Summerstone Stories - London

He was soft spoken, but had some very clear instructions for his wife. Julie had simply purred and pulled her knee up to her chin where she sat, there was that fuzzy heat again, the one that built up in the back of her head and her lower tummy when her husband took charge of a situation.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

His strong digits were hooked inside her soft folds, while his eyes locked with hers. It was gray against green, the cold, pale blue of a stormy ocean, facing the deep green of a forest floor, moss shimmering in the evening sun. Erik's body lay towering on top of his partners, straddling her thigh with his strong quads. He leaned down above her head, making her whole world feel encapsulated by him, by Him.

Wherever Julie looked, he was there engulfing her. Wherever she felt, his body was warming hers, grip holding her, his fingers taking her. Wherever she tasted, wherever she smelled, was the remains of his lips against hers, his cologne, and the faint smell of alcohol on his breath. Julie let herself be consumed, opening for her husband with a shuddering sigh of relief.

His fingertips just hit that rugged patch inside her that sent those jolts of electricity through her body, and wadded clouds of cotton through her brain. A sharp inhale flew from her lips as Erik hooked his two fingers against the roof of her insides, dragging his touch around her G-spot and toying with her pussy, slowly, deeply, and with such a familiar and perfect touch. He knew her, inside and out, outside and in.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

His plan had been simple, or at least for her. There would be a key card waiting for her in the hotel reception. There would be Champagne in the fridge for her when she arrived. Then, there would be a few assorted bags and boxes placed on the hotel room desk, containing whatever clothes Erik wanted her to wear for the evening. She was supposed to enjoy herself, take her time making herself ready, and then meet him in the hotel bar at ten, that evening.

She chewed on her lower lip as she sat in the couch, listening to him explain the procedures in his affectionate but stern voice. In her mind she called it his Dom voice and she always perked up when she heard that particular depth to the way her husband spoke. There had been moments where that voice came out in other contexts, and outside of that special venue of their relationship, the commanding tone always made her giggle.

It was in only those select situations, those special moments where Julie let it cut through her like softened butter, leaving her a pliable mess of puddy. This was one of these moments. She had been eager to know what he would be getting her to wear, one part of her like a child on Christmas eager to open their presents, another part of her blushing with a mix of fear and anticipation at the level of depravity she knew that Erik could sink to if he wanted to.

She remembered times before where Erik had left her something to wear around the house. It was always the same procedure. Erik would let her know that there would be something waiting for her, either minutes, hours, or in this case days ahead of time. After that came the anticipation. Julie remembered days at work just waiting to get home, while simultaneously dreading the embarrassment. At this point, the two feelings had gotten so melded together, so mixed into one, that she had a hard time differentiating between them.

All she knew was that when Erik texted her those words, asking her to wear what he had chosen for her, a throbbing heat radiated through her. It was one of the ways he still gave her butterflies, in her stomach, in her heart, and in between her pretty, pink pussy lips.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Fuck, his fingers were so needy. His touch so hungry. He seemed starved for her, and it had Julie dissolving at the seams. Erik's fingers pushed in and out of her with a steady, rhythmic pace. There was a soft gushing sound around his strong knuckles as her folds took him inside their wet warmth, over and over and over again. His lips were all over her, leaving Julie unable to keep up at times.

She tried to keep her mind sharp, tried to be there, to participate. How could she be expected to do all that when her mild was melting? Erik had plunged his fingers inside her, filling her up and stretching her out, teasing her velvet walls. She knew that it was to make her ready for him, to prepare her for what was to come, and the anticipation was killing her. She mewled and groaned against Erik's neckline, her body writhing under his.

She was a ball of yarn coming undone underneath him, until the moment his fingers slipped from her insides and found her clit. Immediately she froze. Her back shot up straight with those first few circular touches, her breath hitched in her throat like an elevator stuck between two floors. Just one little touch, one sensual, deep, loving, and affectionate touch on that hard, greedy little button, made the brain fog that had been building through her dissipate and crystallise into shards of fireworks, exploding through her entire being.

As his strong fingers circled her clitoris, Julie felt electric. She had a pulse of current running through her, stiffening her muscles, and sending shocks of spasm through her insides at each rotation of his touch around her exposed nerve endings.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

There had been the time, a Sunday morning, where Julie had just come home from an errand and Erik met her in the hallway, a warm smile on his face but the glimmer of a secret in his eyes. He had let her know there was something waiting for her on their bed, and when she went to see, she had found an assortment of boxes laid out across their bed spread. That time, there had been a black, lace set of lingerie, coupled with a white, laced apron. The last box had a small, black and white feather duster in it to complete the look.

She had left the bedroom dressed as the world's most inappropriate maid, and Erik had put her to work. He had her cleaning for him for a little bit, watching her move across the room from the couch. However, it hadn't been long before she dropped the dusting and the cleaning for a completely different job, much more focused on polishing.

Then there had been the time during the soccer world cup. This day it just so happened that their respective teams were playing against each other, and it had been their plan to watch the game together. There had been some friendly banter during the week, but as Julie got home that evening, it had all taken a much less platonic route.

Prepared for her was a soccer jersey, a pair of novelty, supporter panties, and a pair of sporty, white knee-high socks, all in the colours of Erik's team. She had never been a huge soccer fan, she honestly didn't care, but as she walked out to the living room wearing the opposing teams colours, she had felt such a beautifully deep sense of embarrassment and national shame, all the while the blue and yellow underwear grew more and more ruined.

As she had cuddled up next to her partner in front of the TV, to Erik's warm smile and the embrace of his strong arm, she had wondered if she was anticipating his team winning and giving him a reason to celebrate, or if the state of her insides was because of the thought of them losing, and her being right there for him to take out his frustrations on.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

She could feel the pent-up need in his touch, and she was right there to take it. Their play had been urgent and greedy. They had played nice for far too long, sitting across from each other in that hotel bar, acting all civil when they both knew what the other needed. They had barely gotten their clothes off, but they were already so deeply intwined.

Like pulling up for air, Erik sat up and looked down at his wife, laying splayed out on the bed. He watched her chest rise and fall in heavy breaths, while his own deep inhalations did their best to keep up with the surging energy flowing through him and the blood flowing all kinds of places. He licked his lips, a feigned seriousness suddenly washed over him.

"Now I don't know if you're just acting up... or if my instructions weren't clear enough for that little brain of yours..."

He licked his lips and collected himself, taking a beat before he went on. There was a moment where his serious face faltered, and a spark of playfulness glimmered in his eyes. It was only for an instant but it let Julie know where their play was heading, and that it was play. Erik sucked in air between clenched teeth before he continued, putting on his best face of feigned disappointment.

"When I tell you to wear what I've picked out for you, I expect you to wear everything I've picked out for you... to do as you're told..."

His grip was around her waist as he stood kneeling, looking down over her splayed body. As he spoke, she could feel his strong hands tighten around her, holding her in place, pinning her to the bed. Julie's face had turned soft from a firstly defiant look of eager lust to an apologetic mix of big, green eyes and a softly pouting set of full lips.

"I'm sor..."

She was cut off by Erik's strong hands lifting her off the bed in a soft bounce and pushing her up against the soft pillows that lay against the headboard. She let out a yelp as some air was pushed out of her but she soon recollected herself. There had been an assertive physicality to Erik's move, and now that he stood watching her at the foot of the bed, she couldn't find the words to continue.

She sat with her legs spread, her dress hitched up around her hips, and her back pinned against the soft cushioning of the large hotel bed. Erik watched her with intense eyes, before she saw him bow down onto all fours and begin to slowly, painfully slowly, crawl up towards her. His voice was a growl when he spoke, a needy rumbling of deep desire, mixed in with that reprehensive tone from before. It all sent shivers down Julie's spine, making her freeze in place, not daring to close her legs.

"I know you're not dumb, baby... so if you're only being defiant to act up, I'll just have to fuck that attitude out of you..."

She was still wearing those high heels and they dug into the mattress of the bed as Julie sat in anticipation. As Erik crawled up closer to her, he stopped and kneeled between her legs, sitting up straight as he looked down over her. The collected and well-groomed image of the business professional was gone. His shirt was coming untucked from his unzipped trousers, the top few buttons were undone, and his chest was visibly heaving.

The man licked his lips as he looked down across the woman, as if sizing up the meal he had in front of him. Then, slowly and with a careful but assertive touch, Erik reached down and grabbed his wife's ankle. Wrapping his digits firmly, he lifted her leg up and planted the sole of her shoe against his strong chest. The heel pressed against the fabric and flesh, but he only pushed his chest out and met the pressure. With her propped up like this, he slowly took his time stroking her leg, up and down, with his warm touch across her tanned skin.

His eyes had been on hers, but as he begun caressing her, his attention was quickly stolen by her slender leg. His eyes ran along it, following the touch of his fingers. There was a palpable silence between them, where only their heavy breathing filled the room. Erik moved like an artisan, inspecting a fresh piece of canvas for his next painting and there was a concentrated air of reverence that Julie didn't want to break.

However, when his touch ran down the inside of her thigh, there was little she could do to not suck in air sharply, inhaling in a whimper as his touch grazed along her more sensitive parts. Her sex was aching for more of that touch, for more of Him, but the delayed gratification was painfully delicious in its slow longing.

Eventually, Erik moved his touch up to the fastenings of her stiletto, the thin straps that wrapped up and around her ankle. They were secured by a small, golden fastening and Erik took the small mechanism between his fingers and swiftly undid it. Then, unwrapping her like a Christmas gift, he undid the straps until they hung from the rest of the shoe, making only the pressure against his chest keep it on her foot.

Using two hands, he grabbed the heel with one hand and her ankle with the other, and softly pulled the shoe off. After throwing it to the side of the bed, Erik softly placed her foot down only to repeat the process on her other foot. Propping her leg up against his chest, he took her shoe of and let it follow its mate to the side. This time, however, he let the sole of her foot softly rest back against his chest.

Wrapping his grip around her ankle, he lifted her leg up and pressed it up tall. Julie was flexible enough, and Erik had paid for enough yoga lessons to know it. Holding her leg in front of him, the man begun to trace her skin with his lips, kissing her and caressing her softly. His tongue ran against her goose bumped flesh as his grip dug into her strong thigh muscles. Erik let out a needy groan, a lustful sigh with desire as he breathed in the scent of her skin.

Moving down, he planted kisses all along her leg, softly and to not tickle her as he passed behind her knee. As he moved, Erik lowered himself down, following along the curvature of her leg as he tasted her. She had his full, undivided attention as he moved towards his final target. He finally sunk down into the mattress, splaying his knees out to lower himself to her wet, flushed sex. His lips moved from the inside of her thigh where the tip of his tongue had danced across the goose bumps, to that softly heaving mound between her legs.

He took in the warmth of her, that needy heat that radiated off her like the sun. Much like that burning orb, Erik felt his world gravitate around this very point, and he neither could nor wanted to resist its pull. He planted soft kisses along her folds, grazing her labia with the tip of his nose, nuzzling himself into her and taking in her taste. She had a beautiful, salty need that dripped from her insides and Erik let his tongue run up across her slit in broad strokes, lapping at her pink, wet pussy.

He groaned and pushed his head further, pressing his tongue inside his wife to taste her deeper, and his deep growl was matched by a mewling moan slipping from the lips of his woman. Julie felt breathless, as if each of her husband's moves only allowed for so much air to pass through her lungs. Her breathing was heavy, panting, and mixed in with soft moans and guttural groans. The way he played with her sex sent shivers up her body, making her feel electric while at the same time having her weak and melting.

She bucked her hips up towards him, allowing more of her for his tongue to explore in a needy push. She couldn't tell if this was supposed to be her punishment and as the thought of Erik keeping her there in that state of desperation, made a shiver run through her and a cold ball form in her stomach. The air pressed out of her, she needed more. More. There was a sudden rush of need that rushed through her but all that came from her lips was a soft, pleading sound.

"Pleasee.."

For the first time in the last few minutes, Erik's eyes tore from between her spread legs and looked up at her with a warmth that made that coiled up ball of wires in Julie's stomach untangle and melt away. His look was affectionate and soft, but with an amused tingle to it. He loved seeing her like this and his incessant teasing had no doubt been to push her to this state. He had a cheeky smirk on his lips as he pulled away for a second to smile up at her.

He knew the effect he had on her and what she needed from him. He knew how to give it to her and he wanted to do so. He had teased her with his fingers, his lips, and now his tongue, and as much as he loved watching those coils inside her tighten and turn, Erik that she deserved the release she so desperately needed. He had been selfish, greedily taking in her perfect pussy, raveling it how beautiful it was and savouring the taste for himself, not taking into consideration the effect he had on his wife.

Playing with her body was all fun and games, but at the pleading command of his wife, Erik smirked a sheepish smile and met her eyes with his.

"You're so fucking gorgeous when you get this wet for me..."

His voice was husky, low as if in a whisper between the two lovers. There was no one else there, but they still shared their affection as if hiding it between the two of them, in their own special universe. He quickly muffled his voice by pushing his lips up against Julie's sex, hungrily kissing it and focusing back on her pleasure, her wet desire. He kissed up along her labia, warm, deep, and wet kisses. His tongue played along her folds, lapping up and down in slow, methodical strokes.

Looking down at her husband, Julie watched him get to work, a more serious expression on his face now. She breathed out a sigh of pleased, shuddering ecstasy, before she let her head fall back and relax against the pillows. She could feel each stroke of his tongue send shivers down her legs, making her toes curl, as if his tongue was playing on piano strings running up and down her body.

Her wet sex was his instrument and each expert touch, each lick, and every kiss was a new note that combined into the melody playing throughout her body. The rhythm slowly picked up, the music becoming more intense as Erik paced himself to match her deep breaths. She had tried staying in control, slowly keeping her breathing to a slow, filling beat. However, as he ate her out more hungrily, her breathing and soft, mewling sighs, turned from controlled pleasure to desperate signs of her own unraveling.

She let out moans and little throaty groans, the air in her lungs pushing out of her as she felt her core tighten up and contract. Then, breathing in she felt like she could only catch shallow, quick breaths through clenched teeth.

Erik had wrapped his strong arms under her ass, and around her thighs, holding her in place. She wasn't going anywhere, but the feeling of his secure hold made Julie melt into where she lay. She had rarely felt comfortable with men going down on her. There was the constant pressure to reassure them of what good boys they were, managing their performance anxiety while at the same time keeping up with their way too aggressive, porn-inspired onslaught on her poor pussy.

The feeling that she had to perform for these men, make them feel better about themselves, and try and cum even though they were nowhere near getting her there, had always haunted her in previous relationships and meets. Then there was the expectation of reciprocity. The number of men she had met who went down on her for a minute or two, expecting her to be flabbergasted by their frankly disappointing skills, and then drop to her knees with a sparkling look of devoted gratitude and suck their cocks as if the cure for cancer lied in the end of it.

With Erik however, she had been able to build up a trust over the year. He had always made it clear that he went down on her because of his own lust, because he liked the taste and touch of her, and because of his own desire to give her pleasure. Now when she lay there, legs spread on the large hotel bed, and the skimpy dress she had put on for him curled up around her waist, she could feel the safety in his hands and his desire in his tongue. She licked her lips and relaxed, feeling herself rest in the knowledge that he wanted this, and that she wanted this.