Bad Girls & Dangerous Men
Bad Girls & Dangerous Men
I wake, feeling the warmth of Bailey's crotch behind me. His sensuous pulse transmits through my ass into my cunt. I turn, kiss his rough face, the night's growth of beard, and wait for him to open his eyes, which happens slowly. I inspect him, waiting, wondering what he's been dreaming, if he dreams. Everyone dreams, but does he remember his? I've never asked. Three months, I'm still in awe. He wants me with him every night and every morning when he wakes. Few men says these things aloud. Bailey does.
"Mornin', sugar," I say sweetly.
He growls a bit, then smiles.
"It's early, you don't have to get up yet," I tell him.
"What's the time?"
"Time to fuck," I giggle, and wiggle on him, nuzzling into his side, smelling the rich flavors of his body-the sour, the sweet, the tart, the aromas of leftover sex from a very good night. I'm still wearing the bondage dress he wove on my body the night before. The knots are still place, including the one just above my clitoris that stimulates it every time I move. My flesh pulses, radiating with need.
There's an open place where the ropes go through my crotch, open for Bailey's cock to pass between. As I squirm against him, my hand floats around his scrotum-playfully avoiding a direct assault on his rising organ. I let the momentum build.
In minutes, his whole body is engaged, coming after me as passionately as I go after him. Our lips lock; our tongues reach inside the other's mouth. My legs scissor to fit the enormity of him inside me. I feel the ropes strain with every movement. My skin's alive, as animate as another being, tingling, raw, sensitive to even the slightest graze of his palm. I rise on top of him as he rolls over on his back, and begin to hump in the saddle of his hips. Bailey's cock slides freely inside the messy interior of my vagina. The accumulation of old semen, wet female remains and fresh dew merge to lubricate the ride. He's fast, and I follow with him, allowing my body to swell and then burst brightly with orgasm, knowing that Bailey's climax will follow seconds later.
He comes just as my tremors are departing, while I'm left with the prickly remnants and the well-being that floods even my addled head-at least for awhile.
I collapse against him in a languorous faint when the fucking is over, and run my hands absently through his hair. I'm about to say, 'I love you', when he suddenly pushes me away and jumps from bed on his way to the bath.
"Sorry, Maddie, morning calls!" he yells to me.
I smile. I'll mention love later, I think. Now, I'm content to drift.
"Hey, sleepy head!" I hear Bailey's soothing roar knock me from my nap. "You're due at work by noon."
"Yes," I agree.
"You said you had errands?" he asked.
"I do." I remember that fact with a frown.
"Then I'll see you later. Noon on the dot,"-he's always reminding me to be on time. My stellar reputation for tardiness is one small sore spot in an otherwise pleasant relationship.
"What about the ropes?" I ask, staring up at him, realizing that he's ready for the beer hall, while I'm still naked, sweaty and streaked with last night's come and this morning's new batch. Still, I have two hours before I have to be at work, plenty of time for what I need to do.
"Leave them on," he says.
"Under my clothes?"
"Yes. Sponge your crotch and pits, put on a little perfume and wear them the rest of the day."
"You want me to be miserable?"
"Is it misery?"
Of course, it's not. I smile. "Maybe, a little..."
"You'll survive. You need a reminder of who's in charge, slut." His eyes twinkle playfully and then he's gone.
I feel the ribbons of crossed and knotted hemp when I walk. Their feel is comfortable, comforting, stimulating. I hardly slept the night enjoying their sensuous tug and jerk, and I let them titillate me now. This