Overtaken.

This is from New Year’s Eve and our “pri­vate” afterparty…

Slightly drunk on whiskeys and coke, we drove back to the hotel. The party had been amaz­ing,  and I was still float­ing on that effer­ves­cent high that comes from spend­ing a good time with good peo­ple. I’d traded my spank­ing skirt for jeans halfway through the night, pair­ing them with my pointy black stiletto pumps and tight black corset.

I took my coat off as we entered the room, hang­ing it up in the closet by the door.  I could feel him behind me before I felt his breath on the back of my neck, then his hands were on my waist, slid­ing over my hips to feel the strip of bare skin revealed between the bot­tom of the corset and the top of my low slung jeans. He kissed the side of my neck, sweep­ing my long hair out of the way, work­ing his mouth across the side of my neck to press lit­tle bites along my collarbone.

“I fuck­ing love you in this corset.” he growled. “Do you know that? Do you have any idea how hot you look, with your tight round ass?” He spun me around, push­ing me up against the wall, kneel­ing before me to lick the skin exposed above my hip­bones. “I want to fuck you in this corset. I want to hear you gasp­ing for breath while I drive my cock into you, over and over again.”

I wound my fin­gers in his hair, hold­ing him cap­tive for a moment, mak­ing him look up at me, our eyes lock­ing. Then I slid out of his grasp to move past him, fur­ther into the room. Unzip­ping my pants, I hook my thumbs into the waist­band, eas­ing them over my hips and wig­gling them down my legs before step­ping out of them. My panties fol­low, and I stand before him, nude except for my tight black corset. He moves to grab me, throw me on the bed, but I side­step him, mov­ing to the ottoman. Kneel­ing atop the round plush sur­face, I glance over my shoul­der to where he sits on the bed. “No.” I tell him, “come here.”

He’s on me in a flash, push­ing my head down and my ass up into the air. He slides the head of his cock over my wet slit, and I tell him to “fuck me, already”. He growls, low and deep inside his throat and pushes into me, smooth and hard. The sex is incred­i­ble, the sen­sa­tions so good, so per­fectly on. I arch my back, mov­ing back against him, press­ing into him, tak­ing him deep. The ottoman threat­ens to tip with our move­ments, and I stand over it, lean­ing on my hands, try­ing to keep my bal­ance, hips in the air while he fucks me. He winds his fin­gers into the laces on the back of my corset, con­trol­ling the move­ments of my body, mov­ing me back and forth on his cock. I’m gasp­ing for breath, the plea­sure over­whelm­ing me, push­ing black­ness into the edges of my vision. I’m so close, so fuck­ing wet, I can feel my juices drip­ping down my thighs, I can smell my musk mixed with the soft cit­rus of my per­fume, fus­ing into some­thing unfor­get­table. I beg him to make me cum,  but its too much, and I’m past the point where I can focus my energy into orgasm. The plea­sure is every­where, scat­tered bursts of sen­sa­tion, and I can’t take any­more — I pull away from him, straight­en­ing my legs and stand­ing up.

He pulls me back against him, the cool leather against his hot skin, bites into the nape of my neck. “Get on the bed.”

He lays back on the bed, his cock rigid and beck­on­ing. I strad­dle his body, lick­ing and suck­ing his hard lit­tle nip­ples, leav­ing lit­tle bites as I move down his chest. I tell him that I want to taste myself on him, and I move fur­ther down his body, swirling my tongue over the swollen red head of his cock. He groans, squeez­ing his eyes shut as I take his full length into my mouth, mov­ing up and down, cheeks hol­lowed as I main­tain per­fect suc­tion. He makes inco­her­ent noises of plea­sure, mut­ter­ing some­thing under his breath, but I can only make out my name as he repeats it over and over again. He reaches out, grab­bing my thigh and pulls me to the side,  my mouth still on his cock. Push­ing my legs apart, he pushes his fin­gers into my syrupy wet­ness, first one fin­ger then two, rub­bing against my swollen g-spot while I try to focus on his cock. He adds another fin­gers, and I gasp against the base of his cock, moan­ing as I start to con­vulse around his hand, gush­ing a stream that runs down his wrist. “Fuck.” he says, rev­er­ence and awe in his voice. “I want you to ride me, baby.”

I slip astride him, his cock enter­ing me eas­ily. Still held firmly upright by the corset, I ride him while he grasps my hips in his hands. I grind against him, mov­ing up and down his cock, focus­ing on grip­ping him tightly with my inner mus­cles. I can feel every ridge, every vein, every curve of his cock inside me as I move on him. I slide all the way down, lock­ing eyes with his, and not mov­ing, focus on milk­ing him using only my cunt. He gasps, eyes wide, as I milk him. I can feel him get­ting even harder inside me as his balls tighten up — he’s close. I pull the busk open on the corset, pulling it off my body, spilling my breasts out into his hands. I lean for­ward, press­ing my breasts against his chest, forc­ing him to meet my eyes.

“I want you to come on my face, baby.” I tell him, try­ing to pen­e­trate the fog of plea­sure that dazes him. “Please, baby, I want you to come on me, on my face, on my mouth, in my hair. Please, baby. Please. Come on me. I want you to. I need you to. Come on my face. Pleeeease.” He goes still beneath me, grabs me by the hips, fuck­ing me wildly, mov­ing me up and down on his cock, bounc­ing me out of con­trol. I give over to his motion, hair fly­ing, breasts bounc­ing as he fucks me with barely restrained vio­lence. In one hur­ried motion, he pulls me off his cock and moves over me, his thick cock tightly fisted in his hand. I watch him stroking his slick cock, my eyes mov­ing between his face and his cock, beg­ging him for his come, plead­ing for him to cover me with his orgasm.

Even though I antic­i­pated it, the hot spurt of come hit­ting my face star­tles me, and he’s com­ing all over my face, hot streams on my lips, on my eyes, in my hair. I can feel it drip­ping down my nose, down my chin. His gasp­ing breaths are in my ears as I open my eyes to meet his. I smile widely, lov­ing the expres­sion on his face as he takes in my exquis­itely made up face cov­ered in his come. “Fuck,” he breathes. Using two fin­gers, he scoops the streams of come off my cheeks, off my fore­head and feeds them to me, forc­ing his fin­gers into my mouth, forc­ing it wide. I bat eye­lashes sticky with come at him as I allow the excess to drib­ble out of my mouth, down my chin and onto my breasts. “Fuck,” he says again, watch­ing a stream of come drib­bling down my neck, tan­gling into a curl at the nape. I revel in it, lov­ing his expres­sion, the slick come on my face, coat­ing my lips. He col­lapses against me, kiss­ing me deeply before rolling over onto his back beside me, eyes closed. Before I join him, I get up to retrieve a towel from the bath­room, paus­ing in the hall­way to look at myself in the mir­ror. There is some­thing feral in my eyes, some­thing exquis­ite in my expres­sion, and not for the first time, I wish we had thought to set the cam­era up before we were so over­taken by each other.