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Under Pressure

“Suck my dick,” he answered me, voice unsteady, tenor tones punctuated by a quick inhalation. Hands pressed into his chest, I tipped forward till the ends of my hair brushed against his face, ignoring his request even though I had just asked him what he wanted. I smeared my dripping pussy on him.

“Oh?” my voice soft and teasing, “do you want me to kneel between your legs?” His cock between us brushed against my own aroused bud as I rocked my hips. Voice breaking, I gasped at the touch, “Do you want me to wrap my lips around you softly?”

His eyes remained on my face as his hands rose along my sides to hold the breasts, thumbs skimming across taut nipples. Pink lips parted, moved to form words, but no sound came out. It was quiet in the spring sun; peace lay around us in the sounds of the birds audible through the open window. I bent down and traced my tongue tip along the open lip, resisting the urge to nip it with teeth.

The quiver that ran through me tugged at my core; a tension that left my skin on pins, every brush igniting in me. I worked my hips across him again, the twitch sending electrical currents shooting through my nerve endings. My fingers tightened on the muscles of his chest, clinging as my back arched. His thumbs knowingly pinched my nipples and I cried out, another climax was rising within me. His cock, a rock that scraped against the delicate bud; I let the tension pull tight.

Panting, I pursued my question, “Should I suck you deep into me? Use my tongue to suck hard?” My thighs tightened as I rocked those hips, about to succumb to the high. “Talk to me, I want to know your desire.”

The wave crashed over me, tumbling me over and over in its grip. My eyes lost their focus on his, and shut as I collapsed forward, only to catch myself and rock back. My breasts hung over him, and then thrust up at the ceiling; my head tipped back, hair grazing the swell of my butt. The knot that was my core twisted and tightened, releasing then tightening again. Spasms started from my core and radiated outward to find expression even in clenched toes. The slide of my thighs along his was eased by the flow running down from my quaking cunt.

If he answered me, I did not hear it, for my sense of self extinguished all other thoughts. For the span of moments I simply existed to feel the storm that brewed and flashed along my skin. Slowly I returned to myself, deep breaths to slow my pounding heart. My eyes opened with my smile, looking down into his open, wondrous ones.

“Did you know you are beautiful when you do that?” His soft tones full of wonder, while the liquid gold centers of his eyes focused on my flushed face. Satisfied, if not sated, I gazed down at the man between my knees.

“You like to watch me when I come? Even when I soak you?” I slid my cooling body down his legs on hands and knees, my bare tits draped down, brushing his legs as I moved.

“Yes!” His voice was puppy-dog eager, and he practically panted his excitement, rising up on propped elbows to watch me as I ran my tongue along the muscle of his thigh.

I contemplated sitting up, slipping back on my striped panties. There was a certain part of me that entertained the thought of seeing the dashed look on his face. I knew that if I did so, he would try harder to please the next time, even though his devotion was already borderline to what I could handle. I need my space, and he was invading it.

This fuck on my floor was a result of him showing up on my doorstep, uninvited. He knew I was home from work; and had stood there, flowers clasped in hand. I almost had shut the door on both him and the white lilies, but I did want to come. So I let him in; let him take my clothes off with kisses and pretty words. Asked him what he wanted when he finally was under me, skin to skin.

Indecision kept me from moving. I knelt over him, staring up at his over eager brown rimmed eyes. I had never been deliberately cruel before. But his bated breath and pleading eyes killed my own interest. I sat back, heels tucked underneath, my sodden snatch grazing his knees.

“I don’t think so.” I watched his face, waiting for him to whine, to force my hand one way or the other. To complain loudly, to arrogantly assume I had to have his cock.

But he didn’t. Not a word crossed the lips that fell from their goofy, little boy grin, to push out in the very beginnings of a pout, and tremble a little. His eyes got a glazed shiny look, and I knew that this was the meanest thing I had done. But I was tired, and worse, I was bored.

Pushing up into a downward dog over him and stretching my heels down, head, hair and breasts dangled, teased, over his prone body. Rocking back, I stood stretching for the ceiling. I could feel the wattage of his gaze on me, even as I reached back over head, flexed my spine, and stepped across his motionless body, stooping down to retrieve my clothes.

“Get off my pants.” That harsh tone in my voice crept in whenever I talked to him, betraying my impatience with our situation. But I remained unsure about my greater dilemma. How long could I go on, my boredom leading me to grow bolder with my insults- this one was the greatest yet?

I jerked my jeans, tugged them with enough force to free them from under his prone body. Stumbling, I caught myself with an outflung hand on the back of a barstool.

Feeling the heat of irritation in my face, I gritted my teeth together and with pursed lips shoved my legs into my striped boyshorts. Pulled them up and over my hips with a slight wiggle, not enough to be considered enticing, just the shimmy of cotton over the swell of my hips. I looked down at the boy splayed on the floor, his eyes large, and unblinking on me; both of us ignoring his flagstaff that rose between us.

I snapped my jeans, flagging them so the legs were splayed out. Shoved a foot in, hopped on the other as I pulled it up, switched legs, and repeated the process. Pulled them up and zipped them.

He pushed himself up, his eyes hardening, as I reached for my bra.

“What the fuck, Diane…” his voice trailed off, a faint first trace of bitterness there. I looked up, arms behind me catching tiny little hooks.

He had stood up and stepped close, his eyebrows pulled down to join wrinkles above his nose. Breathing in I could smell the wood spice of his cologne, causing me to sniff again and tip my head closer to him; involuntary, instinctive hunger, like the saliva that springs to the mouth at the sizzling beef small of a steak.

Hard fingers captured my upper arm, pinning it. “What the fuck. This has gone too far.” His lips came down hard on mine, punishing with their cruelness, stealing my breath. His tongue pushed in, invaded my mouth.

I pulled back, denial a routine, but that other hand came up to bury itself deep in to my thick locks. It held me close and broached no argument. A whimper escaped my lips as I struggled, hands that pushed turning to fists that beat against the chest crushing me to him.

Teeth caught my lip and sharp pricks of pain shot through me, leaving me gasping. I fought back now, not with my fists but with my lips, wrestling for control. Iron pressed against mine as he smashed against me, my hands fisted still but ineffective, trapped between our bodies.

“Goddamn it,” I twisted in his grip, spitting the curse against his mouth. The hand twisted, bent my head back; pulled the tendons of my neck to stand in ridges. He looked at me, handsome face twisted in hate, bared teeth closed on my neck. Pain ran down in currents that electrified my core.

“Fu-ck,” my sharp inhale sliced the word in half, fingers involuntarily loosening from tight fists to cling to his shoulders. Still the teeth crushed hard to my throat; pinched the skin there. I moaned weakly at the soft brush of his lips, and pitched my hips forward to grind on his.

“Bitch,” contempt in his voice as he released me ran through my tightly kegged emotions. Open palm against his cheek, cracking in the once peaceful space, I put my frustration into the swing. His head moved with the force of the blow, swinging to the side. Snapping back, he spit on my face, thick strands that dripped down my face, framing my bared teeth.

The hand not buried in my hair came up, savage fingers digging in, to grab and pummel my tits. Mauled them, shoving them up to meet his grasping teeth. Back arching, I jammed them harder into his conquering mouth, my hands knotting in his hair, pulling roughly, hauling his head down into my tits. Moaned out my lewd pleasure.

His head came up, leaving me panting, breathless. The hand tangled in my hair wrenched hard, yanking me off balance to crash to the floor, landing in an untidy heap. Scrambled to my knees and crawled to keep up as he drug me across the room, lengths of my hair wrapped around his hand. Pulling my head by the leash of my hair, he sat in the chair, and presented me with his long ignored cock.

“I said, ‘Suck my dick’,” no hesitation this time, his words accented by the tow on the head. My lips opened and he shoved my head down his cock, plunging unceremoniously deep into my wet hole. Held me tight, ruthlessly buried in my throat; blocking my air, pushing down harder.

I struggled, hands on his thighs pushing back, demanding my own path. Drove my mouth up and off his cock; spit on it, opaque trail running from my lips down to his dusky head. I slid my hands around his glory, squeezing, twisting.

Both hands caught in my hair, he forced my head down onto his, pushing past unwilling lips down an eager throat. Plunged my head up and down at a relentless pace.

I sucked and slurped, drooling, spit running from my mouth to trail down and off my chin in dangling threads. Guttural sounds, and sputtering breath, he pushed me deeper and deeper, till I was mashed down; face crammed into the pubic hair his base. His legs caught behind my shoulders and held me in their vise, as he raised his ass from the couch, fucking my mouth in faster furious strokes.

My vision swam with the water that sprung to my eyes, and I felt the burn in my lungs, but still he pushed harder, grinding against my mouth. My shoulders heaved, and I sputtered, lips spraying spittle with my gasping breath. He pressed deep, pushing hard, cramming every bit of gorgeous cock deep into my hungry maw, stifling groans. I tried to keep my bile down, shoulders and throat working with the effort, gagging. I struggled, fighting for air, lips breaking the seal to gasp for air, desperate for breath.

My head was suddenly released from that punishing grip; I spurted and gasped, panting with open mouth through a throat afire. His fingers renewed their grip, catching the strands at the temple and pulled me brutally to him. Crushed my lips with his own, tongue pressing into my mouth. Claimed his property.

Our chests heaved as we broke our snarl, each casting the other aside, my hair flying out. His palm clapped against my cheek, and my tangled mess was once more clutched in his hand, dragging me back towards him. My mouth opened anticipating the job I would finish. His cock glistened with a thick coating of saliva.

Instead, I was hauled up from the ground to stand before him. Releasing my hair, his hands grabbed the pockets of my jeans and pulled down hard. I fumbled with the button and freeing it, the denim was shoved down my legs.

His hands cupped and squeezed my ass, pulled me close. I stumbled in the shackles of my jeans about my ankles, and fell forward against his mouth. Teeth grazed my mound as my hands found his hair again. I ground against his mouth, hips jerking.

“Oh! Fuck!” His teeth took hold of the fine wisps of hair in the patch above my mound, along with the cotton that still covered. Caught and held, pulled tight till the skin underneath was taut. Pushing aside the soaked center panel of the panties, his rough, careless fingers slid along the hairless slit.

The flat of his hand crashed down on my pussy; a sharp slap that jumped to my core, My body jerked with the force that raced through me, leaving my lips in a moan that mingled want and pain, my breath making a sharp, quick gasp.

Releasing me again, he shoved backwards sharply, sliding from the chair down after me, tossing me on my back. Jean shackled legs were pushed high, knees to my chest, and he pushed his cock in, moving the center panel of my panties to the side.

My cunt clenched tight around him as he invaded, groaning with pleasure. My breath raced in and out, peppered with little “Oh,” “Oh,” “Oh” ’s raising through the octaves; cried out in sharp thrills as he began to pound into me.

His body slammed into me, our hips clapping, as he panted. My head trapped between his forearms, I looked up, deep into those lust darkened eyes of his.

“Fuck me,” I moaned to my sweat-slickened lover, “Fuck my slutty pussy.” His pace increased, his strokes thrusting me forward on the carpet, harder and hard he pounded, spurred on by my increasing cries.

“Oh God, Oh God.” I panted hard, matching his furious breathing. “You’re going so deep. Oh my God. Fuck.” There was no relief from the assault he brought down on my abused snatch. My head lolled, eyes closing, and I cried out in wails; my pussy clenched down as his cock battered it. Every muscle tensed; the staccato sound of his panting was punctuated by my aching cries. I rode the high, every sweet aching moment of it, my crashing peak imminent.

Rough hands latched on to the circle of my neck, cupped along the jawline, squeezed tight. “Look at me, damn it,” he cursed turning my face towards his.”Open your eyes, and look at me Diane. Look at who’s fucking you.” My eyelids fluttered, trying to hold him in my sight, but failing.

My sucked in, irregular gasps became increasingly more difficult as the pressure increased, sharp biting fingers digging into me. “God damn you, bitch. Look at me.” His head bent once more to mine, and viciously, he claimed my lips again.

Aching, my breath held for me, my nerve endings sizzled; exploded to life. My own teeth bared, I cried out, “Oh, oh, ohh God, I’m coming,” filling the room with a series of shrieks. My back arched, hips bucking. Legs jackknifed against his chest as I thrashed. Shuddering sobs wracked my body, his cock still hammering into my pussy.

My legs tossed to the side, his cock slid from my quaking sex. Pulse thundering in my chest, I panted unmoving, shallow rapid breathes, rejuvenating oxygen flowing in through the throat he’d released.

“Fuck. Why won’t you fucking look at me?” A crashing blow fell on my ass, open handed slap stinging on the bare skin. Another, and another fell, raining down on me.

I cried out, my body recoiling from the pain, the trailing wetness of my swollen lips betraying my need despite the instinctive movement. “You fucking like this don’t you?” Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded. He lifted me to my knees, legs still bound. My shoulders resting on the mattress, I looked back at him poised behind me, cock in hand.

He slid deep into me, stretching my upturned ass tight. Held breath released from me in a sigh. Fingers bit deep into my hips, pulling me back to him. He fucked deep into me, thrusting hard enough that it shook my body, my hanging tits swinging free of the lace bra.

His strokes beat harsh into my aching cunt, a crescendo rising in tempo, in speed and intensity. Shoulders off the bed, I leaned back, rocking against him. Fucking him as he fucked me. Felt his breath hot on my back as he bent over me, panting. I felt the sting of harsh teeth latching into the back of my neck, marking me as his, to be toyed with as he chose.

Grunting, thrusting faster and faster, till he shuddered, and groaned against my skin, “oh,” “oh,” “ohhh,” the last a drawn out strain, followed by gasping pants, that quivered and shook, his teeth still snapped onto me.

“Ohh, fuck,” whispering against my released skin, he brushed the sore place with soft lips. Letting his softening cock slide from me, he collapsed on the floor. Bruised and sore of body, but unfettered in spirit, I snuggled into the crook of his arm. Head on his chest, listening to the gallop of his heart, felt his arm tighten, and I sighed against his skin, lips lifted in a smile.

Only available on Lush Stories. If viewed anywhere else It has been stolen by Pirates who deserve to have their ship scuttled in front of them with the very last of the rum.

My thanks to Hera Teleia for her assistance editing.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © ©2011 All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced in any manner, without the express permission of the author.

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