31-05-2025, 10:24 PM
He’s riding faster now.
Fucking me.
Merciless.
No love.
No slow rhythm.
Just raw thrusts.
------------------------------------------
Each stroke—
A slap inside me.
Each push—
My skin ripples.
My breasts jump.
------------------------------------------
His cock is hammering now.
Not stroking.
Not moving.
Hammering.
Like machine.
Like weapon.
------------------------------------------
Water sloshes around us.
Soft splashes.
But his thrusts?
Loud.
Wet.
Heavy.
------------------------------------------
“Thukk… thukk… chukk… chukk…”
Sounds of body on body.
Cock in cunt.
Ass on thighs.
Juice on cock.
------------------------------------------
And my moans?
No words.
No dignity.
Just screams.
“Aaahhh… haan… uhhh… ahhhh…”
------------------------------------------
My voice breaks.
Throat raw.
Face wet.
Breath missing.
------------------------------------------
I’m not controlling anymore.
Not acting.
Not riding.
I’m taken.
Fully.
------------------------------------------
His hands still under my waist.
Gripping.
Holding.
Lifting.
Using.
------------------------------------------
And his cock?
Still inside me.
Still fucking me.
Still growing.
Still harder.
------------------------------------------
How?
How is he still not done?
How much more?
But I can’t ask.
I can’t think.
------------------------------------------
My cunt—
Wide open.
Soaked.
Flushed.
Gripping nothing.
Swallowing everything.
------------------------------------------
I feel it now.
His movement sharper.
No pause.
No slow.
Full speed.
------------------------------------------
He’s moving like animal.
Like possessed man.
Like a slave released.
Like a dog turned bull.
------------------------------------------
He’s under me.
But I’m not on top anymore.
Not really.
He’s fucking through me.
From below.
------------------------------------------
My breasts bounce.
Saree slips.
One strap loose.
My hair flying.
My mouth open.
------------------------------------------
His cock—
I feel it.
Pulsing.
Heavy.
Thick.
Thickest it's ever been.
------------------------------------------
A warning.
Inside me.
A pulse.
A tremble.
A promise.
------------------------------------------
He’s close.
Too close.
His moans grow.
Not loud.
But deep.
From chest.
------------------------------------------
I hear him growl.
A low growl.
Like wild animal about to release.
Like primal beast at edge.
------------------------------------------
And I—
Panic.
Half-panic.
Is he going to cum?
Inside me?
------------------------------------------
I can’t let that happen.
No condom.
No safety.
No plan.
But…
I can’t move.
------------------------------------------
My body?
Dead weight.
Arms numb.
Hips locked.
Thighs shaking.
Mind melting.
------------------------------------------
And worse?
My body wants it.
Wants the warm release.
The ownership.
The ruin.
------------------------------------------
I try to whisper.
Try to say “No…”
But my lips say nothing.
My cunt answers instead.
Clenching tighter.
------------------------------------------
He moans again.
Longer this time.
His hands gripping harder.
His hips hitting stronger.
His thrusts rough now.
------------------------------------------
Final strokes.
Final rage.
Final heaven.
He’s reaching.
And I?
I’m sliding with him.
------------------------------------------
No escape now.
Only one way.
One end.
Shared.
Violent.
Soft.
Final.
------------------------------------------
He pounds me.
One.
Two.
Three.
Harder.
Hardest.
------------------------------------------
Then—
That last thrust.
Full.
Deep.
So deep I feel it in my throat.
So hard my body jumps.
------------------------------------------
Then—
The flood.
Warm.
Thick.
Unstoppable.
------------------------------------------
His cock pulses.
One.
Two.
Three bursts.
Cum.
Seed.
Heat.
Ownership.
------------------------------------------
No pull-out.
No warning.
Just fill.
Just fill.
------------------------------------------
My eyes roll back.
Because the warmth—
Hits me.
Sets something off.
------------------------------------------
A fire.
Low.
Fast.
Spreading.
And I—
I cum too.
------------------------------------------
Like a mess.
Like a scream.
Like a final giving up.
Juice pours.
Shakes rise.
Back arches.
------------------------------------------
My cunt pulses again.
Milks him.
Sucks him.
Takes every drop.
------------------------------------------
I scream.
He moans.
Not a voice.
Just breath.
Just growl.
Just beast.
------------------------------------------
And now—
Both of us.
Stilled.
But joined.
Flooded.
Inside.
Outside.
------------------------------------------
No condom.
No pull-out.
Just skin.
Just cum.
Just surrender.
------------------------------------------
My juice.
His seed.
Together.
Merging.
Mixing.
Inside me.
------------------------------------------
I feel the warmth.
Oozing out.
Running down.
Sticky.
Heavy.
Real.
------------------------------------------
And his moan?
Final.
Quiet.
Deep.
Not pain.
Not joy.
Something else.
------------------------------------------
Like a dog growling into the ground.
Like a man worshipping quietly.
Like my name trapped in his throat.
------------------------------------------
Because—
Both liquids merged.
He's moaning is quiet like animal.
Post orgasm—
I can’t move.
Not even a finger.
I just fall.
Fall tight on him.
Melt.
Collapse.
------------------------------------------
My chest on his chest.
My breasts soft against his skin.
My thighs open.
My cunt wet.
My breath—missing.
------------------------------------------
He doesn’t move either.
Not this time.
No thrust.
No shift.
No smirk.
------------------------------------------
His body—
I feel it under me.
Still hot.
Still rising and falling.
But slower now.
We’re both breathing like animals that ran too far.
------------------------------------------
I felt it.
Two orgasms.
In half hour.
One after riding.
One during his release.
------------------------------------------
It’s not pleasure.
It’s something else.
Beyond.
My bones feel warm.
My soul… floating?
------------------------------------------
No one gave me this before.
Not even close.
Kartik never.
Arjun tried.
But this?
This was wild.
This was ruin.
This was everything I never admitted I wanted.
------------------------------------------
Now he lies.
Under me.
Silent.
Still.
And his cock?
Still inside me.
But…
------------------------------------------
Shrinking.
I feel it.
My pussy still holding it.
But it’s softer.
Looser.
Pulling back.
------------------------------------------
Like it’s saying goodbye.
Like it’s satisfied.
Like it just marked its place and now resting.
------------------------------------------
I’m too weak to rise.
But my face turns.
Slowly.
I look at him.
------------------------------------------
Not as the gate dog.
Not the man I used.
Not the filthy bastard I spat on.
But…
A man.
------------------------------------------
His face.
Now calm.
Eyes soft.
Mouth not smiling.
Not smug.
Just still.
------------------------------------------
And clean.
Not cute.
Not sweet.
But strong.
Mature.
Brown.
Real.
------------------------------------------
A man’s face.
Not a boy’s.
Not a servant.
Just…
Him.
------------------------------------------
His left arm under his head.
Elbow bent.
Lifting his head slightly.
Watching me.
------------------------------------------
And I?
I’m still on his chest.
My saree slipping.
My petticoat wet.
Tank water rising up the fabric.
I don’t care.
Let it soak.
Let it stain.
------------------------------------------
I shift.
Not fully.
Just a little.
Slide to his left.
My body rolls slow, like seaweed floating.
------------------------------------------
Now I’m on his arm.
My head near his shoulder.
My cheek on the inside of his bicep.
My own arm?
Resting on his.
Fingers touching his wrist.
------------------------------------------
And with that motion—
His cock slides out.
------------------------------------------
Pluppp.
That sound.
So soft.
So disgusting.
So final.
------------------------------------------
A last moan escapes me.
“Aaahhh…”
More breath than sound.
More soul than voice.
------------------------------------------
My pussy twitches once.
Missing him.
Feeling empty.
Juice slips out.
Warm liquid trickling between my lips.
------------------------------------------
I don’t check.
I don’t wipe.
I just lie there.
Let my legs stay open.
Let the mess drain.
------------------------------------------
My face nuzzles into his arm.
The smell hits.
His armpit.
Nasty.
Strong.
Sweat layered.
------------------------------------------
But I don’t pull away.
I inhale again.
It’s bad.
But male.
But real.
But his.
------------------------------------------
My leg moves.
Instinct.
I drag it over him.
Right leg across his naked thigh.
My bare thigh rubbing his skin.
Sticky. Slippery. Warm.
------------------------------------------
I feel the hairs on his leg.
Thick. Rough.
But nice.
Comforting.
------------------------------------------
I wrap him.
One leg.
One arm.
Like a lover?
Or something else?
I don’t know.
------------------------------------------
My right arm curls over his chest.
Hand resting just under his collarbone.
My fingers spread.
Like marking him.
Like claiming him.
------------------------------------------
I feel his breath again.
On my hair.
My forehead.
His chest rises under my palm.
It’s calming.
------------------------------------------
And I look up.
Into his face.
His eyes.
------------------------------------------
He’s not blinking.
He’s watching.
Watching me like I’m something holy.
Something broken.
Something he worships but touched.
------------------------------------------
I don’t smile.
But I don’t look away.
My body’s dead.
But my heart?
Something warm.
Some strange pull.
------------------------------------------
I keep watching.
He keeps watching.
No one speaks.
No shame.
No jokes.
No lies.
------------------------------------------
Just skin.
Just mess.
Just us.
Wrapped.
Sore.
Still.
------------------------------------------
And for the first time—
I wonder…
Do I feel love?
Not like movies.
Not like stories.
Just… softness.
Like wanting to stay for five more minutes.
------------------------------------------
His eyes answer nothing.
But they don’t leave me.
And I?
I stay wrapped.
Still touching him.
Still leaking.
Still wrecked.
------------------------------------------
Still looking at him.
And…
He’s also looking at me.
------------------------------------------
Eyes steady.
Soft.
Not lusty.
Just… there.
Still under me.
Still with me.
------------------------------------------
Then his voice.
Low.
Breathless.
Tired.
Almost sweet.
“Madam… are you fine?”
------------------------------------------
I smiled.
Lips didn’t open.
Then a tiny laugh slipped out.
Not loud.
But real.
------------------------------------------
My hand curled.
Still on his chest.
Still resting.
I looked at him from side of my eye.
Lazy voice.
Mocking tone.
“You want feedback ah?”
------------------------------------------
Then I lifted my arm slightly.
One soft slap.
Right on his chin.
Not hard.
Not angry.
But slow.
Warm.
With affection I didn’t plan to give.
------------------------------------------
He blinked.
Didn’t expect it.
Didn’t move.
But I saw that smile forming.
Inside him.
On his lips.
In his chest.
------------------------------------------
I stayed on his arm.
Didn’t rise.
Didn’t change position.
His arm was pillow.
My saree?
Still soaking.
Tank water now reaching my hip.
But I didn’t care.
------------------------------------------
He’s nude.
Still.
I’m fully dressed.
Still.
But we both bare.
Inside.
Between.
Everywhere it matters.
------------------------------------------
No one spoke.
Silence.
Just breath.
Slow exhales.
Sticky thighs.
Quiet water.
Warm cunt.
Soft cock.
------------------------------------------
Fifteen minutes?
Maybe more.
I stopped counting time after the second orgasm.
My hand started moving.
Naturally.
No thought.
No shame.
------------------------------------------
From his chest.
To his stomach.
Then lower.
Across soft belly hair.
To that place.
That warm, sticky, heavy place.
------------------------------------------
I found it.
His cock.
Down.
Relaxed.
Still wet.
Still coated in our sin.
------------------------------------------
I touched it.
Fingers soft.
Like touching something holy.
Or something broken.
Or both.
------------------------------------------
It twitched slightly.
Alive.
But not ready.
I smiled again.
Quietly.
To myself.
------------------------------------------
I held it fully now.
Soft meat.
Flesh of the man I called dog.
Now in my hand.
Resting.
------------------------------------------
I moved fingers.
Played with tip.
Squeezed slightly.
Pushed skin down.
Then up.
Then around.
------------------------------------------
It was sticky.
With both our juices.
I didn’t wipe.
Didn’t flinch.
Let it stay on my fingers.
Like perfume.
------------------------------------------
My palm dragged over his shaft.
Slow strokes.
Not to arouse.
To own.
To test.
------------------------------------------
Then my fingers moved lower.
To his balls.
Soft pouch.
Heavy.
Covered in hair.
------------------------------------------
I cupped it.
Lifted it.
Rolled it.
He breathed harder.
Didn’t stop me.
Didn’t ask.
------------------------------------------
Then I grinned.
One small wicked grin.
And pinched one hair.
Just one.
Near the base.
And pulled.
Hard.
------------------------------------------
“Ouch!”
He cried.
Like small boy.
Voice sharp.
Sudden.
Funny.
------------------------------------------
I laughed.
Open laugh now.
Not loud.
But clear.
Warm water shook under me.
He looked at me.
Half angry.
Half shocked.
Half turned on.
------------------------------------------
And I leaned in.
Closer.
Not to speak.
But to give.
My lips touched his chin.
One kiss.
Soft.
Still wet from sweat.
------------------------------------------
He froze.
Didn’t expect that.
Didn’t ask for it.
Didn’t know what to do.
------------------------------------------
It was my first kiss to him.
Not during moan.
Not during fuck.
But now.
After.
When silence made it deeper.
------------------------------------------
I kissed and pulled back.
Returned to same place.
My head on his shoulder.
My arm across his chest.
My leg still over his thigh.
------------------------------------------
And his cock?
It twitched.
Just once.
Then again.
Not full.
But coming back.
Semi-erect.
Ready.
Curious.
------------------------------------------
And I?
Still holding it.
Still playing.
Still tracing lines of his skin.
------------------------------------------
Then I spoke.
Voice calm.
Not angry.
Not loving.
Just sharp.
Curious.
Cold.
“From day one, you were staring at me.”
------------------------------------------
His breath caught.
I felt it in his chest.
“Like a dog.”
“Quiet. Obsessed.”
------------------------------------------
He didn’t deny.
Didn’t defend.
Just swallowed once.
Waited.
------------------------------------------
I squeezed his cock softly.
Still looking ahead.
Not into his eyes.
“So you got what you wanted now.”
“Happy?”
------------------------------------------
His voice didn’t rush.
Didn’t act smart.
Just nodded.
And said—
“Yes, madam.”
------------------------------------------
That word.
Madam.
Still.
Even now.
After everything.
After what I gave.
He still called me that.
And it hit me.
Like soft rain.
------------------------------------------
He still respected me.
Even lying naked.
Even leaking from me.
Even with my hand on his cock.
Fucking me.
Merciless.
No love.
No slow rhythm.
Just raw thrusts.
------------------------------------------
Each stroke—
A slap inside me.
Each push—
My skin ripples.
My breasts jump.
------------------------------------------
His cock is hammering now.
Not stroking.
Not moving.
Hammering.
Like machine.
Like weapon.
------------------------------------------
Water sloshes around us.
Soft splashes.
But his thrusts?
Loud.
Wet.
Heavy.
------------------------------------------
“Thukk… thukk… chukk… chukk…”
Sounds of body on body.
Cock in cunt.
Ass on thighs.
Juice on cock.
------------------------------------------
And my moans?
No words.
No dignity.
Just screams.
“Aaahhh… haan… uhhh… ahhhh…”
------------------------------------------
My voice breaks.
Throat raw.
Face wet.
Breath missing.
------------------------------------------
I’m not controlling anymore.
Not acting.
Not riding.
I’m taken.
Fully.
------------------------------------------
His hands still under my waist.
Gripping.
Holding.
Lifting.
Using.
------------------------------------------
And his cock?
Still inside me.
Still fucking me.
Still growing.
Still harder.
------------------------------------------
How?
How is he still not done?
How much more?
But I can’t ask.
I can’t think.
------------------------------------------
My cunt—
Wide open.
Soaked.
Flushed.
Gripping nothing.
Swallowing everything.
------------------------------------------
I feel it now.
His movement sharper.
No pause.
No slow.
Full speed.
------------------------------------------
He’s moving like animal.
Like possessed man.
Like a slave released.
Like a dog turned bull.
------------------------------------------
He’s under me.
But I’m not on top anymore.
Not really.
He’s fucking through me.
From below.
------------------------------------------
My breasts bounce.
Saree slips.
One strap loose.
My hair flying.
My mouth open.
------------------------------------------
His cock—
I feel it.
Pulsing.
Heavy.
Thick.
Thickest it's ever been.
------------------------------------------
A warning.
Inside me.
A pulse.
A tremble.
A promise.
------------------------------------------
He’s close.
Too close.
His moans grow.
Not loud.
But deep.
From chest.
------------------------------------------
I hear him growl.
A low growl.
Like wild animal about to release.
Like primal beast at edge.
------------------------------------------
And I—
Panic.
Half-panic.
Is he going to cum?
Inside me?
------------------------------------------
I can’t let that happen.
No condom.
No safety.
No plan.
But…
I can’t move.
------------------------------------------
My body?
Dead weight.
Arms numb.
Hips locked.
Thighs shaking.
Mind melting.
------------------------------------------
And worse?
My body wants it.
Wants the warm release.
The ownership.
The ruin.
------------------------------------------
I try to whisper.
Try to say “No…”
But my lips say nothing.
My cunt answers instead.
Clenching tighter.
------------------------------------------
He moans again.
Longer this time.
His hands gripping harder.
His hips hitting stronger.
His thrusts rough now.
------------------------------------------
Final strokes.
Final rage.
Final heaven.
He’s reaching.
And I?
I’m sliding with him.
------------------------------------------
No escape now.
Only one way.
One end.
Shared.
Violent.
Soft.
Final.
------------------------------------------
He pounds me.
One.
Two.
Three.
Harder.
Hardest.
------------------------------------------
Then—
That last thrust.
Full.
Deep.
So deep I feel it in my throat.
So hard my body jumps.
------------------------------------------
Then—
The flood.
Warm.
Thick.
Unstoppable.
------------------------------------------
His cock pulses.
One.
Two.
Three bursts.
Cum.
Seed.
Heat.
Ownership.
------------------------------------------
No pull-out.
No warning.
Just fill.
Just fill.
------------------------------------------
My eyes roll back.
Because the warmth—
Hits me.
Sets something off.
------------------------------------------
A fire.
Low.
Fast.
Spreading.
And I—
I cum too.
------------------------------------------
Like a mess.
Like a scream.
Like a final giving up.
Juice pours.
Shakes rise.
Back arches.
------------------------------------------
My cunt pulses again.
Milks him.
Sucks him.
Takes every drop.
------------------------------------------
I scream.
He moans.
Not a voice.
Just breath.
Just growl.
Just beast.
------------------------------------------
And now—
Both of us.
Stilled.
But joined.
Flooded.
Inside.
Outside.
------------------------------------------
No condom.
No pull-out.
Just skin.
Just cum.
Just surrender.
------------------------------------------
My juice.
His seed.
Together.
Merging.
Mixing.
Inside me.
------------------------------------------
I feel the warmth.
Oozing out.
Running down.
Sticky.
Heavy.
Real.
------------------------------------------
And his moan?
Final.
Quiet.
Deep.
Not pain.
Not joy.
Something else.
------------------------------------------
Like a dog growling into the ground.
Like a man worshipping quietly.
Like my name trapped in his throat.
------------------------------------------
Because—
Both liquids merged.
He's moaning is quiet like animal.
Post orgasm—
I can’t move.
Not even a finger.
I just fall.
Fall tight on him.
Melt.
Collapse.
------------------------------------------
My chest on his chest.
My breasts soft against his skin.
My thighs open.
My cunt wet.
My breath—missing.
------------------------------------------
He doesn’t move either.
Not this time.
No thrust.
No shift.
No smirk.
------------------------------------------
His body—
I feel it under me.
Still hot.
Still rising and falling.
But slower now.
We’re both breathing like animals that ran too far.
------------------------------------------
I felt it.
Two orgasms.
In half hour.
One after riding.
One during his release.
------------------------------------------
It’s not pleasure.
It’s something else.
Beyond.
My bones feel warm.
My soul… floating?
------------------------------------------
No one gave me this before.
Not even close.
Kartik never.
Arjun tried.
But this?
This was wild.
This was ruin.
This was everything I never admitted I wanted.
------------------------------------------
Now he lies.
Under me.
Silent.
Still.
And his cock?
Still inside me.
But…
------------------------------------------
Shrinking.
I feel it.
My pussy still holding it.
But it’s softer.
Looser.
Pulling back.
------------------------------------------
Like it’s saying goodbye.
Like it’s satisfied.
Like it just marked its place and now resting.
------------------------------------------
I’m too weak to rise.
But my face turns.
Slowly.
I look at him.
------------------------------------------
Not as the gate dog.
Not the man I used.
Not the filthy bastard I spat on.
But…
A man.
------------------------------------------
His face.
Now calm.
Eyes soft.
Mouth not smiling.
Not smug.
Just still.
------------------------------------------
And clean.
Not cute.
Not sweet.
But strong.
Mature.
Brown.
Real.
------------------------------------------
A man’s face.
Not a boy’s.
Not a servant.
Just…
Him.
------------------------------------------
His left arm under his head.
Elbow bent.
Lifting his head slightly.
Watching me.
------------------------------------------
And I?
I’m still on his chest.
My saree slipping.
My petticoat wet.
Tank water rising up the fabric.
I don’t care.
Let it soak.
Let it stain.
------------------------------------------
I shift.
Not fully.
Just a little.
Slide to his left.
My body rolls slow, like seaweed floating.
------------------------------------------
Now I’m on his arm.
My head near his shoulder.
My cheek on the inside of his bicep.
My own arm?
Resting on his.
Fingers touching his wrist.
------------------------------------------
And with that motion—
His cock slides out.
------------------------------------------
Pluppp.
That sound.
So soft.
So disgusting.
So final.
------------------------------------------
A last moan escapes me.
“Aaahhh…”
More breath than sound.
More soul than voice.
------------------------------------------
My pussy twitches once.
Missing him.
Feeling empty.
Juice slips out.
Warm liquid trickling between my lips.
------------------------------------------
I don’t check.
I don’t wipe.
I just lie there.
Let my legs stay open.
Let the mess drain.
------------------------------------------
My face nuzzles into his arm.
The smell hits.
His armpit.
Nasty.
Strong.
Sweat layered.
------------------------------------------
But I don’t pull away.
I inhale again.
It’s bad.
But male.
But real.
But his.
------------------------------------------
My leg moves.
Instinct.
I drag it over him.
Right leg across his naked thigh.
My bare thigh rubbing his skin.
Sticky. Slippery. Warm.
------------------------------------------
I feel the hairs on his leg.
Thick. Rough.
But nice.
Comforting.
------------------------------------------
I wrap him.
One leg.
One arm.
Like a lover?
Or something else?
I don’t know.
------------------------------------------
My right arm curls over his chest.
Hand resting just under his collarbone.
My fingers spread.
Like marking him.
Like claiming him.
------------------------------------------
I feel his breath again.
On my hair.
My forehead.
His chest rises under my palm.
It’s calming.
------------------------------------------
And I look up.
Into his face.
His eyes.
------------------------------------------
He’s not blinking.
He’s watching.
Watching me like I’m something holy.
Something broken.
Something he worships but touched.
------------------------------------------
I don’t smile.
But I don’t look away.
My body’s dead.
But my heart?
Something warm.
Some strange pull.
------------------------------------------
I keep watching.
He keeps watching.
No one speaks.
No shame.
No jokes.
No lies.
------------------------------------------
Just skin.
Just mess.
Just us.
Wrapped.
Sore.
Still.
------------------------------------------
And for the first time—
I wonder…
Do I feel love?
Not like movies.
Not like stories.
Just… softness.
Like wanting to stay for five more minutes.
------------------------------------------
His eyes answer nothing.
But they don’t leave me.
And I?
I stay wrapped.
Still touching him.
Still leaking.
Still wrecked.
------------------------------------------
Still looking at him.
And…
He’s also looking at me.
------------------------------------------
Eyes steady.
Soft.
Not lusty.
Just… there.
Still under me.
Still with me.
------------------------------------------
Then his voice.
Low.
Breathless.
Tired.
Almost sweet.
“Madam… are you fine?”
------------------------------------------
I smiled.
Lips didn’t open.
Then a tiny laugh slipped out.
Not loud.
But real.
------------------------------------------
My hand curled.
Still on his chest.
Still resting.
I looked at him from side of my eye.
Lazy voice.
Mocking tone.
“You want feedback ah?”
------------------------------------------
Then I lifted my arm slightly.
One soft slap.
Right on his chin.
Not hard.
Not angry.
But slow.
Warm.
With affection I didn’t plan to give.
------------------------------------------
He blinked.
Didn’t expect it.
Didn’t move.
But I saw that smile forming.
Inside him.
On his lips.
In his chest.
------------------------------------------
I stayed on his arm.
Didn’t rise.
Didn’t change position.
His arm was pillow.
My saree?
Still soaking.
Tank water now reaching my hip.
But I didn’t care.
------------------------------------------
He’s nude.
Still.
I’m fully dressed.
Still.
But we both bare.
Inside.
Between.
Everywhere it matters.
------------------------------------------
No one spoke.
Silence.
Just breath.
Slow exhales.
Sticky thighs.
Quiet water.
Warm cunt.
Soft cock.
------------------------------------------
Fifteen minutes?
Maybe more.
I stopped counting time after the second orgasm.
My hand started moving.
Naturally.
No thought.
No shame.
------------------------------------------
From his chest.
To his stomach.
Then lower.
Across soft belly hair.
To that place.
That warm, sticky, heavy place.
------------------------------------------
I found it.
His cock.
Down.
Relaxed.
Still wet.
Still coated in our sin.
------------------------------------------
I touched it.
Fingers soft.
Like touching something holy.
Or something broken.
Or both.
------------------------------------------
It twitched slightly.
Alive.
But not ready.
I smiled again.
Quietly.
To myself.
------------------------------------------
I held it fully now.
Soft meat.
Flesh of the man I called dog.
Now in my hand.
Resting.
------------------------------------------
I moved fingers.
Played with tip.
Squeezed slightly.
Pushed skin down.
Then up.
Then around.
------------------------------------------
It was sticky.
With both our juices.
I didn’t wipe.
Didn’t flinch.
Let it stay on my fingers.
Like perfume.
------------------------------------------
My palm dragged over his shaft.
Slow strokes.
Not to arouse.
To own.
To test.
------------------------------------------
Then my fingers moved lower.
To his balls.
Soft pouch.
Heavy.
Covered in hair.
------------------------------------------
I cupped it.
Lifted it.
Rolled it.
He breathed harder.
Didn’t stop me.
Didn’t ask.
------------------------------------------
Then I grinned.
One small wicked grin.
And pinched one hair.
Just one.
Near the base.
And pulled.
Hard.
------------------------------------------
“Ouch!”
He cried.
Like small boy.
Voice sharp.
Sudden.
Funny.
------------------------------------------
I laughed.
Open laugh now.
Not loud.
But clear.
Warm water shook under me.
He looked at me.
Half angry.
Half shocked.
Half turned on.
------------------------------------------
And I leaned in.
Closer.
Not to speak.
But to give.
My lips touched his chin.
One kiss.
Soft.
Still wet from sweat.
------------------------------------------
He froze.
Didn’t expect that.
Didn’t ask for it.
Didn’t know what to do.
------------------------------------------
It was my first kiss to him.
Not during moan.
Not during fuck.
But now.
After.
When silence made it deeper.
------------------------------------------
I kissed and pulled back.
Returned to same place.
My head on his shoulder.
My arm across his chest.
My leg still over his thigh.
------------------------------------------
And his cock?
It twitched.
Just once.
Then again.
Not full.
But coming back.
Semi-erect.
Ready.
Curious.
------------------------------------------
And I?
Still holding it.
Still playing.
Still tracing lines of his skin.
------------------------------------------
Then I spoke.
Voice calm.
Not angry.
Not loving.
Just sharp.
Curious.
Cold.
“From day one, you were staring at me.”
------------------------------------------
His breath caught.
I felt it in his chest.
“Like a dog.”
“Quiet. Obsessed.”
------------------------------------------
He didn’t deny.
Didn’t defend.
Just swallowed once.
Waited.
------------------------------------------
I squeezed his cock softly.
Still looking ahead.
Not into his eyes.
“So you got what you wanted now.”
“Happy?”
------------------------------------------
His voice didn’t rush.
Didn’t act smart.
Just nodded.
And said—
“Yes, madam.”
------------------------------------------
That word.
Madam.
Still.
Even now.
After everything.
After what I gave.
He still called me that.
And it hit me.
Like soft rain.
------------------------------------------
He still respected me.
Even lying naked.
Even leaking from me.
Even with my hand on his cock.
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