into my spasming tunnel one more time and roared as his sperm jetted inside me, splashing heat against the entrance to my womb. Suddenly my bottom was vacant and he let go of my hands, quickly yanking my leg from the chair to spin me round and guide me to the floor. His cock fell free and spurted a powerful lace of come onto the laminate before my chaotic head figured what he was up to. I knelt before him unquestioningly, fumbling behind me to grip the heels of my shoes, thrusting my chest up at him. He grabbed his glistening shaft and I tried not to flinch at the beautiful sight of him pumping the remainder of his orgasm onto my cheeks, chin and apron. It was magnificent to watch the eye of his knob spewing the last remaining jets of come against my face and the pink vinyl. His hot, white ribbons arced towards their destination and clung in limbo for a few seconds before mostly dripping and slithering south to pool on the floor between my parted thighs. Come from his initial blasts drizzled from my gaping slit and joined it, leaving sticky white globs of spunk dotted over the floor between my knees.

Looking up at him with sperm splotching my features, I saw him break out into a grin of deep satisfaction. He had his hand around his shaft, which was still periodically leaking drops of pearly come. I could smell myself on his tool and it thrilled me; my top note reminiscent of jasmine -- sweet, richly floral and exotic -- while the longer base note had a creamy, earthier quality. I let the scent envelop my senses, shutting my eyes, boosting the warm glow inside me.

When I opened them I gazed up at Adam, releasing my heels to bring my hands in front of me. With a finger I slowly and deliberately directed his goo from my cheeks and chin into my mouth, then stuck out my tongue and traced the contours of his wide, now very red, glans, scooping errant droplets of his seed into my mouth and swallowing. He was salty and bittersweet which complemented my creaminess perfectly. As I wrapped my lips over his gradually softening member to draw his length into my warm mouth I basked in our mixture. I loved my come as much as Adam's yet found the combination far greater than the sum of its parts.

Circling his prick lazily with my tongue, I let him soften completely in my mouth as the fires inside me began to abate. Despite the pace of our quickie, my pussy lips felt swollen and invigorated, hanging wide open; I suspected a battleship could glide into my port without touching the sides.

The surface of my skin abruptly became sensitive to touch and I had to twist to rearrange my posture, moving the scratchy surface of the apron away from the most affected parts. My nipples throbbed, my heart rate was still high and I was unexpectedly famished, but I felt centred; like cosmic balance had been restored. Was I selfish and manipulative to use Adam for my own sexual fulfilment? Possibly. Was I really thanking him for his treat last night or was I just a dirty temptress with raging internal needs? Perhaps more the latter. But his eyes told me it didn't really make any difference: we'd both enjoyed my shameless behaviour and that was that.

With each passing moment the knots in my stomach progressively unwound and when Adam's cock eventually slipped wetly from my mouth the physical glow had all but faded, replaced with a glorious sense of happiness and achievement. There was nothing greater than the contentment of post-orgasmic bliss to warm the soul.

As Adam bent to kiss me and our lips touched it dawned on me that the moments we shared and the acts we performed were part of something larger; a universal energy that flowed through and bound us. Passion, lust, excitement, stimulation, fulfilment of subconscious desires, and the ultimate release of hormones that came with climax were all connected, yet mere window dressing for the real expressions of love for each other that burst from within at the simplest of actions; chasing each other in the supermarket; walking through the park hand-in-hand; comforting each other when things went sideways.

That sweet, lingering kiss validated something I had grown to know innately over the past year or so; that for all our perceived faults and intermittent displays of flaky humanity amid the normal ups and downs of two people learning to share the same space with one another, every moment I spent with him -- sexual or not -- confirmed that I had made the perfect choice of partner.

I smiled from inside his kiss and pulled my head back. "OK. Now we eat."

"Good, I'm starving. Then what?"

I grinned impishly and stood. "Then you can choose dessert."