Emily and her husband go to a seaside resort and he claims her hairless pussy.
I lay there beside you, running my fingertips down my torso as I listen to your regular breaths. The rise and fall of your chest excites me. I trace the indent at my belly button, stifling a laugh as I remember your cum pooling there the night before we left for the resort.
Oh, the look on your face as you undressed me tonight, slipping my coverup off my shoulders as I straddled you on the couch in this outrageous seaside suit, the windows open, the sound of distant revelers, the waves. I untied the neck strap, letting the fabric fall as you pulled me into you, your unshaved chin and cheeks nuzzled between my breasts.
You kissed me… Lord, how I love your gentle but insistent kisses on my skin. I held your head in my hands, resting my elbows on your shoulders as you kissed between them, then one, then the other.
Your hands were not idle, you easily found the loosening end of my top’s back strap. A gentle tug and I was yours.
It’s always like that with you, a little force and I yield, a little push and I go over. I could never deny you anything. I calculated the cost and paid it willingly; you are mine, paid for with nothing less than all of me. It has been a bargain and my only fear is that you will discover you’d gotten less than you’ve given in it.
Your lips moved to my left breast as your hands slid down my back. Strong fingers on strong hands, capable of great violence but gentle there and then. You engulfed my areola and teased my nipple with your tongue. Your hands were firmly kneading my lower back; possessively letting my soft skin move along your fingers and palms.
Possessive… You continuously claim me, taking my body as your own, dressing me in the things that please you and serve you and I do the same, marking you with me. Every inch of fabric that covers your body chosen and cared for by me. No one looking at you or catching a scent of you would think other than “he is Emily’s.” And, when we are alone together, you do not hesitate, do not ask for permission, do not need to do so, for I am yours, a contented and happy slave to my love and need.
You slid your hands down my hips, easily finding the loosing ends that held the bottoms above my pelvis. In a moment, all that I was wearing was loosely laying on me. I felt your need, the urgency expressed through motions and tension rather than words. There was a discordance between the soft regularity of the waves and you. You lifted me in your arms as you stood, and you turned to lay me down on the bed.
In that fluid movement, my bikini top and bottom fell to the floor. Oh the delight!
Surprising you is one of my favorite things. That moment when I have done something unexpected, declaring my independence, amidst my blissful dependence, is always a moment of joy and I felt that then, when you observed my waxed mons and sex.
You had been hinting at that preference for some time, for me going hairless, but I had a strange fondness for my soft chestnut curls, that last vestige of my life before you. It was a selfish thing, a petty thing and not one you dwelt on, but I recognized that there was this thing you wanted that I was denying you and I could no longer reconcile that with my love for you.
Did it hurt? Yes, it was among the more painful experiences I have had but more painful to me was denying myself you that night. It was late anyway and we had an early flight. You were satisfied with me kneeling before you, my bare chest jutting forward like the prow of ships in port, your penis sliding in and out of my mouth.
G-d, I love you! You are the head of our little family, my protector, my lord, my friend, my lover, my husband, and your needs are my needs.
I knew your need, I knew it primarily from your texts, the tension in the lines, the firmness and resolution in your decisions. You were in “must get things done, I have responsibilities” mode and I did not hesitate in my duty.
I did all that a wife should do for a husband who has done everything he could for her so that he would not be distracted during our long weekend. I was wearing the lovely black top that ties in the back that you love so much, my bare midriff above a long silk skirt. I greeted you with a kiss on your cheek, covertly silencing your phone as I took it and your bag to your office.
You looked exhausted as you sat down in your chair to go through the mail, carefully arranged on your table. I brought you your whiskey, two fingers of Larceny with just a drop of spring water, slightly warmed as it sat beside the stove to breathe. I stood behind you, ridiculously “massaging” muscles I am powerless to move with my slight strength.
You reached up and drew my face down to yours, pushing your tongue between my teeth as we kissed, signaling your specific need within the context of our relationship’s dance.
I deftly untied the belt behind my back and slipped my shirt over my head. I came around the chair as you stood, and I knelt before you. Your hands on your hips, you allowed me to unbuckle and unbutton your linen slacks. As I drew the zipper down, they fell to your feet in a rush. I kissed your thigh, twirling my tongue in the hairs as I hooked my forefingers in the waistband of your athletic boxers and drew them down your muscular thighs.
Your manhood never ceases to amaze me. It is perfect. It is long and thick, and it does the most delightful things. At that moment though, it was the embodiment of your need and the focus of my service as your wife. I took the head into my lips and licked the precum off the tip. Your groan excited me. It always does. It is the affirmation I need to satisfy my longing to be wholly yours.
As I took more and more of you in me, I could feel the tension rising in your thighs as I steadied myself with my hands against them. You pushed in as I pulled you in and pulled out as I resisted you doing so. My lips were stretched around you, carefully shielding your skin from my teeth. I could feel your urgency, the need for release and I subordinated my desire to tease you, to prolong this moment. Faster and faster you drove in and pulled out of my lips until you demanded “in you or on you?”
I wanted you to cum on me, to feel your cum splatter in my hair and spoil my makeup but I know that few things relieve you more than me sucking in every drop of your lovely, slightly sour seed so I kept at it. Your hands were in my hair as you pushed in one last time and, with a groan, released your cum in my mouth.
I am always surprised by the volume. Nearly every day, I drain your body of its cum. Whatever time of the month I am in, you cum in or on me and, yet, there is always so much more! I have a secret though: I feed you so much pineapple because I love how it makes you taste, that slightly sweet, mostly sour saltiness is delicious to me.
You came in me, and I swallowed every drop, licking you clean as I felt the tension leave you. I fell back on my ankles as you sat heavily back in your chair.
“You are amazing” is all you said and nothing you could have said would have been more satisfying to me.
I stood and retrieved my top. I began to put my top back on. “No, please leave it off” you said, more of a command than a request. I smiled, happy to strut around your lovely home as a part of your art collection.
While you pulled up your pants and became better arranged, I finished dinner, making sure your steak and asparagus, salad, cheese, and pecans were just as you liked them, arranging your place across from me so that you wanted for nothing. I called you to dinner and we engaged in the normal banter of family life.
I am sure friends would be astonished to learn that I am content to be so completely yours. It doesn’t at all trouble me. I love the attention you give me, and I love you for the life that you have made for us. I am a kept woman, happily so, and eating topless across from you is no burden.
As I cleaned up, you fondled my breasts, teasing me, distracting me from my work. I did not brush it away. I loved the feel of your hardening cock against my back as you gently massaged my nipples between your calloused forefingers and thumbs. It was dangerous though for I knew what must follow, how you must slide your hands down between my panties and skin, to discover that I had waxed away my hair.
I needed to intervene, and I turned to face you, seeking to drop to my knees, but you stopped me. “No, not like this. I want you on the bed.” Again, a just demand of me so I let you lead me to our room and sat down on the bed. “Please let me deep throat you” I intoned. I saw that smile light up your face and knew I had won. I laid down on my back, sliding a pillow under my neck to give you just the right angle. In a moment your cock was in my mouth. I relaxed my throat to give you full access, angling myself such that you could take the long strokes you enjoy.
It never takes long when we do this and you were soon pistoning gently into me, your seven inches sliding comfortably into my throat, as you groaned in enjoyment. Your speed increased and, with it, your forcefulness. It is those last moments which are uncomfortable for me because you are not so gentle, but they are soon over, and you pulled out of my mouth shooting your cum over me. Your first shots landed on my skirt, but the majority landed on my torso and breasts, with a little of what remained, jacked out on my lips, chin, and cheeks.
I lay there for a moment, reveling in the feeling of your seed laid out on me. You stripped out of your clothes and laid there beside me, taking me in and breathing in the musky scent of our sex. You looked so sleepy and that made me happy. I was satisfied to have been able to take you from your stressed state to sleepiness with just such as we had done.
I am She and I have magical powers to heal you.
I made a mental picture of me there, in the despoiled condition you left me, and then I stood. I took one of your t-shirts from the stack of folded laundry at the end of our bed and cleaned off your cum before going into the bathroom to do a more proper job. There, I slipped off my skirt and slipped on my robe. When I returned, your regular breaths told me you were asleep. I pulled the covers back and whispered that you should move over a bit. When you did so, I slipped them over you and turned off the light.
These recent memories are burned into my mind, just like every other memory, of every moment with you. They are as rich in detail and clarity as living experience and I feel and sense now, precisely what I felt and sensed then. As you stand over me now, my body laid bare before you, the distant sounds of couples drinking and dancing to island sounds as a backdrop, I love your surprise. Your lips broaden into a wide smile as you behold my perfectly shaved pubic mound and tummy, my discrete slit bared for the first time to you.
“Wow!” you exclaim and, in that one word, carry to me thousands of words of adoration. You are not a man given to speaking mindlessly. Your words always have import, for you do not express yourself without intentionality and, in your exclamation at my nakedness, you affirm your love and admiration. I could not love you more. To love you more would be to cease to be for I have given you all that I am. She is yours and wishes nothing more and, in this moment, She is entirely content.
You strip quickly, never pulling your eyes away from your prize. Like one who has wrested a kingdom’s jewels away, you behold and lust after the treasure you now possess.
I stretch my arms far above my head, elongating my diminutive frame, making She as big as I can be, as long as is possible in my 5’3” frame. All 110 pounds of me is laid out before you. My body is electric; I feel a burning need for you that emanates from my clit, and up into my belly. From there, pulses race to my sinews. I have to move, or I should burn up! Moving, stretching my petite body before you on the bed releases, in the smallest of ways, the building tension but I am a volcano, yearning for the trigger which will cause an explosion.
You know my need and know every trigger, everything that makes me ravenous. You know how much I love it when you hold my wrists in your hand above my head, how attention to the hyper-sensitive skin below my nipples excites me, how flipping me on my belly and pulling my hips up into a kneeling position turns me into a crazed slut for you. And you know how much just a few minutes of attention to my pussy will leave me begging for every inch of you, yearning for you to take me hard and fast.
It is this that my waxed pubic mons invites and you do not long delay.
Oh Lord, do I love it when you take possession of me! You grab my knees and pull them up to your shoulders as you push my body up on the bed so that you can kneel on the bed, between my legs. You firmly hold me there, my knees against your ears as you push your face down and forward to nuzzle your chin against my perfectly smooth sex. Your tongue darts out, separating my folds.
I am dripping with that lovely combination of your saliva and my cum. You seem to savor the taste, showing that gusto that urges me on. Each second bringing me closer to the first seismic event. Oh, and when it comes, you feel it, you feel my thighs and abdomen tense up. I moan out loud, heedless of whether someone walking on the beach or going to their room will hear me. Unconscious of any proprieties, a lady, utterly subjugated to her master.
You continue, unsatisfied with that small expression of desire that has passed to quickly through me. You tighten your control of my legs as you drive your tongue into my hole and sweep up to my clit. Reaching it, you pull sharply back and twirl your tongue around me. The second quake is upon me; it flows up from my sex and through my torso. My shoulders tense and my arms involuntarily spasm as I cum. “Oh, my G-d! I need you, now, please” but you are not done with me and I am yours. My need can only grow and you are enjoying this far too much to satisfy my need too quickly.
You flatten out your tongue, running it from hairless perinium to clit. You do so slowly, controlling my thrashing with your firm grasp of my thighs. You seem to revel in my helpless spasming from your ministrations as my orgasm builds and builds. It is time.
You release me for a moment, dropping my pelvis to the soft bed as you reposition yourself to take me. You slide your cock along my dripping slit as you slide your hands up my torso, along the sides of my breasts and up my arms. You are insistent, pulling my arms up above my head until you can hold my thin wrists in just one of your large hands. With the other, you guide yourself into me.
Oh, your entrance! It is triumphant, unapologetic, a conqueror seizing a vanquished city, She’s gates battered down on our wedding night, my gate house standing in impotent witness to this latest intrusion. I cum, loudly, fully, excitedly. There is no doubt that anyone within a thousand yards of us has heard me scream out your name.
You are kissing me, hungrily. I’m accustomed to tasting me on you and accept your tongue, taste and smell, greedily. I’m utterly in your control and you ravish me, again taking possession of my body, mind and soul. You are driving into me with hard and long strokes that fill me and then pull almost all the way out, before rushing to fill me again. You are ploughing a well-known field, digging deep, preparing to plant your seed, and I am ripe, like rich deep lowland soil, reveling in the disruption.
You drive in faster and faster, each thrust betraying your recklessness, itself a most curious thing; for, you are a deliberate man, one of self-control and decision… Except with me. With me, like this, you let yourself go, using me, despoiling me, accepting my gift of She as a right, due you by nature and divine authority.
Your girth fills me, your length provides access to my womb as you push as deeply into me as nature will allow. I am utterly taken with you, utterly needful of you, and a tsunami of excitement is upon me. I can feel it in you too. Long usage has made me particularly sensitive to your movements and sounds and I know you are about to fill my womb with your seed but, when it comes, it surprises me.
It always does.
You come in me with force, your tightening of your hand on my wrists mirroring your control of my sex. I feel my pussy awash with your seed as you growl in my ear “If only you weren’t on the pill.” In your words, you sum up the whole of our relationship, one of duty, honor, role, and love. I am yours and I am on the pill because you do not believe we are ready for a baby. You will decide when that will be and I will accept that determination because it is inextricably tied to fulfilling one another’s needs and desires, a perfect melding of our roles and a perfect expression of our love.
I cum with you, my volcano exploding with force as you bring me to an orgasm. Were your grip on me less, my body would be arching off the bed but, instead, waves of pleasure and electricity dance through my body. You feel each muscle tighten and relax as the tsunami breaks my separateness from you. I cum powerfully, as you do, our explosive desires melding into a single, unifying singularity.
It is powerful, it is momentary, and it is gone but its effects are invigorating and durable. In a few seconds, you will slide off my body and I will curl up on your broad chest, my right leg draped over yours and my breasts pressed into your side. Your right arm will cradle my head and firmly grasp my right hip but, for now, we are united in a pure act of love, a pure display of master and servant.
I love you and you love me and there is nothing of this that I can do without.