Twisted Psalms

She crawled toward him across the carpet. Hands and knees scraping against the rough fiber, every muscle in her body screamed the words that lay between them—words which neither of them would ever voice. He was her master, even if she would never call him that.

Reaching her destination, she rubbed her cheek against the line of his inner thigh. Face turned inward so that her lips could brush against the cruel material of his jeans as her hands slid up over ankles, calves and knees. She pushed his legs apart so that she could slide between them. "Love..." Her voice was more timid than the lips and throat which shaped it. " Are you coming to bed? We're cold." He pretended not to hear her, fingers continuing to jab at his keyboard. Eyes fixated on the screen before him. She nipped at his pant leg.

"Michael."

He continued to studiously ignore her. An imp-like grin spread over her face as her fingers deftly moved to his waistband. If that was how he wanted to play it...

She licked a slow, deliberate line from just above the zipper of his jeans to just below the dip of his belly-button. Lips pressed against the furnace of his stomach, the grin grew larger.

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want..." with each word her lips brushed against his stomach, breath tickling his skin. "He maketh me to lie down in green pastures..." Sure, swift fingers unfastened his pants. Warm, nearly feverish lips moved down his stomach, kissing just above the semi-turgid elastic holding his boxers. "He leadeth me beside still waters." Her tongue dipped beneath the elastic band. "He restoreth my soul." Teeth were added to the equation, grazing delicately against his skin as she tugged his underwear down with her mouth. "Ye, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me. Thy rod..." her fingers slipped around his now prominent cock for emphasis, as she grinned wickedly up at him, catching the attention that had wandered away from his computer screen. His eyes snapped back to the screen, but not before a similar grin began to grow on his lips. "And thy staff..." Her lips predictably wrapped around his head, tongue moving tantalizingly slow.

Never taking more than an inch and a half in her mouth, her head bobbed and turned. Tongue swirling, flicking and teasing as she continued to recite the passage every good little Christian girl is taught, around his swollen cock. At each pause, her tongue would curl up to press against the spot where head and shaft joined, moaning convincingly as she rocked against his ankle.

He held out longer than she thought he would, a testament to his overwhelming personal control. But eventually the force of water won out. His fingers tugged through her hair, the sensation of a self-satisfied grin wrapped around his cock caused him to moan louder, as he gave his dirty little slut exactly what she wanted.

Forcing his cock into her throat, relieving her of breath as he worked to relieve the tension she'd worked so hard to cultivate. His breath came in short staccato bursts as her sweet mouth stretched obscenely around him. Just as she felt his balls clench against her neck, she with the sudden happiness she felt whenever he came for her. Her moan turned to a whimper as he stood, pulling himself out of her throat. He took three deep, calming breaths.

She whimpered, producing a picture perfect pout.

"Michael?"

He looked down at her, hair mussed by his hands, her mouth wet, and eyes hungry. She trembled visibly, unable to look away.

"Stand." He said, the volume and tenor of his voice belying the forcefulness of his command. She rose to her feet, still looking up at him. He placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her just enough that when he pushed, she sat down on his computer chair, rather than the ground. With a cruel, careless gesture, he tugged at her wrap, casting it on the floor with a disregard that made the woman who belonged to him shiver again. He smiled as goosebumps that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room pricked the flesh of her shoulders, forearms and breasts. One hand wrapping around her throat, he tugged at the only piece of clothing she still wore. The force of it snapped the thin ribbon of her panties. They too landed on the floor, completely forgotten as his fingers traced over her swollen lower lips. His touch was torturous. Slow, methodical. She arched up against his fingers. He tightened his grip on her throat, schooling her instincts. Without warning, he slid three fingers inside of her, forcing her to stretch around him. She struggled to gasp beneath his fingers, drawing in a shallow breath instead, feeling it rasp against the weight of his thumb. Another finger forced its way inside her, followed too quickly by his thumb. She arched against both of his hands, her vision growing dull. As her lips began to lose their cherry ripeness, growing first purple, then blue, he lessened his hold on her neck, thrusting against her with his other hand. She moaned, writhing beneath him. Losing herself in the sensation despite the half-surprised look that was frozen on her face.

He twisted his fist inside her, the sensation forcing her shoulders forward and her head back. He smiled up at her half-lidded eyes, releasing her neck. His hand moved to press against the inside of her knee as his face moved between her legs. Her eyes flew open, a strange blend of terror and longing filling her eyes.

"No... please... don't." She trembled, this time more from fear than arousal. The wet, slippery mess around his fist drying up, making every movement and thrust raw, delightfully tight and irresistibly painful, she moaned, growing wetter despite herself. His tongue dipped between her lips, tasting her. She jerked, as if jolted by electricity. He moaned against her, his tongue demanding, his fist forcing her up against his lips and tongue.

"pet... come for me." She did, over and over again. Her body wracked by each wave, spilling out over his hand, clenching painfully around him each time. His fist inside her made her look three months pregnant, and as he watched the satisfied glow infuse her face he felt an all-to-familiar tugging at the base of his stomach. She looked up at him, and seeing a look she recognized instantly, dropped to her knees and pulled his cock into her mouth just in time. The first spurt hit the back of her throat and she moaned, pressing her tongue against the length of his cock, milking out every last drop.

Sitting back on her ankles she smiled up at him, that self-satisfied grin plastered over her face.

"Ready for dinner then?"