Unwilling but Able Ch. 02

...and she became wild, she bucked her hips against me, she nearly crushed my skull with the force that she threw my head against her, she reached up a moment to tear her shirt open and throw her bra away and she stood over me naked, arching her back, tipping her head back, dynamic and alive and sexy and beautiful...

...and her orgasm began slow and low, she gasped and moaned brokenly, it started slow but it built, it built in intensity as my ministrations found more speed, more force, as I nibbled the panties to manipulate her labia and I poked my tongue with its lacy condom into her depths and I dragged the material with my tongue around her clit, around and around and over, around and around and over, faster, faster, deeper, rougher, and she came harder, and harder, louder and louder...

...suddenly she whipped the panties away, she tore them away to remove the barrier, and it was on: now I was tasting her, I wasn't tasting her slightly stale day-old juices but I was tasting her, and I felt the silken swollen wet hot softness of her sex against my tongue, my lips, my mouth, and I ate her, I ate her up, I ignored her earlier command and reached around to grab her arse and press her ever harder against me and she let me, she was gone, she was beyond thought and reason as she came for me, and came, and kept on coming...

...she was gone, she was utterly abandoned, she was wild and beastly and beautiful, her forcefulness and will had fallen away and now she was a woman in orgasm, she wanted it, she wanted me...

...she fell to the ground and pulled me over her, pushed me up past her hips -- not allowing me to fuck her as I so dearly wanted, maintaining at least that element of power over me -- but she did pull my cock into her mouth, and I came instantly, I came with a cry and a thrust of my hips as I hovered over her and she bore up and down on me, up and down, she held me in place and drank me and drank me, her fingers expertly falling behind my balls and milking my perineum, bringing forth each spurt with an exquisite abandoned holler from my lips...

...and then she'd had enough of my cock and my issue, she pushed me over roughly and climbed aboard me, sitting on my face and I brought her back to another orgasm very quickly, an orgasm that gradually began to abate as I slowed in my ministrations, as an intense and long-awaited afterglow fell upon me and I let her wind down, and she settled gladly back into exhaustion, and finally she raised her cunt off my face and moved back down lower upon me, sitting upon my chest, looking at me as I looked at her.

For a while, for ten seconds or so, I was seeing a different Valerie. This wasn't No-Vadge Valerie, bitch and boss, my tormentor and mistress -- this was 'Valerie', plain and simple, a Woman and nothing more.

For that moment, we shared in something. We shared in a joy, a wonder, a knowledge, a contentment heady and intoxicating. She looked at me, with a hint of appreciation and awe: looking with disbelief, amazed at what I could do to her, the heights I could raise her to, the talent I brought and the different kind of woman I helped her to feel like when she rode my face, she felt my tongue and she came for me, she came with me, she opened up to me and was not my mistress, but my equal -- a partner in joy and abandonment.

But it didn't last. 'Valerie' started to leave her face, and 'No-Vadge' came seeping back: a squint developed in her eye and the warmth switched off, replaced by a cold steely stare. And even though we sat together most intimately -- her cunt slick, hot, moist and open, pressed against my belly as she sat straddled atop me -- she regained the look of propriety, the ownership, the look of a mistress ready to beat her slave into submission once again; as though by pinning me down with her cunt, she was enforcing the power she held over me.

She beheld me thusly for a while longer, letting me wonder what my fate was to be, until finally, all that she said was: "Same time tomorrow."

It wasn't a question -- it was an order. I nodded, with a resigned sigh as my glumness began to return.

"Get up and help me find my clothes," she instructed as she rose to her feet. I did so, and she got dressed, and just like on Friday she forbade me to dress until she'd had her fill of me.

"Remember: don't you dare tell a fucking soul," she told me, once she was clothed and she made ready to leave. "If anyone ever hears about this: I will cut your balls off and I will post them to your mother. Understood?"

I nodded again, still trying to find the breath with which I might speak.

"Good. See you tomorrow, bitch."

Once she was gone, I crumpled inwards on myself, defeated yet again. But even so, a lot had happened that night, and it gave me to thought and to wonder...

She had unwittingly revealed some kind of self-directed revulsion, some sort of disgust for herself as shown by her hatred of the juices she produced from her pussy, her description of her own hot-and-heady scent as a "stench"; and again, just as in our first encounter, at the very height of her pleasure she had turned the tables and gone down on me, she took a sudden submissive and subservient turn in serving my need and drinking up every drop of my cum, spilling not a drop, once again trying to catch my eye as she did so, seeming to seek my love and approval in doing so... until once again, that side of her vanished, and No-Vadge Valerie returned with a roaring vengeance.

She was a woman of a million shades and complexities, that No-Vadge. But I was not in a position to muse upon them -- I was her bitch, her slave, I was totally under her control with no escape in sight, perhaps forever doomed to whatever humiliation or kink she pleased.

'Man,' I thought to myself, as I made ready to get dressed. 'What else could she possibly have me do?'