Dungeon Magic - www.dungeonmagic.com
 | Home |  |  |  |  | 
Erotic LiteratureErotic Literature




Printable Version Printer-friendly Version

Erotic Literature

Previous story or poemReturn to the story/poem listNext story or poem

Bound By Love

The horizon was beginning to lighten from black with polka dot stars to a very lazy and lackluster dark gray as Jack turned his key in the lock. A solid click freed the door from its latch as he entered his apartment. The weight of the spring on the door swung it closed automatically with a loud thud. With military precision he made a sharp right turn towards his bedroom. Instinctually he stopped in front of the mirror in the foyer. Half smirking, half smiling he tugged at the soft tight black leather gloves covering his hands and tossed them light-heartedly at his reflection. They landed in a ball on the curved and ornately designed stand that held a sword in the stone letter opener and a few pieces of unattended mail.

Before he crossed the bedroom threshold he had his black leather jacket tossed on the floor and was pulling his black shirttail out from his pants. The bellowing sleeves seemed to catch air like a sail as he reached for the buttons beneath the lace fringe. As he took a deep breath his well-shaped and muscular chest filled to expose years of discipline and training. Some would consider his self-admiration conceit but Jack called it pride. He spent years lifting, bending and formulating this shape and he wanted everyone including himself to admire it. Jack had the physique and appearance that would incite gay men to fight and die just to touch him, while gorgeous and influential women would drool like wolves in heat and be left speechless as he passed.

He tugged on his belt and let the soft black leather pants fall to the floor, the belt buckle kissed the wood beneath it and made a soft clinking noise. He seemed to pause there naked except for his black cotton socks. At 5 foot 10 he was an average height by todayís standards but oh so perfect for buying off the rack. With all of his fancifullness he had no need for a tailor or alterations. He just chose what he wanted. Whether in a store, in a scene or in life everything just seemed to fit just right.

He designed his life to serve his needs and pleasures. Now he was ready to lie down in his soft full size bed. The posts seemed to bow silently as its Master let his full weight sink deep into the comfortable plies of cotton and down. Surrounded in softness and solitude he tugged at the extra large two-tone dark blue and white goose down comforter draping it over his shoulders. His head sunk deeply into the pillow as he gave himself permission to let go and be emersed in last nightís festivities.

Most of us look to sleep as a respite from the dayís toils. A place to hide, an escape from lifeís reality to that neatherworld of symbols and signs that make very little sense to us in the conscious world. Jack was to focused to be led down this ambiguous dark and dank alley. He chose not to slide from one unconscious reality to another but rather impose his will to what he wanted to see. The shape of her face began to appear through the fog of sleep like a granite work of art emerges at the hand of a skilled sculptureís chisel. The name Monique is uttered tenderly and adoringly. Her silken shape saunters forward as her weight shifts from one thigh to the next. The bright red chiffon dress flowing around her like wisps of flame dancing as they leave her delicate white skin. Her long reddish auburn hair is curled under framing her face and giving her an almost angelic look. Her eyes were a submissively soft pale gray/green. They silently spoke of love and honor as they gazed downward towards the floor. Her lips were full, sweet and succulent like bright red strawberries at the end of spring.

An invitation to kiss those passionate lips could make any man succumb to uncontrollable love or lust. It would be like being swirled up into a sudden whirlwind. With nature being the one to decide where and when to let you off. As he studied her hips, thighs and legs he came to the realization that only here in dreams could he worship her to his minds delight. He wanted to spoil her just like Rhett Butler spoiled his daughter Bonnie in "Gone With the Wind". Here in this dream world he could be the ultimate romantic fool. Here rose petals could dance and string lilacs around her ankles and well-curved calves. Here he could lie his head on her stomach while champagne showered over her body. The golden beads of sparkling wine running down her shoulders and up and over those erect nipples into his waiting open mouth below. Here discipline gives way to devotion like the soil gives way to a fragrant summer jasmine erupting from its care to blossom and have its scent carried along a cooling breeze.

The shrill of an alarm clock buzzing loud enough to wake the dead abruptly ended his so called controlled fantasy. Two and half-hours werenít nearly enough time to relive every depraved moment of last nightís encounter with Monique. Even now as he struggled to regain consciousness little wisps of thought ran across his mind ending with the crack of a singles tail and a moan. But after a few seconds of allowing himself this latitude he shrugged off the veils of sleep like a man shrugging off the attentions of an unwanted slave. Now with both feet firmly planted on the wooden floor he strode heavily to the bathroom for a shower that would reunite him with the world of the living again. There was no time for Monique now as he lathered that finely chiseled body of his. Focus on the day that lied ahead was the order of the day. He was already reviewing the meetings scheduled for today as the shampoo was being rinsed from his soft curly brown hair. The shower curtain sounded like it was being ripped off its bar as he pulled it back.

His aggressive, arrogant, and self-confident manner was taking control. Like the sun was separate from the moon so Jackís business life was separate from his lifestyle. As he stared at the face before him in the mirror, the razor gliding downward vanquishes all the little stubbles. He knew he had the power to do the same to all that stood in his way today. With the final brush stroke to the side of his head he was ready to define his style. He wanted to overpower his clients but yet not distance himself too much so instead of the light blue embossed shirt he chose the crisp white one with the French cuffs. He brushed his fingers along the tie rack until they froze at just the right color blue tie with red accents. Finally, he reached into the closet and grabbed his power suit. Like a super hero donning his distinctive life saving costume Jackís apparel had similar characteristics.

It was a flashback to his teenage years where he spent a lot of time envisioning himself as Spiderman, Captain America or The Daredevil. Dual personalities seemed to be a part of his personality even then. For Jack, the scent of new found money oozed from every fiber of this suit. He bought it on his last trip to Milan as a bonus for a job well done. He was so confident that his boss would be so proud of him that he just added the bill to his expense account without a second thought. Jack was never really good at hiding what he wanted and he wanted to compete with these well-mannered and well breed Italian high lifeís. So when he closed the deal to build a stylish American Mall within the faÁade of a 500 year old factory in the center of the city, his first stop after the signing was Veolettoís. He was only the 3rd most expensive tailor in Europe so the blue with millimeter red striping suit only cost him 800 dollars versus the 1500 he wouldíve paid in London. Which was all the justification he needed if his boss would have the balls to question him on it.

The poster child for Suave, Debonair and Charming he had to take one last glance as he passed the mirror in the foyer. He ran his fingers through his hair to give it a slightly mussed look, more natural, less poised he thought to himself as he walked out the door. Down the elevator, through the lobby and into the street he strutted like a peacock. But this was one of the parts that his friends and relatives just couldnít understand about Jack. With all of his money, influence and power why didnít he live in Long Island or at least Whitestone? He could easily have a house, a maid, and even a wife to manage it for him if he wanted. But, Jack chose to live in the city. The upper West Side just above the 94th St. Boat Basin to be exact. He was meticulous about his exodus from the middle class trappings that stifled him as he was growing up. He wanted nothing to remind him of the tough years, the scrapping for recognition, the fights, longing for acceptance.

No, here he was where he wanted to be a stone throw from the Hudson River and a short cab ride from the Met. It was a long struggle to get here and Jack was not about to look back. He slid into the back seat of the cab and shouted 54th and Park as he closed the door behind him. The cab driver looked into the rear view mirror a few times to check on his passenger, trying to size up whether or not his was going to be a good tipper or not. The inattentive look on Jacks face made it impossible to predict, which is just the way Jack liked it. He was a great poker player. His stone face would never let you see what kind of hand he was holding. They reached the destination with a minimum of traffic as the cabby said 14.50 boss. There was an unpredictable look on Jacks face as he handed the cabby the exact fare through the slit in the protective Plexiglas partition. The cabby gave him a silent-questioning look. Finally, Jack took a 5 from his pocket and slid it through the window like a parent gives a child a candy bar as a reward and laughed as he exited onto the street.

Park Ave. was overflowing with commuters, secretaries, office workers and executives as it usually is on any given business day. It seemed just like any other day as Jackís ego lumbered past the crowds of people to push the revolving doorway ahead of him. His gait remained steady and calm as he past the security desk as the guard said loudly "Good Morning Mr. Cross". Without skipping a step, he turned and nodded his confirmation and continued to the elevator banks. In control and confidant he pushed the button for the 37th floor hard. Eyes straight ahead, chin up so the slight cleft in his chin protruded regally; he pushed his way forward as the doors slid open.

The office seemed to have its own momentum going on. Secretaries rushing to get the bossís coffee mumbling under their breathes of course. The junior executiveís envying the senior execs, and the owner having his thumb on the pulse of the goings on. On a peer level the senior execs were waiting and wanting him to fail. But there was a reason why Jack was the bossís favorite and believe it or not it wasnít just for his good looks. He worked diligently to get to where he was. Which is one reason why he was so tight lipped. He didnít share with anyone especially his peers or boss. In a sense he was an enigma. The only thing known for sure was that he started as a construction laborer 15 years ago and has worked his way up to Vice President of New Building Projects and that was the way he liked it.

His Secretaryís name was Evelyn. An older woman with bleached blonde hair. Still quite a looker for a woman over fifty. Which is the second reason why she still worked for Jack. The first was that she has been extremely loyal for the past ten years that they have worked together. She ran pass interference for him unflinchingly. She held a maternal affection for Jack, but she knew he would have none of it so she hid it beneath the surface. In the boardroom as well as the office she followed his lead and covered his ass.

The coffee was fresh and still steaming on his desk as he said Good Morning Ev. Next to the coffee were the contracts lying straight up in the center of the desk waiting for his final approval? As he started to walk into the office he said forcefully "Donít disturb me till the damned Russians get here" and slammed the door behind him. Sitting down behind the lush desk, he went over his presentation and plan meticulously. Finally, the game was coming to him. He felt secure that he had covered every angle, dotted every I and crossed every T. He folded his arms in contentment pushing himself back in his chair. The buzzer rang and Evís voice said calmly " Itís the boss and he wants to talk to you, should I put him through".

He was a master at manipulating his boss so he said, " No, tell him Iím on the phone and Iíll talk to him when Iím finished, ask him if he wantís to wait". The hold button started to flash and Jack confirmed his notion that the Boss was chomping at the bit to find out what was going to happen this morning. His finger pushed in the button and a chilling, confident "Good Morning Boss" erupted. Are we ready he asked in a demanding tone? Theyíll be here any minute. Any hitches for the meeting? Jack smirked to himself, no Boss; itís all covered. The halls were ablaze with low murmurs that could be heard everywhere, "The Russians are coming, The Russians are coming". The excitement was building like an ominous crescendo. The buzzer rang again, but this time Evís voice was almost stuttering "Jack, Jack, theyíre here". Jack got up, put on his jacket and opened the door. The Russian entourage had a total of 8 people. The Peoples Commissioner was in the lead, followed by 2 hulking bodyguards.

Lost behind the bodyguards seemed to be what looked like two accountants. Brining up the rear was an American lawyer and what looked to be his lovely legal assistant. Jack shook the Commissioners hand and led the way to the cherrywood lined conference room. The Boss, the corporate legal eagle and the executive secretary were already inside waiting. Jack instantly thought to himself weíre outnumbered two to one, when the scent of perfume overtook his senseís. It was reminiscent and overpowering and yet he tried to ignore its familiarity. He didnít want his focus swayed but yet he couldnít resist turning his head in the direction of the woman sitting next to Tom Ross. The small round rimless glasses and pulled back hair created a distance but as she decided to smile an acknowledgment began to build in the pit of his stomach. And quite to his surprise almost simultaneously and uncontrollably his penis was beginning to stir from under his expensive pants.

He quickly introduced his team anxious for Tom to do the same for his. He waited patiently, drifting in and out until he finally heard the name of the mystery woman, Ms. Monique Moran. Her Identity was now confirmed, he felt thrown off balance. Last night there was no mention of professions or last names. Was this going to be a part of the game or was it just a coincidence. Was she going to use his need to manipulate the current situation? Insecurity was briefly rearing its head. Little beads of sweat were forming on Jacks forehead as he sat down. Jack began his presentation in a moderate tone, much more subdued than any of his previous speeches. Like a gang banger out of his turf or a mobster amidst the Sisters of Charity he felt out of his element. Every sentence that was carefully crafted began to disappear like sandcastles beneath the rough surf. It was time for the final kill; the sword through the Bullís neck but the sword was still hidden behind the red cloak.

The Boss was becoming agitated, he wanted to save his star quarterback but he was still waiting for the "Hail Mary" play. There was a growing unrest on the Russian side of the table. They were here to make a deal and there was no bottom line in sight. Finally, in a moment of true compassion Monique broke the senseless downward spiral and took off her glasses slowly to make sure she caught Jacks attention and in a moment of reassurance and loyalty lowered her eyes briefly and inconspicuously. It was like oxygen to a drowning man. Suddenly, vigorously the tables were beginning to turn. From the ashes of defeat a phoenix was rising. With a simple gesture of obedience the Old World was crumbling as the New World was forming.

Jack went on to explain how his company with its vast resources and International experience was the only company that could maintain the Integrity of the Soviet Union while ushering in a new era of Western competition and profit by building the first Old Navy in Moscow. The commissioner was inspired and moved by the emotional display and a resounding "Dah" followed by a two handed handshake confirmed the companyís new venture. Tom Ross echoed the sentiments in his own way and promised a swift exchange of papers as his assistant returned her glasses to her face and extended her hand in congratulation and smiled graciously. As they filed out of the conference room Jackís Boss placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear "I donít know what you had planned and I donít really care just donít ever scare the shit out of me like this again, you got that." Almost too numb to make a wise crack and staring directly at Ev he says in a humbling voice. Thereís more to life than just work Iím taking the rest of the day off. Iíve got some thorns I have to get rid of.

The cab ride home was sullen and austere. For the first time since he came to this country over 35 years ago he felt small, not in stature but in a humane way. Almost like he was willing to join the human race and be a part of the world instead of being on top of it. Could one woman turn his whole world upside down? Could one woman pry open his spirit like a canned vegetable revealing openness, honesty and trust? So far the answer was obvious to any one looking at his lost puppy dog expression. Like a ship without a rudder his thoughts were continuing to go in circles with no glimpse of a shoreline, with no definite answers only more questions.

The traffic was at a standstill, the meter kept clicking a new number and his thoughts were on the smile on Moniqueís lips as they left the conference room. He told the cabby to pull over; he would walk the rest of the way home. He slipped a $20 bill through the slit in the Plexiglas without a thought to the change and slipped out silently. For the first time in what seemed like ions he became a part of the thousands of ants on the street. Instead of looking down at them he now was one of them. As the doorman opened the door to the apartment building just before he could utter Jackís name he said "Thank you Bob" and continued his stride to the elevator. The doormanís hand was still clenching the door in shock as the elevator bell rang its arrival and subsequent opening. The stunned look on Bobís face resonated with the question who was that man and how could he look like Jack Cross.

His keys jingled a bit as they entered the lock and as he pushed the door in he quickly passed the foyer mirror without even a glance. He tossed his keys and tie across the room onto the bureau. He slung his jacket and shirt onto the chair back and sat back in his bed. There was a deep sigh that expelled from his lips, his hands reached out to clasp themselves behind his head and he closed his eyes. Moments turned into hours and silence turned into daydreams. The phone rang and in his semi conscious state he tried to decide if he should just let the machine answer it but instinct overrode his actions and he said hello.

The voice on the other end was all too familiar now. It was Monique. Like a man clinging to a rope over an abyss he clung to her every word. She was an enchantress and every breadth cast a spell on his soul. She whispered I need to be with you Jack. I want to be at your feet so that you can lift me to your gaze and succumb to your every desire. I want to prove my loyalty to you Master. I want you to strip me naked and lay me out on the sands of time and command the white tipped waves of your passion to roll over me like a blanket of white orchids. I need you Jack and I only await your command and I shall come to you like day comes to night, without question, diligently and resourceful. Rarely had the wolf offered the comfort of his sanctum. He wanted his secret life to be separate and away from the scrutiny of his neighbors.

His instincts and discipline demanded that he take control and do as he had done so many times before, but his desire for her was reaching a dangerous crescendo. His mind paused but his lips spoke the words "Come to me my little wicked wench before I change my mind". There was so much more he wanted to say, but they spoke of need and not passion or want so the thoughts fell silent as he hung up the phone. Normally, he would be searching for a matching dominant look, like black leather pants with a black silk shirt. Something, anything to separate and elevate him above the thousands of other Domís in this megatropilis. But, tonight his mind raced to ritual, to tools, to desire. For the first time appearance and clothing were irrelevant. When Jack discovered the lifestyle he approached it like any other conquest. He embraced it, overpowered it, and controlled it like a dictator. There was no love, or passion, he would take it or leave it at his discretion. The only limits that Jack would acknowledge were unconsciousness. There was no more time for anticipation or musing, he wanted just the right setting and tone for their encounter tonight.

The intercom buzzed and the doormanís voice bellowed raspingly "A Ms. Monique Moran to see you Sir" Ask her to wait a few minutes please, Bob. Iíll be right down. They both looked at each silently questioning the response. The doorman tried to look inattentive as his eyes slid down every inch of her body. Her red hair was loose, curly, and bouncing as she walked away from his desk. Her figure hidden but outlined in a long black leather coat. Her rounded shoulders led way to a subtle waist ending in a complimenting and well-defined posterior. He may not have known the reason for her arrival but he could definitely surmise how this evening might end for both of them. The elevator bell chimed and the door opened as Jack stood there for a moment gazing at her motionlessly. As he stepped out he acknowledged the doormanís presence by saying "Thank you Bob". Almost in astonishment he stuttered "Is there anything else I can do for you Sir." Jack said yes as he clutched Moniques arm pushing her in the direction of the elevator. Iím expecting a package any minute, when it arrives can you bring it up to me? Of course Sir, he said as the doors closed and they disappeared from sight. In the few seconds together in the elevator Jack rubbed his right hand up and down her side. The soft leather accentuating every curve of her body and revealing the absence of bra or panty lines. No words could do justice to this moment, so a wisp of silence escorted them to his apartment. As she clenched the door knob ahead of Jack his hand reached up and grabbed a sizable portion of the hair on the back of her head and she froze.

Without losing grip of her hair he used his other hand to turn her around. In wild abandonment and capriciousness he pushed her lips to his. It was a golden moment for them both as they released the tension of their bodies through their tongues and lips. He slipped his left leg between hers and pressed her body back into the door. Like a deep-sea diver he overwhelmed and toyed with her tongue without taking a breadth. He could feel her gasping for air but he couldnít stop. Deeper he plunged sucking her tongue up into his mouth. He could feel her going limp but neither would give in or stop. Finally, as she began to slide down the door towards the floor Jack came to his senses and pulled out his tongue so she could breath. As she refilled her lungs with air the elevator door opened and Bob appeared holding what seemed to be flowers wrapped in that traditional green paper. Jack reached out for them and said thanks as Bob reentered the elevator. These are for you Jack said with a charming boyish grin. I hope you like them. She smiled; quite bewildered and surprised she looked into the green wrapping to see a dozen white and spotted fragrant Lilies. Jack then opened the door and tried to usher her in quietly, but in his frenzied haste he tripped over the door saddle. Unconsciously, he grabbed her arm in a vain attempt to regain his balance. Monique was on the tips of her toes standing on 6-inch stiletto heels and even though her calves, thighs, and buttocks were in great shape they were not going to steady either of them. First they swayed a little to the left, much like the impression of a great building implosion. Finally, just like a ton of bricks falling they crashed on the floor with a loud thud. For a faint second there was complete silence, then a great laughter from the embarrassed faces lying on the floor.

There was no need for words, circumstance had decided to disarm them both. Immediately they began to kiss passionately again rolling over each other first left then right. Like wildcats they pawed each other mercilessly. Their hands were like octopus tentacles reaching, grabbing, and touching the complete length and breadth of their bodies. Seconds transformed to minutes, the leather coat that reached her ankles was now a bunch of ripples adorning the small of her back exposing the roundness of her ass. The buttons on Jacks silk shirt were scattered along the foyer like little bottlecaps. The long nail marks cut rows down the massive chest muscles as they heaved up and down beneath a layer of plowed short curly brown hair. It seemed like the only thing that could break these two up would be a bucket of cold water or the curt disdain of the elderly couple living next door. Luckily they were spending two weeks in Boca Raton. In the end only two elements would raise them from the floor, he was hard and she was hot. The door was still open as they raised themselves to their knees still clinging to each other. Then in a moment of chivalrous abandon he stood up, reached for her hand cupping it from the palm and beseeched her rise Milady of my heart. Which she did bowing her head ever so slightly, as the door slammed shut behind her.

Monique was intelligent, vivacious, and caring, but at this moment she was enthralled at the majesty of Jacks transformation. The little voices in her head were creating havoc to her senses; the only clear thought that she could cling to was what a difference a day makes. Last night she was a pawn in a play scene and tonight she is Jacks princess of pain. To which deity would she have to pledge burnt offerings for this chance blessing? At what point did she blossom from plaything to siren? She wanted the clarity of hindsight to shed a light on the path to their future. All these thoughts and more were rushing through her head like banshees through an Irish forest, to no avail of course. The only thing that was certain is that Jack would be taking her to whatever realm he chose. As she succumbed to that one thought she smiled from the inside of her soul as she lied there semi naked sprawled out on Jacks bed waiting patiently for his return.

The clubs had been important to Jack. He used them as a form of recreation, a place to socialize, to learn and show off. His apartment on the other hand was his solace. This is the place where he hung pictures of his mother and father and very cherished memories. As far as Jack knew this was the only place where Elvis Presley still reigned as king and Marilyn Monroe was as gorgeous as the day the fake subway grate lifted her skirt for Tom Ewell. The formal dining room was sparse and held just the necessities since he didnít entertain. There was no need for fancy silverware or china even though he did like to show off the two rare bottles of Madera wine he brought back from his trip to Spain five years ago. As the cork exploded from the very expensive bottle of Dom Perrignon with its all too familiar pop, he realized for the first time that he actually lived in a cave not an apartment. He had sacrificed warmth for status and love for solitude.

There was a quiet, sullen look on his face as he carried the two long stemmed glasses 3/4 full of sparkling wine very cautiously into the bedroom. In a sincere and serious tone he said to Monique "You may not believe it but the last guest that I entertained here was over 7 years ago, but believe me I do intend to make the most out of it. I hope youíre up to the task." Her head and neck were elevated with the back of her hair slightly crushed forming what used to be called a bouffant hairdo as her eyes were ablaze with passion and anticipation she retorted firmly " I am yours to do with as you see fit Master". In a compassionate almost fatherly voice he replied sit up my love I want to drink champagne from your pussy till you giggle and orgasm with delight. Without further direction she sat up, bent her knees and spread her legs as wide as she could. Good he said, now hold these two glasses over the lower part of your stomach and let them flow slowly one at a time when I tell you. From the far end of the bed he began to crawl ever so slowly letting her dwell on his climb toward her groin.

The beads of anticipation were beginning to swell and moisten the inside of her pussy lips. She began to quake as the hairs of his head started to tickle the inside of her thighs. He was so close to her pussy right now that his breadth was warming her clit. She could feel his tongue coming out further and further trying to reach the glistening pores above her pussy. Finally, his tongue skimmed the surface of her skin causing her to flinch. Fortunately, she still hadnít spilt a drop of champagne yet. Now he rolled over on his back and cupped his hands beneath each ass cheek and lifted them up gently and slowly high enough to fit his face and mouth just beneath the end of her pussy lips. Before saying anything he darted out his tongue to make sure he could reach the inside tips of her pussy. As she wriggled with ecstasy he knew he had hit the mother lode. Now, he demanded and she slowly tilted the left hand glass to the point where a short steady flow began rolling down her stomach, across her clit and down her pussy lips to her Masters waiting mouth. The effervescent bubbles created a tingling sensation across her skin and inside pussy lips.

She began to lose muscle control as he licked the tiny crackling beads from the inside of her lips; he could feel her weight pushing back against his hands. Instinctually, he pushed her hips even higher as his head strained to reach her sensitive shaved mound. The other one he yelled not knowing if she could hear him or not. Less careful and in the midst of an upcoming orgasm she poured the contents of the glass haphazardly. An avalanche of Dom Perrigon was making its way down her delicate white skin.

Jack could sense the physical abandonment and wild frenzy coming so he opened his mouth wide and captured a wide patch of vulva with his upper teeth as his tongue charged and rammed her asshole. Moniqueís hips collapsed as she poured her orgasm into his waiting mouth with the excess flowing across his face and down his neck. He slithered down the bed on his back like a snake going in reverse. When he reached the end he rolled over to witness a barrage of orgasmic afterwaves causing her face to redden and writhe while she shook violently. There was a glowing sense of self-satisfaction as he witnessed Monique lose control of her body. The erection that he had been nurturing so vigilantly since he had started was beginning to subside as he began to relax and watch the erotic culmination of his endeavors. After a couple of minutes she also began to calm and breathe a bit more steadily even though it was still quite shallow.

When she opened her eyes Jack was standing over her with the Lilies he had given her in his right hand. Jack said in a much sterner tone "Are you ready for something different?" Her eyes seemed to say no, I donít know if Iím ready for anything new yet. However, she murmured the words "as you wish Master". Close your eyes my love I want you to feel what I have in store for you next. Quietly he removed one of the Lilies from the bunch placing the rest on the floor next to the bed. With his left hand he passed the palm of his hand on her forehead and gently slid it down over her eyes, nose and chin ending just below her throat. Shifting his weight and turning he now used the Lily in the right hand in just the same manner.

The softness of the Lilly versus the weight of the hand and its irregular shape were a perfect contrast. With each exposure and inquiring downward or circular stroke her skin responded with tiny goose bumps. The sensations were different than that of rabbit fur or such. Plus there was the natural fragrance of the Lily that captured her senses as he slide it down across her face and under her nose. With every pass of his hand he could feel her nipples rising higher and firmer. The expedition to find the chasm of her next orgasm was just beginning. The Lily slid around her right breast first, then under and over the left one. She arched her back forward as he teased her nipples with the Lilyís pistol.

Jack could see she was about to abandon reality shortly so he decided this was the time to sweeten the honey pot. He picked up another Lily and began guiding them both down her stomach across her vagina and down her inner thighs. She started to moan quietly at first, but by the time he was stroking the inside of both lower inner thighs the moans were anything but subdued. Directly over the center of her body his left hand gently guided the Lily under her ears and down her throat. While the right one was teasing the top of her shaved clit both simultaneously. She began to wriggle and moan unconsciously. Her hips lifting to meet the gentle petals of the Lily as it stroked the wet and moist inner pussy lips. In a brief moment of consciousness a wisp of thought passed through her mind.

If this was Jackís introduction would she be able to see it through to his conclusion or would she be too exhausted to say humbly "Thank You Master"? Suddenly, she could feel the floodgates swelling beyond capacity. Her hips were already inches off the bed. Jack was measuring her reactions and could tell he needed to regain control before she squirted the precious nectar across the room. Get down bitch he commanded, Iíll tell you when its time to cum. And with an extremely harsh and powerful downward swing he smashed the long Lily across her pussy. A look of shock and surprise erupted on her face as her ass hit the bed good and hard. Then with his left hand he swiped both breasts. As the petals shook from the stems and became askew across his bed he partially waited for a remark or question, but only a flushed face responded with a silent look of more I want more. Rollover he said decisively and now he began to beat her on the back and buttocks. The stems leaving skinny welt marks wherever he stroked her, he couldnít see her face but he knew she was smiling over the pillows below her face. He finished using 6 Lilyís on her back and ass and was proud as a peacock of the tiny thin welts on her ass and thighs when he demanded to see the love on her face.

She rolled over carefully and slowly and the grin was plastered onto her face. Now he said confidently Iím going to beat your pussy till your senseless and then if your lucky Iíll let you cum for me. He took the remaining 4 Lilies in his right hand and slid them down the inside of her legs telling her to open wider. When he was satisfied that he had enough room to make a perfect flogging swing he let go with all his might. Like an explosion in a florist shop the petals flew everywhere. The sound of the thud on her pussy was enough to make her scream in ecstasy. But he wasnít finished yet; he wanted to smell the fragrance of Lilies covered with cum juice. So he swung again and again until she squealed and squirted on the bed where she collapsed semi consciously into her own special sanctuary, her sub space. When she awoke she was sitting upright. Confused she asked what happened. Jack smiling said you passed out for a few minutes your fine now. Here drink this as he handed her a glass of champagne. She giggled like a little girl as she let the tiny bubbles coat her throat. He reflected to himself silently how this was a side of her he hadnít seen yet. Most of her make up and lipstick had been removed by now and a simple innocence seemed to shine on her face. She seemed relaxed, playful and refreshed.

In a romantic gesture and a prelude to her sexual submission he entwined his forearm with hers and they exchanged sips of champagne. He wanted to feel her swoon in his arms so he put down the drinks and clenched her face with both hands. He wanted her to see him as he leaned into her so he paused for a second to look into her eyes before he pressed his lips to hers. He pressed firmly as his tongue parted her lips. Their tongues were dueling for supremacy. They descended deeply encircling each other then darting in and out. Like trained divers they went on and on before she gave up and began gasping for air. Another deep breath and they swam off again, only this time they started grabbing each other. Their hands rubbing up, down and over every part of their anatomy. He grabbed a fist full of hair with his left hand and rolled over, the tension pulling her along until she rested her breasts on his chest. His cock was hard, firm and full. She mounted him without hesitation. Her pussy lips moist and engorged again, she slid down on his cock like a tight piston on the downstroke. She began to build momentum raising higher and coming down harder with each stroke. The beads of perspiration were multiplying and sliding down their skins like a sudden summer rainstorm.

Jack leaned his head forward to memorize her full heavy breasts heaving to a silent rhythm. Reaching out he pushed her shoulders back gently so she could push her hips down even further. Moniques long red hair was sweeping back and forth in a frenzy, like trails of flame following a rocket. The room was devoid of any recognizable words or moans, just the sounds Neanderthals grunting in passionate abandon. Jack was grimacing trying to hold back the imminent explosion of semen. His eyes closed and thighs clenched he screamed cum now my sweet slut I cant hold on any longer. A stream of semen erupted and shot through deep into her vagina with the force of a firehose. She doubled over her head landing on his chest with a violent convulsion. Her pussy felt ripped open and bare as her orgasm rolled down Jacks dick, balls and groin in what seemed like latex it was so thick. Weak and exhausted she fell off his limping cock onto the bed where they both feel silent and drifted off into a light slumber.

A few hours passed before they regained consciousness. She was the first to stir and reaffirm where she was while Jack struggled to keep his eyes open. She ran her soft delicate hands along his now stubbled face. Thank you Master, you make me feel whole here lying in your arms. He smiled boyishly like he had swallowed the proverbial cat, emotionally and physically satisfied he asked are you happy? In a voice that echoed freedom and self-awareness she said I never knew I could feel this happy. You have spoiled me; no man has ever moved me this way. Nor should they he responded quickly and firmly. You are now mine body and soul. Come here let me greet this new day with a kiss of sunshine from your lips.

She reached over on her knees to join her lips to his. While they kissed he gave her ass a good hard slap which resonated across the room. Owwwwww, whatís that for she asked? Because I can he replied smiling. Now run out to the kitchen and make me some breakfast. What does Master want she asked with a coy smile? Eggs, toast coffee and juice, think you can handle that my love he asked? Right away Sir she said as she jumped off the bed and heading off toward the kitchen. As that cute plump ass bounced its way out of the bedroom Jack thought to himself laughingly with an image of Claude Raines and Humprey Bogart in his head, this could be the beginning of a great relationship.

Author: Vincent Cucchiara

Previous story or poemReturn to the story/poem listNext story or poem


Site best viewed at 800x600 or better Copyright © 2016 Dungeonmagic • All Rights Reserved