Tainted Love

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Babes

Tainted LoveA few years ago I almost cheated on my husband. I fucked up. I let myself get caught up in an affair of the heart. Nothing physical ever happened with him, but I definitely wanted it to. We’d met on a forum for connoisseurs of the macabre. We bonded over a love of cheesy horror movies and not so loved music. We genuinely shared a deep understanding of one another. But the thing that most connected us was a mutual interest in S&M. I was a masochist, he was a sadist. The late nights on the phone, the playful flirting, and a willingness to ruin what was my life currently for a bit of excitement. He was passionate in a way that my husband wasn’t. He made me feel, not only wanted, but actively desired. His sex drive gave mine a run for the money. In another life I would have met him before my husband, but I didn’t, so I was resigned to relegating him to the fantasy that played over and over again in my head. It always started the same way, he checks in to the hotel I work at and I don’t recognize him at first. I’d seen photos and we’d video chatted, but never did anything offline. Had he lived closer to me, I would have cheated on my husband without a doubt, but he was nearly 2000 miles away, a safe enough distance for me to stay mostly faithful. I cut contact with him when I realized how tempted I was. It was hard. It hurt. I cried and grieved a relationship that couldn’t be and never really was. I thought he was out of my life for good.He didn’t look exactly the same in person. He had dark wavy hair that fell to his shoulders, a bright smile and soft blue eyes. He was taller than I thought, standing a good 6” above me. I checked him in to the hotel, he used a fake name and I didn’t think anything of it until I handed him the key to his room. He grabbed the key and stroked his thumb across my hand, “Thank-you, Kaylen.”I looked up when I heard him say my name. He always said it on the exhale, like it hurt to let it go. I narrowed my eyes at him and tilted my head. He smiled and turned around to leave, but I came around from the counter and stopped him, “Wes? What are you doing here?”He shrugged and looked back towards the office behind my counter, “Is he here?” he asked. I shook my head. My husband, he was asking if my husband was working with me. Some nights he did, but most days we had different schedules with slight overlaps. He smirked and looked me over, “Can you get away from the desk for a while?”“No, I-I can’t. You didn’t answer me, what are you doing here?” I asked again.He looked around, “Are there any cameras?” I shook my head again. He leaned down and kissed me softly on the lips. It was a very light kiss, barely any contact between us. He stood back up and rubbed his thumb across my lips and I did nothing to pull away. He winked at me, “You know where I’m staying.” I pouted, but he just turned and walked away from me, heading down to his room. The rest of my night was chaotic at best. I found myself walking to the hallway that held his room half a dozen times, but turned around before I headed down it. This was not okay. My husband and I worked together, when I wasn’t here, he was. This was insane, it would never work out the way Wes was hoping it would. At the end of my shift I was still pining for him. Feeling the urge to run down to his room and hand myself over to him freely, but I resisted. I went home and kissed my husband deeply, wantonly. He quickly pulled his lips away from mine, “I’ve got to get to work, I don’t have time for this Kayle,” he looked me over, grimacing slightly as he pushed me away from him.I nodded and went into the bathroom to take a shower. I heard the front door close and the car start as I turned on the water. I sat on the bottom of the tub and cried as warm water flowed over me. I felt like such a burden to my husband. My needs flustered him. I loved him, but he really wasn’t capable of loving me the way I needed to be loved. I took a shower, washed the day from my skin and hair then went to see what I could do to distract myself. My mind kept wandering back to my former friend. He was sitting alone in his room, in the hotel my fucking husband managed. In all honesty, I was afraid he might tell my husband about the things we had done. It wasn’t physical, but it was bad. He had pictures. Hundreds of pictures of me in various outfits and states of undress. He could show any one of them to my husband and completely ruin my marriage. I don’t even know why I was so worried about saving a marriage that left me feeling so fucking lonely. But I was. I felt like I owed him my life because it only existed because of him. I was 19 when I met him. I had just come out of an abusive relationship and had my heart broken by someone I saw as my best friend. I was lost and felt so fucking worthless and like I was just a burdensome waste of space. I was just about to enslave myself to an older man in the town I grew up in. When I was 16 I cleaned his house when his wife was out of town. She died. He was lonely and wealthy and well respected and much much older than I was. He promised to look after me, but I still had a scar down my back from the last time I had been in his house. Then the man who is now my husband came into my life. I made a phone call one night. I guess I was just reaching out to hear a human voice, to maybe pull me back from the edge. The older man didn’t answer, but the man I eventually married did. He talked to me for hours and even got me to laugh. I’d been sitting on a bridge, ready to step off the edge and into the river below and he got me to laugh. I owed him my life. He deserved to have a faithful and loving wife. I thought I could be that for him. I thought it would be much easier than it actually was. I was lonely all the time. He was there physically, not emotionally, but physically, and not sexually. He just didn’t have much of a sex drive, that was all me. I was kind of desperate to prove my worth and the only worth I ever felt I had was in being fucked. At first he wanted me all the time. We fucked a lot, then he started losing interest. I wore lingerie, I worked out, I did everything I could to keep his interest in me from waning but it still waned. And I became lonely. So when this friend showed interest in getting to know me, I felt useful again. We talked for months before he ever even asked to see what I looked like, but it was only weeks after that I was sending him any photo he asked of me. By the end of the year either I was watching him masturbate or he was watching me. It all came crashing down when he started talking about meeting. I wasn’t open to that. I wasn’t willing to cross that line and I just ghosted him. Disappeared without a word. He was still on my mind for quite some time and for the past couple of years I’d questioned if I’d made a mistake. What if he was better for me? What if he made me happy? What if I didn’t have to stay stuck in a marriage I entered into out of a sense of obligation? He could force my hand with ease. I often checked various amateur porn sites, expecting the photos I’d sent to be posted in anger, calling me a teasing cunt or something. He didn’t though. Or, at least if he did, I hadn’t found them yet. He was twenty minutes away in the hotel where my husband and I worked and all I could think of was how his lips tasted slightly of cinnamon and his skin had a peppery musk that I found intoxicating. All I had to do was go to work and knock on his door. I could fuck him with my husband just down the hall and he could hear us and he’d never know. My stomach tightened and my hands were sliding over my body before I even realized it. My phone rang and I answered it, wiping the tears from my eyes as I composed myself and shut off the water. His voice was just like I remembered it and I nearly fell as I stepped out of the tub. “Your husband is a nice guy. I thought I should meet the man you were so scared of losing. I can see why you made the choice you did. He’s a pure gentleman, and handsome as well. I’ll be gone by the morning. I just wanted move forward and I couldn’t do that until I’d known what I’d lost and why,” he said. “I-I…” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, “I don’t want you…”He interrupted me, “I know. I’ll be out of your hair at check-out in the morning. Don’t worry.” “To go?” I finished in a sigh. “My shift starts at 10 PM. I have some paperwork I have to do first, but he’ll be gone and I can get caught up in helping a guest for a little while. If you want…” “I definitely want,” he said with a slight chuckle, “but you don’t have to appease me you know?” “I’m not. I just…want to know too. What I gave up, I mean,” I said. I slept fitfully. Anxiously waking and checking the time every little bit. My husband got home at 8, just as I was getting up to get ready. He tried to kiss my neck and I pulled away, still hurt from that morning. He looked disappointed but I just kept getting ready. “Anything I should know before I head in?” I asked as I was putting on my shoes. He looked at me sadly, “I’m sorry I snapped at you this morning. I love you, you know?” I nodded and forced a smile, “I know. It’s fine. I’m fine. Anything about work I should know?”“There’s a storm coming through. I already have the sump pump going, just check on it and if the power goes out, call Donny to set up the sup generator,” he said as he headed into the bathroom to get ready for bed.I left in a hurry, almost excited as I made my way to my car and drove the hour to work. All the while I worried about him coming down to help with the storm. He hadn’t done that in a few years though. He knows I can handle it. Some part of me hoped the power went out. 99% of my job is done on a computer and when the power goes out, I basically get to crash in an empty room and sleep until it comes back on. I had something else on my mind tonight though.When I got in, I was soaked to the bone and laughing as my co-worker was standing by the front door with a towel waiting for me, “Is Emmy here yet?” I asked. He shook his head, “She called in, her power’s out at home and her babysitter can’t get to her place because of a downed tree between them. You and I are it tonight and our power has already flickered twice.” He barely got the word out before the entire room flashed dark and stayed that way. He flipped on a flashlight, “Never mind, power’s out.” I nodded, “So much for getting work done. Do you want to go home? The main gennie is going so our main lights will be up in a minute, supp is easy enough to start on my own.” He shook his head, “Nah, I’ll take the desk, you field the guests and keep them from bothering me,” he laughed as he motioned me away from the lobby. I nodded and started down the hall, assuring the few heads poking out of darkened rooms that all was well and the storm was just doing its thing. I got to Wes’s room and knocked. He answered and smiled when he saw me, “Power’s out,” he said. I nodded and he opened the door a little wider, inviting me inside. I hesitated and looked down the hall. We had exactly one hall with six customers tonight. 3 of the 6 had already been assured all was good, Wes was a 4th, and the other two I was hoping were just sound asleep and unaware. I stepped into the room and he closed the door behind me. We weren’t well lit, there was just a small emergency light illuminating the entry of the room and fading quickly as it reached the bed area. He came up behind me and started kissing the side of my neck. I pulled away, “Stop, that’s not…I can’t be that for you.” I turned and looked at him, he nodded, “Don’t lie to me. I think I got to know you pretty well over that year. Better than he does anyway,” he scoffed. I lifted my eyes to him without moving, “I didn’t say I didn’t want to…I said I can’t. I stopped talking to you because I felt like I was losing control of myself.” He tilted his head slightly, “You don’t want to hand control over to me?” His thumb traced its way over my lower lip as the rest of his hand cupped my jaw. I kept eye contact with him and didn’t pull away. The problem was that I did want to hand control over to him, and he knew it. He leaned down and kissed me again, rubbing my jaw and curling his fingers just beneath my ear to pull me in closer to him. This wasn’t a gentle lips barely illegal bahis brushing together kind of kiss. He pushed me back against the door and kissed me roughly and deeply, one hand held me firmly by the jaw, the other slid down the front of my blouse, carefully unbuttoning the barricade between his flesh and mine. I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, his hand went to my neck and pinned me to the door with a firm grip, “Was everything you told me about yourself a lie? You told me you wanted passion and primal reactions instead of carefully coordinated intimacy.” I shook my head, “I wasn’t lying,” I said as my hands grabbed his wrist and tried to pry his hand from my throat. He wasn’t squeezing or trying to hurt me at all, just hold me still. “I want a lot of things that I can’t have. You learn to live with it.” He smirked slightly, “Or you want me to take it so it’s not on your head? I can make it not your fault, not your choice, if that’s what you’re afraid of? You can tell him someone made you…” My lower lip quivered and I looked at him, “I don’t want that. I don’t. I wanted passion, not…that…I-I…” I trailed off and broke eye contact with him. He brought his lips down close to my ear, “What about all those times you told me you thought it would be exciting for me to sneak into your house while your husband was at work and tie you to your bed. All those times you wanted me to cut your pretty clothes away from your body and make you my whore?” A few rogue tears fell down my cheeks, “They were fantasies, just thoughts. They weren’t real, just words.” His lips kissed from my ear to my jaw and over to my lips again, his free hand pulled my exposed bra down, freeing my breasts to rest on top of the fabric that had confined them, “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you and I’ll stop, until then…” he let go of my throat and lowered his lips to my breasts. I made no move to leave, I didn’t say anything as he sucked and bit at my nipples and tits, groping and fondling them as I closed my eyes and made no effort to stop it. I’d promised him all that time ago that I’d never lie to him, and I hadn’t yet. I knew he was carefully choosing how he spoke and what he said to push that aspect with me. I’d either have to lie to him or endure. I twisted my body away from him and fixed my bra and shirt. I kept my eyes on my shirt as I buttoned it back up, “I don’t want to fuck you,” barely a whisper was all I could manage. He sighed and grabbed my shoulder, “You’re lying to me Kayle. You promised you’d never do that.” I shook my head and turned to look at him, “You didn’t say I had to mean it when I said it. You gave me a safe sentence instead of a word, I used it.” I headed back to the door, but my legs were noticeably wobbly as I pushed myself forward. I looked at him, he was scowling at me, anger hiding hurt undoubtedly. My eyes settled on his, even in the barely lit entryway they were mesmerizing, “Why wait so long to come see me? You’ve known where I lived and worked all this time.” He nodded, “I came before, a few months after you stopped talking to me. I was worried. When I saw you were okay, I just left. You were with him, you looked happy. I left it alone and accepted it.” “What made you change your mind?” I asked. “I’ve never met anyone else like you. You have a charm that draws people in, a quick wit, and a complete willingness to bare your soul to them once they’ve proven themselves honest, kind, and trustworthy,” he said as he scrolled through his phone and pulled up a photo of me. He tossed his phone to me. It wasn’t one of the best photos or even a dirty photo. I was wearing jeans and a tank top with a button up shirt turned into a crop-top and tied at my waist. My lower lip was partially caught by my teeth and I was looking past the camera. I had been crying just a few minutes before I took this photo, and I only took it because he asked me to send him a photo of what I was doing right then. My eyeliner and mascara was streaked in grey lines down my cheeks and my lipstick had been smeared off with the back of my hand just moments ago. It was still visible in the bottom of the picture, the back of my thumb caked in a deep red cream that stained my lips.He took a few steps closer to me and nodded to the picture on his screen, “That’s the only one that actually felt like I was seeing you. The others were gorgeous, inviting, sexy, and very enjoyable, but that’s the only one you ever sent me that made me want to protect you. You know my fantasies, you know my demeanor. You kept talking to me even when I told you I may not be able to control myself around you. You encouraged it and even seemed to relish it. Do you know how hard other girls have tried to get me to want them like I wanted you?” He put his hand on the door and held it closed behind me, his other hand motioned to me dismissively, “This is not the person I got to know. This person is stand-offish, kinda bitchy, and just a tease.” He took his phone back from me gently and looked at the photo, “That’s the woman I got to know, vulnerable, adventurous, needy. She’s the one I came to see, so tell me how I get you to become her again?” I pushed myself back against the door, trying to keep some distance between us but he closed the gap. He put his phone back in his pocket and turned back to me, slamming his hand on the door right beside my head, causing me to jump. My heart was racing. He leaned down and licked my collarbone and up my neck, then bit my neck gently. I took a deep breath and moaned. He smiled and moved down to the bend where my neck meets my shoulder and bit me a little harder. My breath quickened and his hand slid down my body until it was on my thigh, sliding up between my thighs and beneath my skirt. His fingers found their way beneath the thin fabric I wore and he pushed his middle and ringer fingers into me. I could feel him smile against my shoulder as he bit me hard on my shoulder I winced and clenched up, squeezing his fingers tightly, “Well, this is definitely not from the rain, Flower.” My stomach tensed as the name he’d used for me lingered on my ears. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it. I bit my lip and he turned my head towards him as he began to finger me, moving them in and out of me, pushing against my g-spot and smiling every time I moaned and trembled.His lips closed on mine and he muffled the soft whimpers escaping me as his fingers moved faster and his thumb put just the right amount of pressure on my clit. I was crying. I kinda couldn’t help it. I felt o torn between how amazing it felt to feel so desired and how fucked it felt to be allowing someone who wasn’t my husband to pleasure my body. My legs got weak and I grabbed his wrist as his hard, fast fingering pushed me closer toward my orgasm. I was nearly panting and he didn’t let up. In fact he just pulled free of my lips and watched me cry and squirm against his hand. He smiled and went faster.“Do you want to cum for me, Flower?” he growled as he watched me trying to regain control of myself and my body, but failing miserably. My chin quivered and I nodded. He had me just on the cusp of an orgasm and he quickly pulled his fingers from me and rubbed the moisture from them across my lips as he shoved me down to the ground, “Can I fuck your pretty little wet cunt?” he asked as he hiked up my skirt and pulled me over to him, kneeling on the ground in front of him. I shook my head and scrambled away from him, back up to my feet, and turned my back against the door, “No, I can’t…you can’t,” I said in the most unconvincing way I could possibly manage. I fumbled for the door handle and twisted the knob. He leaned against the door, preventing me from opening it. He looked me up and down but made no move to put his hands on me again, “I’m staying here for one more day. I rented a house just across the street from yours after that. I’ll be there for two weeks. The door won’t be locked.” He put his hands under my skirt again and slid my panties down my legs and to the floor as he moved into a kneeling position in front of me. He glanced up, “Step out.” I did as I was told, stepping carefully out of the thin white thong I’d been wearing. He held them in his hand as he pulled my skirt back down over my hips. He rubbed my butt through my skirt and grinned at me, “You do realize most of the guys that work here talk about bending you over your desk when you and Matt aren’t here, right? Little do they know that’s one of your fantasies. Maybe if you come over I’ll invite them, too. Have you tied to the bed with a pretty mask on so they don’t recognize you. Make them pay me to be allowed to use your holes.” He kissed me again and pulled me closer to him and away from the door. The door opened behind me and he shove me out of his room, to the floor of the hallway, “The next time I see you, you’d better be on your fucking knees, crawling over to beg me to let you suck my cock.”He shut the door and chained it from the inside. I was hurt, scared, and more turned on than I’d been since I cut off contact with him. Fuck. I got up off the floor and walked back to my desk without any panties on. The rest of the night went by without a hitch. Though every time Warren squeezed past me behind the desk I had to fight the urge to stick my ass out just a little. I held out for two days after he left my place of work. I’d gotten home from work and took a shower, went up to my room to change and saw him standing in a window upstairs, scanning my house, I guess trying to figure out how similar the layouts were between my house and the one he rented. It was the same. There were three styles of houses on this street, repeated over and over. His eyes settled on me in my bedroom window, hair wet and wrapped in a towel. He smirked at me and I was incredibly tempted to drop my towel, but I just bit my lip, twirled my hair around my finger then turned and went back to finding clothes. I settled on a navy blue open front cardigan cream colored d****d neck sleeveless top and a mustard yellow mid-thigh button-up skirt. I sat at my vanity and carefully did my makeup, a deep brown smokey eye, dark winged liner and a deep red lip. I put some creams and products in my hair and dried it, creating a thick waterfall of red curls over my shoulders and down my back. I normally straightened it and tied it up. A pair of navy heels and a very special necklace and bracelet set I’d been given long ago, a thick silver band snapped firmly closed on each wrist, and around the widest point of my neck, a clasp on the back locked in place at the front with a tiny, but heavy for its size, heart-shaped padlock. I wore a red silk bra and hip hugger-style panty. All were things he’d sent me as gifts that I begged him not to sendI walked across the street and rang the bell. He didn’t answer, so I rang it again then tried the door. He hadn’t been lying, he left it unlocked. I walked inside cautiously, “Wes?” I said. Looking around, it was dark in the living room, a light cascaded down the stairs, but even it was dim. I headed up the stairs, calling out again, “Wes? Are you up here?”“I am,” he called out to me. “Are you ready?” I followed his voice to the bedroom down the hall, the room that was also my bedroom in my own home. Opening the door, I saw the light dancing on glitter s**ttered along the floor. My eye was drawn upwards, to him sitting on the edge of the bed. He was completely naked and not hiding anything as I stood there looking at him. “Are you ready, Flower?” he asked again. “Ready for what?” I asked. “To make up for the lack of respect you showed me the past few days,” he said. “What do I have to do?”“Just kneel down and crawl over to me, no questions, no complaints, no hesitation.”I knelt down on the ground and proceeded into the room. The glittering I’d noticed on the floor wasn’t glitter. I’d taken a few steps into the room and felt the sharp edges of glass cutting into my palms and knees. I looked up to him and he just sighed and looked away. I had hesitated.I took a deep breath in and slowly crawled across the broken glass. Tiny cuts opened along my skin as I moved. I cringed and winced, but didn’t complain and didn’t ask questions. I had hesitated though. My hands and knees trembled as I stopped at his feet illegal bahis siteleri and looked up to him. “You hesitated,” he said as he looked down at my hands. I nodded, “I thought it was a chunky glitter, it startled me.” A light coating of blood covered my palms and knees, bits of glittering glass mixed in to the blood and stuck to my skin. He started picking the pieces of glass from my skin and I yelped at a few of the larger pieces, but didn’t complain. When he was done he pulled me back up to my feet and looked me over, “You changed your mind?” he asked me. “I feel more like I didn’t have a choice,” I retorted. He smiled at me, “So leave. I won’t stop you.”I shook my head, “I don’t want to leave. You just being here…it’s not fair. I cut contact for a reason. It’s not fair to show up and force your way into my life again. I was doing good without you.” He wiped the blood from my hands with a damp cloth. He kept his eyes on the wounds as he spoke to me, “Were you? Your reaction the other day tells me you’ve been largely ignored and unfulfilled. Did you turn back to watching porn to pass the urges? Constantly fantasizing about the people you interact with on a day to day basis? Having to fight the urge to walk alone at night on the bad side of town?” I blushed and looked away from him, “I wasn’t acting on any of it. Thoughts aren’t actions.” He lifted his face to me and smiled, “On the bed so I can get the glass and blood off of your knees.” I started to climb awkwardly, but my hands hurt to put pressure down. He picked me up at the waist and put me on the bed. Kneeling in front of me, he started the process over, pulling the larger pieces of broken glass that stuck in my skin as I crawled to him. I winced a few times but mostly just sat there watching him. He cleaned the blood from my knees when he was done and looked up to me. “Do you remember the word we’d agreed on before you vanished?” he asked. I nodded, “Vermilion.” “Good,” he climbed up on the bed next to me, stroking my cheek and pushing my hair back behind my ear, “You know you deserve to be hurt for disappearing like that, right?” he asked. I nodded, but my lip trembled in fear. My husband had tried a few times to be the sadist to meet my needs, and there was trust there, but no fear. I knew without a doubt he’d never ever do anything to hurt me. With Wes…I wasn’t so sure. I trusted him. I trusted that if I said the word everything would end and he would do whatever I needed to be okay. But what he was capable of before I said the word…I just wasn’t sure. He climbed up on the bed behind me and pulled my cardigan from my shoulders. I held my breath, uncertain of what to expect. He gathered my hair in his hand and pushed it aside, his lips grazed my neck, just above my necklace and beneath my ear. He tugged my hair and forced my head to tilt away from him. I hadn’t even noticed his hands under my top, my head was focused on how he sent shivers down my spine every time his lips pressed to my skin. He leaned over me, kissing me deeply on the lips as I felt the sharp sting of a knife blade across my stomach. I clenched my fists and rode through the pain of it. It wasn’t a shallow cut. I could feel the blood soaking into my shirt and down to my skirt. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me further back onto the bed. I struggled a little, more at being startled by the sudden move than anything else. He climbed around in front of me and straddled my upper thighs, pushing me back onto the pillows behind me. I was breathing heavily and he put the knife at the shoulder of my top. I grabbed his wrist and he twisted free and got my hands in one of his, pinning them to the headboard as he quickly sliced the shoulders of my top. My chest was rising and falling, a panicked, quickened breath as he slid the back of the knife across the tops of my breasts. He slid the knife beneath the fabric at the front of my bra, and lifted it gently, just to pull the fabric from my skin, but his knife was very sharp and the pressure made a slow but easy slice through the thin fabric. With my breasts free he seemed to get more excited. He pulled the bracelets from my wrists and was going to remove the thick metal collar from my neck, but didn’t.He sliced the buttons from my skirt and slid his knife along my thighs before going under the fabric of my panties, his knife pressed lightly to my lower stomach. I held my breath and clenched my fists, preparing for him to cut me again. Instead, he dropped the knife on my stomach and released my wrists so he could rip my panties at the hips and uncover me. I was pretty much naked on the bed with him perched on top of me, the only clothing that still covered me was my top gathered around my waist, covering the slice he’d made across my stomach. It looked like a red and cream tie-dye now. He looked me in the eye, “He’s going to know, you know? I’m going to leave scars on you even if he doesn’t see them while they heal.” I nodded, tears dripped from the outer corner of my eyes every now and then, but I wasn’t making any noises related to them, “I know. I know. Just…just…” I couldn’t really finish my thought. He looked like he was having doubts about what he wanted to do with me, about following through on the things we’d talked about. “Make it worth it,” I said in mostly a whisper. He picked the knife back up and cut my top the rest of the way. He tore it into long strips, turning me over onto my stomach, pinning my arms behind my back as he wrapped them in the silk strips, binding them firmly behind me. He turned me back onto my back, and I lay awkwardly on my arms, my chest pushed out a bit as I was forced into a slightly arched position. He looped one of the lace pieces through my collar and used it to pull me up to him. His lips were tender and delicate against mine. Then he cupped his hand under my jaw and pulled me until he was sitting back on the edge of the bed and I was kneeling over him awkwardly without my hands to balance me. The knife lay beside us on the bed. He gathered my hair up into his hand and pried my jaw open as he pushed my mouth down on his cock. I gagged and coughed and he moaned as I did. He used my mouth for a few seconds at a time, then gave me a second to catch my breath and say the word if I wanted to before pulling my lips back over his thick, hard cock. With his dick coated in my saliva and me relishing it when he shoved himself deep enough to gag me, he stopped without cumming. He just used my mouth to get himself harder and well lubricated. He grabbed the silk leash he’d created from my shirt and pulled me until I had my cunt directly over his hips. The muscles in my thighs tensed as I tried to stay lifted off of him. I shuddered as his fingers slide over my pussy. He found my pussy thickly coated in a somewhat milky fluid that stretched away from my cunt as he pulled his hand away. He smiled as he lined his cock up with my hole and pulled me down roughly onto him. I winced and cried out, staying still. He smacked my ass/hip and watched me begin to lift myself up and down on his cock, my hands unavailable to help me balance on him. He rubbed my clit for a few seconds then smacked it. I whimpered and squealed, sometimes tensing my pussy around his cock, which made him moan and lose interest in hurting me. He moved his hands up to my hips and squeezed them, rubbing and guiding me to tilt my hips upward slightly as I came down against him. My tits bounced in rhythm with his cock hitting deep inside of me. He pushed me off of him before he came and I have to admit that I felt a little disappointed, but it was quickly alleviated when he pushed my head down into the pillows and I felt his cock push back into my pussy as he knelt behind me. He was anything but gentle. He pounded me hard and pushed my head deeper into the pillows on the bed. I kicked my feet and cried out. It hurt. It definitely hurt as the head of his cock hit something painful deep within me. I was finding it hard to breathe when he grabbed my bound arms and pulled me up enough to get a fistful of my hair. It must’ve been a sight as he knelt behind me, my arms bound to one another behind my back, his cock pushing in and out of me as he arched my back by forcefully pulling my hair to fuck me harder. He didn’t cum, but I did. Losing control of how he used me sent me quickly into an orgasm. He groaned as my pussy walls clenched and tightened around his cock, the same vaginal fluids that coated his cock thickly were running down my thighs and dripping onto the bed beneath me. I was whimpering and moaning as his cock pounded me, he pulled my hair harder and lifted his hips on the forward thrust, curving his cock to hit my g-spot throughout the orgasm. It just didn’t stop. I felt the build up, I felt the crest, but it was wavering between build up and crest repeatedly as he pushed into me. He growled as he pulled me up more, my back against his chest as he wrapped his arm around my throat and held me against him. I was crying and moaning and writhing in his grip. His voice echoed in my ear, “You are such a needy cunt, Flower. Your pussy has just been neglected hasn’t it. Feels like it’s never been well fucked. It’s okay. I’m here now. I’m here and I won’t be letting you disappear like that again.” He ran his hands over my body, kneading and groping my breasts, pinching and twisting my nipples clawing at the cut across my stomach as his hands drifted lower. He started rubbing the swollen bit of sensitive flesh with one hand, the other made its way back up me until he had it curved over my shoulder with a handful of my hair gripped tightly in it. My body reacted in a way I wasn’t used to. My legs trembled, my arms trembled and if not for his hands on my clit and pulling my hair, I would have collapsed onto the bed. My toes curled and I moaned loudly as my body convulsed in pleasure, fluid spraying from me and onto the bed below. I felt his grip on me tighten and his fingers on my clit slowed to gentle strokes as he grunted, pushed hard against me and released himself into my cunt. I was writhing on his dick, lifting and pushing my hips back against him as he fell forward with me under him. Only problem was, I wasn’t done. He just ignited the ache I’d been repressing. I looked back to him, still moving and writhing beneath him. My makeup smeared and streaked from crying. “Untie me, untie me please? Please? I need you to untie me, now.” I ached. I ached so fucking bad. He unbound my wrists and I pushed him down to the bed and mounted him. His still partially hard cock was easy enough to get going again with a quick just a few kisses and mild grinding against him. Once he was ready I slid him into me, my hands on his shoulders as I sat up and leaned back a bit. I was smiling and clearly enjoying myself as I leaned back further, putting my hands behind me and arching my back as I moved my hips against him. Every time I stretched the cut on my stomach split back open, causing a new trickle of blood to cascade over my lower stomach.He allowed me the time to fuck him slowly, to enjoy myself, to ease that ache that grew every time his hands or lips made contact with my body. At the moment, his lips were on my right breast, sucking biting at the nipple. My hands were on his thighs, my back arched as my hips moved up and down his shaft. His hands were on my lower back, curving around to the backside of my hips, helping me guide my cunt down on his cock the way he wanted me to. It was a fucking dream. I leaned my head back and moaned as his lips moved over to my left breast, biting the softly curved flesh beneath my nipple before moving his lips up. He held me up as he shifted and got onto his knees, I leaned back onto the bed again, keeping my back arched as he began to meet my gentle rocking with quick hard thrusts into me. I felt the hilt of the knife beside my fingertips and moved my hand over to pick it up. I pulled myself back up and he saw it glint in my hand. He looked almost scared at first, I ran the back of the blade down his cheek and tilted my head as he tangled his hands into my hair and tugged, “What are you doing with that, Flower?” he asked. I moaned as he tugged my hair tighter, his hands occupied with holding me up on his lap as canlı bahis siteleri he continued to fuck me. I made a small cut on the side of my neck he was forcing to be exposed as he pulled my hair. He groaned and eased up on pulling my hair, a tiny trickle of blood slid down my skin and began to pool in the hollow of my collarbone. He pulled me closer to him and drew his tongue up my neck, closing his lips on the wound I’d made and sucked on it gently. I whimpered and he picked me up and lay me on the bed, biting and sucking my neck as he began to fuck me again. I moaned and giggled. I felt his hand closing over mine, pulling the knife from my grip. He sat up and looked down at me, he seemed as hungry for sex and affection as I was. With the knife in his hand and my blood on his lips he seemed much more menacing than he had at the start of this. But, he surprised me and cut into his wrist, just at the base of his palm. He dropped the knife back to the bed and let a few drips of his blood fall along my lips, cheek and chin. Then he grabbed my hips and went back to fucking me, his blood smeared on my hip and outer thigh as he gripped me and pulled me to him. His other hand moved down to my clit, rubbing and stroking me, urging me to cum for him again.And I did, gripping the blanket under me as I arched my back and felt the familiar contractions through my lower stomach and thighs. He didn’t cum. Instead he pulled out of me and promptly turned me onto my stomach, facing away from the headboard. A mirror on a dresser sat across the room and I watched him kneel behind me, the knife in his hand again as he pushed the well-fucked head of his slippery cock against my ass. It didn’t really work as easily as he thought it would. I’d never had anal sex before. I was prepared for it, I knew it was something he wanted so I did prepare for it when I knew this was going to happen, but I had still never done that so I tensed up, expecting it to hurt. He used his fingers to spread my juices and his remaining cum back to my ass. He could have gotten lube. I had no doubt he would have brought some with him. But, he didn’t. He put my hands on the foot-board, “Tighten your grip, don’t scream. You can cry, but don’t scream.” He tried again and I leaned forward, trying to relax myself as he pushed against me. He used his own spit and my fluids to lubricate me, but it was still difficult. I cringed and cried out when his head pushed its way into me. It hurt. More than I thought it would. He groaned, “Fuck, relax, Flower, fuck,” as he started moving very slowly. One hand rested on my hip, guiding me and holding me still so he could push his way a little deeper into me. The other slid up my back and grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked it hard. It took me by surprise and I relaxed just enough for him to get a couple of inches of himself forced into my ass. He looked up, into the mirror to see me watching him, tears streaming down my cheeks, my mouth contorted in pain as he made small thrusts in and out, trying his best to make me take his dick. He smiled at me and pushed a little harder. I was panting, short shallow breaths as I tried to work through the pain of it. He stopped being gentle when he was about halfway in. He pulled my hair harder and clamped his hand over my mouth, making a hard painful thrust into me as I screamed beneath his palm. It was muffled and he just kept going. After a few deep thrusts he got himself all the way in my ass. I sobbed, muffled behind his hand. My hands trembled and they were stark white from gripping the foot-board so tightly. He took a few strokes and let go of my hair, “Good girl, good girl,” he repeated as he stroked my back with that hand. The other continued to muffle my cries of pain as he started moving a little faster in and out of me. He pulled me up and my hands only reluctantly released the foot-board. “Rub your clit and tits for me, Flower, give me a good show and I’ll only give you ten licks for the hesitation earlier.”My hands trembled, his chest was sweaty against my back and his grip on my mouth tightened as he started to fuck my ass. His other hand curved around my hip, holding me still as his thrusts made me cry out each time. My right hand slid down between my legs, lazily rubbing my clit as my left hand cupped and squeezed my right breast. He sighed, a deep annoyance evident, “You still like being hurt, right?” I nodded, about all I could do. Pushing into me again he felt me clench up and stopped. He moved his hand off of my hip and gathered my hair, pushing it over my shoulder so he could get his lips close to my ear, “I want to feel your little pussy, I bet its just dripping. Promise you won’t scream and I’ll uncover your mouth and help you get off. Just bite your lip if you think you might scream.” I nodded, giving him my assurance I would try my best. He removed his hand from my mouth and lowered it down between my thighs. He wasn’t wrong, I definitely enjoyed pain, this was just a kind of pain I wasn’t used to, it was new and it was going to take some time to fully appreciate. I bit my lip as soon as soon as he put his hand over mine, guiding my fingers over my clit. His other hand went back to grasping my hip he pushed himself fully into me and I bit down hard, the faintest taste of blood, but I wasn’t sure if it was mine or his blood that he’d dripped on my lip earlier. I do know his blood was smeared on my body, mostly on the hip that his cut hand grasped. There were still tears trailing down my cheeks, but the pain had started subsiding, replaced with a feeling of uncomfortable pressure. I had stopped clenching, his thumb replaced my fingers, rubbing my clit in an effort to get me to relax and ease the fear I had. His index and middle finger curved into my cunt for a quick fingering before going back to just rubbing my inner labia. He was thrusting gently into me. I brought my arm back behind his head and pulled him closer to me. He kissed my cheek, my jaw, my neck. His hand on my hip began to move up my body, cupping my breasts and kneading them in his palm. I started holding myself still as he pushed into me. I began to accept it.I turned my head towards him, releasing my lip from my clenched teeth. I pouted and moaned. He pressed his lips to mine and resumed the powerful deep thrusts he’d started with as he and I both rubbed my clit. His hand went up to my throat and he grasped me, holding me tightly against his chest as his dick thrust hard and deep into my ass. He wasn’t choking me, he wasn’t squeezing my throat really, just a firm grasp holding me against him. I squirmed, my fingers teasing my clit quickly as the ripples of tightness in my lower stomach began. He grunted and groaned in my ear, “Fuck me back, Flower. Push that pretty round ass of yours back against my dick.” I did as I was told. The tears were drying on my cheeks and I was biting my lip again, not because it hurt, but because I was trying to focus on what my body was doing and how it was feeling. He felt my body trembling beneath his fingertips and he laughed slightly, “You really meant it when you said you were insatiable, didn’t you?” I whined and rode out my orgasm with him nearly lifting me off the bed with his last few thrusts until he came. We collapsed onto the bed together, he stroked my hair and wrapped his arm around me and I had my ear to his chest listening as his strong, fast heartbeat gradually began to slow. “We decided ten licks for hesitating. I think two per day you denied me would suffice. Has your husband touched you since I’ve been here?” he asked me. I nodded, “I kissed him. We showered together yesterday.” “Two licks for kissing him. What did he do while you were in the shower?”I blushed, and he wagged his finger at me, “Did he fuck my toy without permission?” I nodded. He grasped my jaw and lifted my face to his, “He doesn’t ever get to touch you without my permission again, understand?” I nodded and he kissed me. “I think another ten licks for that is warranted. What does that bring us to? Twenty-eight?” he asked as he looked at me. I shook my head, “Thirty.” He smirked, “Twenty-five for being honest.”He sat up and looked me over, “On your stomach, ass up. If you pull away I start over. Count them out for me, if you miscount, we start over from 1, understand?” I nodded and turned over onto my hands and knees. I cringed as his hand connected with my butt cheek, he did not take it easy on me. My voice cracked a little, “O-o-one…” I didn’t miscount, and I didn’t pull away for any of them, but by the end I was crying again. He left a dark purple bruise on my right butt cheek and a much lighter greenish-blue colored one on my left. I sobbed on the bed as he got up and got partially dressed. He left the room and came back after a few minutes with an ice pack, which he put on the dark purple bruise.He looked at the cum dried between my legs and the blood smeared over my body, “Did it scratch that itch for you, Kaylen?” he asked as he knelt down beside me. I nodded and looked at him, wiping the tears from my eyes, “You could have done more, you know?” He smirked, “No, I couldn’t have. I know you want to enjoy pain, but there’s a line between breaking you in, and just breaking you. I hit your upper limits as it is.” He switched the ice pack over to the smaller bruise for a few minutes, “I lied to you, by the way.” I turned my head to look at him, “About what?” “I’m not renting this house, I bought it. Next time you come over, I’ll have clothes for you to wear here, and makeup and anything else you need to feel better about being around me. We’re going to see how many orgasms your body can endure.” He stroked his thumb across my lip and lifted my chin to him as he leaned down to me. He held his lips barely away from mine as he spoke, “Would you like that, Flower?” he asked in a slightly mocking tone. I nodded, “Yes, sir,” was the response he’d been waiting for. The signal that I was willing to obey and hurt for his pleasure as much as for mine. He smiled and kissed me, stroking my cheek. He pulled away with a deep sigh, “Such a shame you won’t walk away from him. You know he can’t fulfill you, so why stay?” “Because as much as I enjoy this…I know it’s not good for me. It’s too easy for me to fall down the rabbit hole of believing that my only worth in the world is to be a warm hole to fuck. Maybe to some people that is my only worth. To him it’s not,” I said. “But fucking around on him is okay?” he asked. “No, it’s not. I feel like absolute shit about myself right now. I had never even considered cheating on him until you came along. Then you showed up here…” I sighed. I looked him in the eye as I continued, “Maybe this is where it ends and this was all a mistake that I regret and I end up begging for his forgiveness. Or, maybe I went through with this because I felt like I’ve been living a lie for so long that I needed a reminder of who I really am and how I actually deserve to be treated. Maybe you’re just a means to an end for me. Maybe this betrayal and hurt is my way to get him to leave me.” I took his shirt from on top of a dresser nearby and put it on. My clothes were destroyed and I needed something to wear back home. As I was buttoning up his shirt I looked down at the floor, “Or maybe I was just hoping you would kill me when you were done with me so I wouldn’t have to face hurting him.”“But, most likely, I’m just afraid of being hurt, so I hurt the people who care for me first, it’s easier to detach from people who think you’re shit for betraying them. If this carries on long enough, eventually you’ll feel something more than lust for me, and I’ll get scared and fuck someone else in order to hurt you so you’ll leave and I’ll continue the cycle forever because I’m afraid of having my heart broken again. It fucking hurts to have your heart broken and I don’t think I’d survive it a second time,” I half-smiled, awkwardly fighting back tears.I put my heels back on, they’d fallen off at some point during our escapade, and tied a few strips of the silk fabric from my shirt together, creating a belt to cinch his shirt against my waist. I walked towards the door but stopped to turn back to him, “I don’t really know what it means to love someone. I just know that pain is a tangible thing that can be measured, evidence of it can be seen. I can embrace that and understand it. Love is just a construct of wishful thinking and hopeless romantics.” I walked away, but I knew I’d be back at his door tomorrow and I knew he’d let me back in.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *