As I said then, I wanted so badly for him to fuck me. My tiredness had all faded away to be replaced by a desire to have him inside me. But I was in full-on sub mode and didn’t think it my place to decide whether or not he would take me. He was the one in control here. If he wanted to take me, I would be taken. If not, I would wait eagerly.
I turned from where I had been lying flat on my back, recovering, and pressed into him. We were warm in the night air but I still loved the heat his body gave off. I wrapped around him slightly, curled into his flank, and snuggled into his neck. He smelt of warmth and skin and an indefinable Crushness. My mouth was near his ear. So, I’d decided not to ask him to fuck me, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t help swing the vote a little.
I let myself breathe a little more heavily than usual, knowing what it does to him. My breath tickled his ear and my slight sounds, his imagination.
He tensed a little under me and looked me in the eyes.
“I want to fuck you,” he said and my heart leapt. The wave of a grin spread inside me and my face itself must have changed. He knew I had been tired and wasn’t certain about getting a favourable response, but that wasn’t a problem any more. As coyly as I could manage I replied, “I think I can manage that”.
Like a shot he had sprung upwards from the bed and twisted himself athletically around my leg, coming to rest in between my thighs. It was one smooth movement and the speed caught me off-guard. Before I knew it he had grabbed my legs and was using them to pull me into better position.
I could not wait.
I wanted so badly for him to take me, to make me his in the best way possible. His cock was at my entrance and I pulsed with anticipation. The head of his sex prodded at me and then slid inside, a centimetre at a time. Good lord, he felt huge. I mean, he is huge, but sometimes he really feels it more than others. It was just what I needed. I love to thrill and wince at how large he is. I love him to feel just slightly too big for me. I love to feel like I’m being opened up wide.
I yowled as he thrust all the way. I was tender from his earlier attention and he felt wonderfully hard and rough already. I’m a masochist, I admit it, so feeling the pleasure/pain of his cock just makes it all the better. That sort of “oof!” sensation is so good.
He pinned me down by the shoulders, resting his weight on me, and began to slide in and out of me quite firmly. “Harder,” I begged and Crush fucked me harder, pounding into my pussy. I wanted to be taken roughly, to be fucked without restraint. I wanted so badly for it to be yet more punishment as well as pleasure, to be sore and rough and yet oh-so-good. So good.
My desires took flight from my mouth almost without care as to what he would think of them. “Hurt me,” I gushed. Ordinarily I would worry what he thought of this, but I had nothing left but the need to be fucked hard. He did so. He thumped into me, causing me to wriggle underneath him and flooding me with glorious gasps, pain-thrills, pleasure-throbs and submission.
It was awesome.
My climax neared and I could hear his breath getting ragged, his neck muscles tensing and his face showing the beauty of a body close to rapture. I began to come, my walls hugging his erection, tipping him over the edge. As his face changed I groaned to him: “Yes! Fill me up!”
He moaned hard and his juices flowed into me. He would have come then anyway, but my insistence on being filled with him and his come made it all the more intense. He told me later that he had loved to hear that.
His cock twitched inside me as his orgasm died and my own also came to an end. I was in a state of wonderful bliss, filled to the brim with his liquid. I wanted him to own me and he had. He did.
I was, after all, his little Bad Kitty… ♦