The Dance

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Kathy meant something to him.
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Kathy breathed deep, waiting for Stephen to move again. She lay on her back, holding her legs at her knees, her feet pointed as he had instructed. Her pumps glistened in the candlelight; the stiletto ends in his strong hands. He had driven deep inside her, pushing till his balls rested against her ass, his hair ticklish on her anus as she waited for his next thrust. He held there instead, looking into her eyes. She had asked to play this game of submission and control, asked him help her fulfill yet another fantasy. He had been here before with another. But not with her, with Kathy his mind slipped out of gear a little. Kathy meant something to him, mattered more than this one night. He wanted to please as badly as she wanted to submit. They had danced around the subject till now.

He had told her what to wear, what to call him, what he would call her. Other than that it had all seemed familiar to her, like so many other times. She wondered if she had been mistaken, if he was simply afraid like so many others had been. He looked down at her, looked into her eyes to see if she was looking back. He wanted to know that she was in the moment, not merely passing through. He waited inside her, his cock twitching from tension, her lips milking at him, making him weak. Her head was back, eyes screwed shut as she pushed her hips up to meet him again. He again pulled back, just waiting. He drew her head up, fingers knotted in her hair. His lips were on her ear, his breath wet, warm.

"Ask me Kathy, ask..." he said.

"Sir? ask?....I ...I don't underst...." He pulled out then, her opening greedily protesting the vacuum. She stayed open for a moment, till her muscles closed her again. The emptiness seemed raw, like a burning. Kathy's mind raced trying to understand what he had been saying

"If you want this Kathy, ask me for it." He was just resting his cock on her clit now, her juices wet on his shaft, causing them to stick together now, glued in place.

"Oh yes Sir, please. Please, , Please...." She said it with her eyes open wide, the desire he had aroused shedding her usual girlish inhibitions aside. Now she did want him, wanted to feel that she was his.

With his push back in she sighed, full again, his weight on her comforting. He again held her heels, pulling her legs apart wide, pumping in a slow steady drumbeat. Kathy tried to buck up farther, get him to go in deeper. He simply smiled, leisurely enjoying his own pace. He went just slow enough to stall her building orgasm; his rhythm just off at times as he felt her contract, her mouth open and pleading. She squirmed as he teased her, made her emotions roll in her head like marbles. She gasped at the thrusts deep inside, gasped as he left her at times, open, the air kissing her labia. She felt like she was melting, falling out of herself as she went with what he wanted. His hips still bit her as they slapped. Stephen brought her to her knees, her ass presented for him like a peach. The red cleft full again, her cheeks soft in his hands, the skin pale. He pushed faster, in rhythm now, drawing out her orgasm. This dance was what he wanted, this tango of want and denial.

His back was covered in sweat; it ran down his face as he concentrated. She was so warm inside, her pussy so wet, sucking as she lay before him. He had to close his eyes, to block the vision of her, her face, her breasts, the smell of her vulva as he filled it. Her beauty weakened his resolve, made him weak when he knew she wanted his strength, his command. He felt his cum building. He stopped again, dipping down still never letting her go. He held her feet as he suckled her, nursed at her flowing opening. Her smell was musk, the flow tart, acrid on his tongue. He thought he wanted to live on it, nothing else, just her. He traced his tongue over her, smiling as he tried to write his name with his tongue on her clit, then hers. He spelled 'fuck me' the same way, her orgasms gushing again into his mouth. No longer in complete control now he pushed back in, draping her legs over his shoulders, the pressure in his balls to much to ignore again. He grunted his release, filling her again. Each rope he shot off inside closed off his vision, blurred his resolve. The bite of her nails on his back drew him back, pushed him to remember what she wanted. He ground into her harder then, harder, trying to crawl inside as he emptied himself fully, finally knowing the feeling that had been missing with the others. With them he had merely ended, nothing more. With her it was release, fulfillment.

She gasped at the heat she felt, so hot now, her insides coated with his seed. He slumped off, lying beside her to catch his breath. Rising up on his side he looked at her pussy. He just wanted to look at her again, drink her in before she burned away in a flash of memory. The lips were smooth, hairless. They were also red, engorged from exertion. They opened as he watched, her legs spreading, wanting his touch again. He slipped a finger in, feeling his own semen coating it. Another, then a third, her scooped his gift out, smiling as he watched her open her lips, take his wrist in her hand. She never looked away, all her fears gone. She wanted to show him how much she had loved this, loved him for trusting her, for being who she needed. Her lips smiled around his fingers, his taste settling down her throat. He held her tight, hugging her hotly. She pulled back then, her own body slick with sweat. In this light she seemed to glow, part pink, the rest golden. She handed him the gift she had purchased months ago, the gift she had never shown anyone else. She knelt down before him, her head bowed, waiting. Her mind danced as she felt the collar slipping around her throat. It was snug on her throat, the tension complete as it was cinched closed. He accepted her, as she had desired him, the dance ended, and beginning all at once.

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