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How Deep Is Your Love, part 2

If you're into plots, you might want to start with the first part ;)
I collected myself from the floor and awaited decisions what we'd be doing next - if I could go to the bathroom or would be needed yet over there. Stan went to the table for a glass of water, and I sat on the chair reaching for a tissue to remove the splendid mixture of tears, sperm, mascara and saliva from my nominally cute face. I deserved to see the world straight.

"Leave it like this," he ordered. "Your whole voluptuous body needs to be covered with bruises and semen."

I hang on to my dress' bottom, feeling exposed even though all the clothes were on me. I wondered if it was possible at all to be liked. I've never minded an innocent spank or a few, but not necessarily a beating on a more serious note and a hardcore treatment seen only in some porn movies I watched more out of curiosity than the real interest. "Well, you must try everything in life once, and Stan seems to be finally happier." My darling jumped on the bed and requested to strip for him. Beat me - silly as it sounds, I've never done that. Surely I loved to dance seductively in front of the mirror; just never could be bother to drop the clothes for my own pleasure. Alright, I did it in my early teens when my sexual interest initially aroused and my parents have never discussed these issues with me. I was an untasty piece of fat in my times, so at mid-twenties I can assume I aged well fixing the skin problems, caring of the hairstyles and finally in the last few weeks reducing the size to the fabulous 36. Actually, I liked the idea of being a super stripper tonight. There was nothing to be ashamed of. I turned on Ayo's songs on my computer, starting with "Down on my knees."

I leaned myself on the chair in the way that nearly exposed my ass between that golden dress and the stay up thigh high black nylons. I was well stretched, who would have thought the fitness classes would have been such a brilliant idea? I could keep my neck and back in one line, pushing up the pelvis. Then I stepped closer and swayed my hips down, nearly to the floor. I ran the right hand though my hair and hang it up, toward the ceiling. I stood up and turned around. He smiled at my face that revealed engagement in the activity. I couldn't hold a naughty smile back. I kissed my wrists seductively... first one, than the other, not quitting to look straight in his eyes. I palmed my body from the breasts, through the visible, nice waist and the larger hips, to my ass, which I spanked. I moved forward to put one knee on the bed. I scrolled the dress up and slided a finger into my succulent pussy. I could hear the juices mingle and I made sure he could experience the same sound. I lingered with the taken out finger around my lips, teasing them around, and finally licking it up. The dress was a problem, since it wouldn't fall down itself and I was forced to take it off through my shoulders. During this action the tight material bothered the lace, black bra with pink ribbons and nearly salved my boobies from their prison. Always have needed a good push-up for my DDs; they rarely accepted to obey. I stepped back and continued to swivel to the beat. I slowly wrapped a finger with a bra strap to pull it down. I put out a breast with an erected nipple. The other strap eventually fell down itself. I carried the tit up to my mouth and licked all over the areola, giving a small bite to the nipple. After I undid the bra, I could go on and on with in turns squeezing and caressing my breasts, moisturizing them both by spitting and massaging saliva into them. I could capture my love enjoying a wank, and I came to the conclusion he wouldn't hold for too long without a brutal throw on the bed and endless fucking throughout the night. So, I laid next to him sharing a curious smile. I put my legs high up and let him take my stockings off.  He spread my legs and could see the majority of a glistering, shaved pussy of mine, since the thong was more of a strap than a real cover. Plus that strap was a mess, which has been slowly flowing onto the bedsheets to my shameful feelings. Stan shook his head in disbelief. He rolled the nylons up my legs. I supposed he was going to take care of the pants, or to hopefully kiss me at least, but no... He took my hands and tied them up to the bedposts with my own stockings....

I checked how tight the bounds were and I feared to find out I struggled to move my wrists in any direction. A sigh that busted out of my chest contained a plea for mercy. From the smile emerged on Stan's face I assumed I'd get none. Thanks to my arms being lifted, my breasts formed libidinously into two standing cups. He spanked them with the fingers. Sounds of the slaps distracted the silence and the atmosphere of kinky excitement in the room. The red straps started to show up as he spanked and squeezed my boobs in turns. My skin gradually got sore from the brutal teasing. Twisting the nipples made me frown in anger. I tried to break myself away and turn to the side, but my hands were trapped and Stan was sitting on me, so I had no balance control over my waist either. He seemed to enjoy my efforts though, so I groaned to sum up my feelings and hit the bed with my both legs. He carried his lips toward my tortured breasts. I supposed a gentle moisturizing kiss would soothe them. It was only the first impression, before I felt a set of teeth eager to take their share. I yelped. Again and again. I battled a new waterfall of tears growing up on me, until his fingers circled around my labia to fill me with a surge of electricity coming from my womb all the way up to the brain's neural network. He proceeded to work on my tits, but also massaged my clit, which gave me some hot and cold feelings. Later two fingers sank in the juice of my vagina easily like a knife in the butter. I moaned with acceptance. Three fingers and it became a little tense inside, yet enjoyable. A sudden attack of all five of them in spite of the natural barrier of vagina's cavity forced an uncontrolled scream from the depth of my lungs,

"For fuck's sake, am I a vase with soup?!"

Even the short nails were scratching and the accelerated course of pussy's enlargement was extremely painful. He moved his sight onto my face. I noticed a fair share of blatant satisfaction. "Be brave, girl. It's his night, let him have it," I encouraged myself in thoughts. When Stan was ready to take me on a long ride with his Transsiberian Railway, he took off my thong, which landed on the carpet with a splash of the wetness contained. The cock got inside with no trouble and our bodies rubbed against each other. I put my neck up as I sought his lips for a kiss, but he pressed my forehead down to the pillow. We were in constant eye contact nevertheless. I slided my tongue all over the lips to show appreciation, which increased with every thrust. It was a full force slamming with the balls hitting my vulva, but the raw passion that touched my skin directed me to the highway to orgasm. I leaned my legs over his back. Fever burnt us from the inside. I thought I'd explode if I couldn't let all the feeling out in a shout. I took a deep breath getting ready, but Stan blocked my mouth. I screamed out into his hand. I tried to free at least my lips. I needed to be heard. The consecutive waves of fever flooded me from head to the toes and I wasn't able to let the world know! I kept hurting my tied wrists as my body bounced. My internal passage began to ache from force and captivated emotion. Finally, he took his penis out and directed ejaculation at my bum's hole. He kneeled to watch how it's getting covered with the streams of cum. Without penetration a part of it got directly inside an exposed place between my spread legs. An overload dripped through my ass cheeks on the bedsheets...

I seemed to deliver well again.
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