Marathon Sex – Part I

Thursday was a hectic day.  My schedule was frantic until I had to drive up to Mr. D’s.  I do my best to dress for Mr. D when I’m arriving to see him.  I showered, shaved and chose lingerie he’d appreciate.  This night it was a soft grey padded bra and a pair of black lace thong panties.  I wore a very tight black dress.  It is called an envelope dress.  Both sides fold over the middle so that it has a V neck on top showing my cleavage and a V slit at the hem showing off my legs and thighs.  I haven’t worn the dress because it’s too tight but I knew Daddy would love it.  When I’m dressing for him and have no need to wear a dress for long, the choices are different.   The dress rose higher and higher on my thighs as I walked from the car to his place.  When I entered his room, he was freshly showered and had little on.  I greeted him and came over for him to see how I was dressed for him.  He loved it.

“Turn around.  Slowly.” I turned while his eyes raped me and his hands caressed the fabric and my curves in concert.  He nodded. “I like. You’ve never worn this dress for me before.”  I agreed.  “You look amazing in it.” I smiled. “Turn and bend over the chair.” I put my hands on the armrests of his big chair.  His hands stroked my ass and pushed the dress up over my hips.  “Mmm, nice.” His hands touched the lace of the black thong panties. He pulled them down and I stepped out of them.  He was sitting directly behind me on the bed while his fingers pushed deep inside my pussy.  I moaned.  It had been a long week without him.

“I want you to bend all the way over the chair.  Hands on the armrests.” I did as asked and felt him position me over his hard cock.  “Now, come down on top of me.” I realized he was trying a new position.  With him sitting on the bed and my arms on the chair, all I had to do was push back and down spearing myself on his cock.  I realized right away that this position was perfect for us.  I moved up and down riding his cock and getting used to the position.  I loved it.  I gripped the chair as I lowered myself and I pushed back up with my legs.  He thrust deeper inside of me than I expected possible in that position.  It was so hot.  An added benefit was that no weight was on my weak wrist.  He thinks through things, figures them out.  He’s a very creative Dom.

After fucking in that position he turned me around, grabbing my neck and trapping me with his dominion.  He kissed me slowly, softly, and then fiercely.  You can’t imagine, until you are in that position, what a rush it is to have someone dominate you like that.  He sets my blood to boiling.  He doesn’t cut off my air but still my breathing becomes labored.  My adrenaline rushes instantly and I feel trapped, alive, jittery, wet, and completely in his control.  At the base level, it is a showing of his physical power over me.  He could crush me.  The power is so palpable.  It is so addicting.  I want it so much.  I fantasize about him, I ache for him, I need a deeper, more intense word than ache or crave…the need for it is that strong.  I can’t go without it now. When we go too long without this type of visceral connection, my existence fades to a more dull grey palette.  He grips me, he uses his will over me and all the colors pop, all my nerve endings sizzle.  It is truly the most incredible drug.

With his hand on my neck he said, “You will strip off this dress and kneel for me properly.” He released me and I struggled to catch my breath.  As he sat in his chair, I stood before him and lifted the dress over my head.  He caressed the bra while I set the dress aside.  I removed the bra and moved to where I could kneel.  Naked, I knelt with my hands behind my back and eyes down.  But I heard no movement and looked over to him in the chair.  “You are beautiful.” He said.

“Thank you Daddy.” I whispered.  He fills me so much with emotion, words are too fragile to escape me sometimes.

“Eyes down.” I lowered my eyes and he rose to stand before me.  He put his finger under my chin and lifted my face to look up into his eyes.  I felt so vulnerable before him, as if he saw right into the most secret part of me.  My naked submission was laid bare before him. “I’m going to face fuck you slut and you’re going to take it all.”  I nodded.  He held his hand on the back of my neck and pushed me down to his cock.  I opened my mouth wide and he pushed inside.  He was so engorged.  His girth filled my mouth.  I tasted our juices on him. I got his whole length wet and then he began to fuck me.  My mouth held wide, my teeth grinding into my tongue as his cock pummeled the back of my throat.  He uttered guttural sounds as he pulled out to give me a quick breath then he was back to pounding my throat again.  I was buried under him, assaulted by his cock, held by his hands on the back of my head.  I slobbered on him, felt the wet mess at the base of his cock slap my cheeks and lips each time he thrust into me.  I moaned, my tongue hurt but I opened wider each time to take him in, to take the face fucking like a good girl. The submission of it washed over me, the giving and surrender of it filled me.  His cock tortured my mouth but the sacrifice of it incited my passion for him exponentially.  Just as suddenly as it started, it ended.  “Get up slut. Lean over the bed.”

He pushed my face down onto the comforter.  “Reach your hands around and hold your ass cheeks.” My face smashed into the bed, I reached my arms back and held my ass open for him.  His tongue and face assaulted my puckering little hole.  It was warm, wet, and provocative.  He made me squirm and writhe for him.  He stood up against me and rubbed his cock on my wet asshole.  He teased me, taunting me with the thought of him pushing into my ass without me being ready.  I never know where his mind goes. “I should fuck your ass right now.”  I gasped.  He rubbed again me more, pushing harder against my ass. “Your ass is safe, slut….for the moment.” He pushed lower and entered my pussy.  That’s what I wanted.  That’s what I needed. He fucked me good and hard, grabbing my hair roughly at the back of my neck.  His actions drive me more and more into a rushing hunger.  The more he pushes, the more I take, the more I hunger for him.

After a really intense, hard, fast bout of thrusting Daddy pulled out and leaned back.  I felt the ‘all stop’ and sat up to see what happened.  His breathing was labored.  He had the slightest hint of panic on his face. He wasn’t getting enough air.  He sat down and started rummaging for his inhaler.  He took a couple puffs and he began to breath easier. “Well, that’s a mood killer.” He said.  I was only concerned for him at that point. He gets physical activity induced asthma sometimes.  He’s been working hard at the gym and is putting on loads of muscle right now but it takes longer for your lungs to catch up.  We took a break for a few moments.  We both let our breathing return to normal.  “I’m not done with you yet.” He said.  I smiled, I knew he wasn’t.  Nothing stops this man from debauching me in abundant ways.

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