Lay It Down

He touched her hair. It was soft and wild and the color of butter.

She was breathing hard and fast, but the pace was leveling. Her cheek was pressed against the sheet, arms extended over her head. Her wrists were closely bound with a white cord while her knees were touching the floor at the foot of the bed. Her eyes were wet, gleaming, and trained on his face as he sat beside her.

“It’s just that I have concerns,” he told her softly, calmly, as if he were telling her something solemn and arcane.

The palm of his hand stung almost as much as her ass, and it was almost as red. He was beginning to wonder if her breaking point was unreachably far beyond his own.

“I know…” she started, but he shushed her softly.

“You have to learn to listen better.” His voice was almost cloying with comfort and deference. He pushed her hair backward to expose the side of her face. She was flushed. Almost perspiring. He studied her and sighed.

“You have this sparkle,” he said. “It never leaves your eyes. It changes according to your mood, but it never goes away.”

He let the back of his hand drift calmly over her cheek, then leaned down and placed a soft kiss against her temple. His palm briefly caressed her neck, then down along her spine to the small of her back where he massaged the little dimples above her ass with the pad of his thumb.

“It says you’re alive,” he went on. “It says you’re not like all those zombies goose-stepping down the sidewalk. It says you’re better than that.”

She sighed as he pressed hard with his thumb, digging into her singing muscle.

“And it’s what makes you more beautiful than other people…other women. I want to say it’s the spark of life, and that you’ve always had it, and that it makes me feel like the last man alive on Earth when you look at me, and that no one ever made me feel like that ever before or since…and…that it’s the reason I keep walking into this house every day, but really there are a lot of other reasons for that.”

His hand moved over the scant, black thong to firmly caress the raw, red skin of her ass. She winced slightly and almost wimpered. When his fingers slipped under the thong and moved downward to explore the swollen lips of her bald pussy, she was swimming in the syrup of her own heat. One finger slid between the petals and sank inward. Half a sound came out of her throat while her spine arched.

“That comes from being strong, too,” he said as his finger began a short, lazy suggestion of fucking. He leaned close to her face and spoke low and softly. “And you’re so strong. Maybe the strongest person I ever met. But it’s a problem sometimes because your strength controls you. And you need to learn how to control it.”

“What do you…?”

“Shhhh, baby, shhhh. You trust me, don’t you?”

She closed her eyes and nodded wordlessly. Then he told her he loved her and drew his finger out of her saturated core. He smeared her moisture on the tender skin of her ass and stood up.

Walking behind her, he undid his dark, leather belt and yanked it through the belt loops of his jeans with a prominent snapping sound. The catch in her breath was unmistakable, and her breathing went ragged again.

The curve of her spine was classic, and the swell of breast pillowing out on each side of her body triggered a spike in his pulse. He laid the belt across her ass while he took off his jeans and stood naked behind her. He knelt down in the space between her calves and pulled her thong down. He gripped her ass cheeks and pulled her open.

His tongue slid along the wet furrow of her pussy, up along the crease between her cheeks to graze the puckered bud of her ass. Something like a purr came out of her throat. Then he kissed her taut rim and stroked inside her pussy with his finger. His cock leapt with spasms of longing.

He stood and lifted the belt, grasping it by the buckle and wrapping twice around his hand, until the right length of pure strap dangled from his fist. He gripped his cock with the left and stroked his shaft. Sap began dripping from the head.

“I love you,” he said again, but this time it almost sounded like he was saying it to himself. “I just want to see you fly, baby. The way I know you can. The way you know you can.”

Then his right arm rose above his head and swiftly swung the belt across her spherical cheeks. The snapping sound was sharp and clear. Her buttocks almost jiggled, but the muscles in her ass and thighs were so taut from running their resilience never failed to astonish him.

An angry red swipe line in the shape of his belt began to form across her cheeks, broken in the middle by her cleft. He watched her body writhe. Heard the slow, shallow breath that told him everything he needed to know before raising his arm once more.

He swung the belt again. She gasped at the sharp sound and sting, and then a long, throaty purr escaped her throat. He wasn’t sure if it sounded more like a growl, but he knew what it meant.

He swung a series of solid figure eights in the air, the strap swiping her finely sculpted ass with each cross. Blood pumped hard through his veins as he watched her hips roll, as if she were trying to buck an unseen beast riding her to the outskirts of hell.

The pale crimson of the entrancing slash between her thighs was glistening, taunting him unmercifully. Heat pulsed down the length of his cock shaft that wouldn’t release its grip.

He dropped his hand, letting the tip of the belt tickle the floor, and thought of how it felt to be buried to the hilt in the sumptuous nest of luxury that was her body.

Her face was burrowed in the sheet now, while her frame heaved with short, almost violent breaths. The backs of her thighs seemed to be quivering, and her heart had to be pounding. The color of her ass made it hard to breathe. He felt small, like he was betraying her somehow, but he wanted to kneel behind her and feed himself into her more than his next breath.

Desire was a derelict planet spiraling out of its own orbit and she was the constellation it was lost in.

Ooze dripped from his pulsing cock in a heavy bead. He caught the thread in his fingers and smeared his shaft as he held the belt leather to her red skin and drew it slowly across her flesh as he stroked himself.

He wiped the precum from his fingers across her ass and stood up again. His mask of stern confidence wasn’t necessary back there, studying her body bent over the foot of the bed, her taut lines nearly vibrating as her bound hands balled up fistfuls of sheet above her head.

She was just a woman. She was even almost his. Everything was simple, but nothing was easy.

She was just a woman, swimming against an unending tide of talents and troubles.

He took a deep breath and put the belt across her ass several more times, but strapping her just hard enough to fill the air with its striking sound. He was sure her skin couldn’t tolerate much more.

The sight of her severely tender skin made his knees want to buckle, and he hated seeing her wrists bound together in the way she’d described. He just wanted to lie between those sapling thighs and feel her body stroking him, feel her hands on him, grasping and needing everything she couldn’t see inside.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” she sputtered, turning her head to the side to let out the words.

He froze a moment, feeling the pulse of his entire life gather in his strutting cock.

“You have no idea of the best I’ve got, but fortunately for you, I’m here to show you.”

His voice was suddenly full of menace and comfort he didn’t recognize. His eyes felt wet and his arm reared back to bring the belt across her ass with a singing staccato snap. He kept a slow, steady tempo for several strokes until her body was wracked with shivers and he could hear her sobbing softly into the sheet.

His eyes welled and spilled over. He let the belt fall from his hand and stepped to the dresser to retrieve a hand mirror from the top. Then he sat beside her on the bed and placed his empty hand on the back of her head, turning her face to the side so they could see each other.

“I want you to see the best I’ve got,” he said, forcing calm. “And it’s got nothing to do with the state of your ass right now. Or that stupid fucking belt, or how many excuses we try to come up with for spanking you. I could just about give you the belt just for making me do this to you. Do you even care what it does to me?”

Her sobbing grew deeper and more intense. She started to sputter unintelligible words.

“Shhh,” he hushed. His hand was gentle on her hair, touching her back, until his palm came to rest at the base of her spine. He held the mirror in front of her face so she all she could see was herself.

“That’s the best I’ve got,” he said in that kind of whisper people use when they’re talking to someone half way across a church. “You’re looking right at her. The best I’ve got. The best I want. All I’ve got.”

Her sobs gradually ebbed into deep, steady breaths. He put the mirror on the bedside stand and let his hand drop over her ass, massaging her sensitive skin. Her muscle was strikingly taut beneath her tender hide.

She winced slightly, but when his fingers traveled toward her saturated slit and stroked her swollen lips, she heaved a sharp gasp. He leaned close to her ear and began sliding his fingers inside her sheath.

“I need you,” he said. “I need you smeared all over me. I need your scent on my skin and your voice in my head. I need to feel the heat of your life soaking into me. I need you.”

Then, with all the swift precision of a kickboxer, she swung her legs up high in the air as her body turned on the mattress. She pushed herself further up and planted her feet on the mattress. He kissed her long and deeply, his hands caressing the full spheres of her firm breasts.

Sometime after, he moved lower to suck each of her thick nipples deeply into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them while his fingers rocked into her grinding pussy.

Gradually, he moved even lower, pushing her legs high, until her knees bent back against her breasts. Her slit and ass bud were completely exposed and he dove downward to taste them both. She whimpered and gasped as he kneaded the reddened skin of her ass while spearing into her core with his tongue.

He knew she was crashing toward release when he suddenly reared upright and plugged the knob of his dripping cock into the nest of wet petals between her thighs.

They watched each other’s face as he sank deeply inside her. He didn’t feel so much like he was entering her body as she was melting around him, her essence cascading over his demanding cock.

He began to stroke his lust seared flesh in and out of her, but suddenly stopped just as she began rocking back at him. He was hunkered between her legs with his stalk buried completely inside her.

“Give me your hands.”

She finally lowered her hands, groaning softly as the blood poured back into the stiff muscles in her neck and shoulders.

“You need to be able to use them,” he stated matter of factly, trying to untie her wrists with trembling fingers.

He finally managed to loosen her bond as she watched him in silence. She touched his face as he began fucking her again. She touched his shoulders, his arms, hips. She gripped his rocking ass while his cock slid and pumped through her yielding lips.

He kissed her again, and then again, and they left unasked questions hovering between them as they rose together toward the one place where they’d finally meet.

But just in that moment before, she broke the silence.

“Why?” she asked. “If it bothers you so much…why?”

He looked at her, sweat and tears dripping off his face onto her shimmering breasts. He strained to fuck harder and deeper. Hunger took his soul as a prisoner of war.

“You really don’t know?”

She grimaced from his ravenous cock thrusts, mewled, purred, moaned and gasped…then shook her head without a word.

“Because you have to fly,” he said under the strain of his exertion. “You have to shake hands with the angels, and I have to be there with you when you do.”

Then she arched her spine and held his body in the circle of her thighs as her breath and voice shut down.

He felt electricity pour through him, juicing into her raw, muscular body, inked and scarred and shimmering in the afternoon sunlight.

After he kissed her, gently as if she could break, he moved away and sat on the floor with his back against the foot of the bed. He put his head down and covered his wet face with his hands.

He was wishing she’d go away now. Get up and go into the bathroom. Maybe down to the kitchen for something to drink. He thought about strength, and everything she had to teach him about it. He could hear her singing that tune she was into lately, invading his private fear he would never learn enough.

And then she was beside him, pushing her head under his arm, almost insinuating herself into his embrace.

She was just a woman. It was just an embrace. But it was something he would never withhold.

He circled his arms around her. He held her as if everything would fall apart if he ever let go.