fuckhole

I grin, my cock twitching in your throat as you gag. My eyes are shining down into yours lustfully, while you hurt as  force your face into my crotch by your hair, your nose squashed against me so you can feel my cock-hair teasing it.

I love the way you look up at me at times like this. Your eyes simultaneously seem to beg me both for mercy and the opposite. I grin at the need I see growing in my barely dressed and fully exposed fucktoy. Your hands are caught behind your back in those pretty little pink cuffs and are moving helplessly in a futile attempt to somehow reach the visibly creaming cunt displayed to me between lewdly spread legs.

“Purr for me, pretty little she-animal” I order, grinning with the pleasure of knowing how even though it will spend precious air my perfect whore will eagerly do so anyway. The moment after I’m groaning, my head going back against my chair, my crotch pushed even a bit more into your face, my fingers tightening in your hair, hurting.

“God you’re such a pathetic little fuckhole” I groan, my voice thick with pleasure and sharp with the truth of what I’m pointing out. The moment after I’m pulling your hair painfully, jerking your face up and down my cock making you gag again and again as I bring myself off on you, pulling you painfully against me as I shoot deep in your throat once more pointing out what a beautiful little cum-chute you happen to be.

I allow you to keep on sucking and teasing my limpening tool while I go back to my reading, your own need saved for when I’m once more inspired to make you hurt. 

Deprivation

It is interesting how taking one thing away seems to enhance the rest, I muse as I watch your lips brushing carefully, tentatively, against the inside of my knee. It seems that both of us are simultaneously realizing the intricacies of my anatomy because you have to feel your way with your mouth, the silk fold I put over your eyes shielding them from our world, making all your other senses so much more important, so much more acute.

It is quite obvious how taking away your hands, so neatly cuffed behind your back, enhances the rest of your senses. Interesting how the use of hands, the feeling our way around, the support, the guidance afforded by them, is so intimately connected to what makes us feel ‘human’. Without the use of them you seem so much more like a pretty little animal, nudging and leaning your way towards your goal. Your whole body, your being, is involved in every movement, rather than the disconnect of reaching out, had your hands been free, as you feel your way up along my inner thigh. My rock-hard cock brushes against your temple, some pre-cum attaching itself to your hair, before you turn your head to make me feel your lips over my length.

I sigh, leaning back in my chair, the motion pushing my cock into your face. Even the fact that you are without clothes seems to give another quality to you, apart from the obvious pleasure of seeing all of you. You hold your body differently when unclothed and being seen, every part of you more aware of itself, more taut than if it was hidden behind clothes. There is a gracefulness to someone nude, a heightened awareness of each little part of your body. A way of feeling every motion, every posture, knowing that it is given to me, and that I demand nothing but the unfiltered unsheathed you as I look at you, that makes my slut seem so much more in her body.

And, I think to myself, groaning as you take me into your mouth completely, your throat pulsing around me for a moment as it protests the intrusion, my hand gently sliding up in your hair, enjoying its silkiness and my control over you, there is so much more that you become when I take away your freedom.