Intimate (4 page)

For an instant Emily froze, like a shocked deer in the middle of a road, suddenly caught in the glare of headlights. There was a light on in a window of the facing house.

Emily made to flee from the chair but I snapped at her. I told her I wanted to watch her orgasm. The sooner she got herself off, the sooner the blinds would be closed.

She flashed me a venomous glare and then screwed her eyes tightly shut. Her face looked as though she were in some deep trance of concentration. Her nipples came taut and then her abdomen began to undulate as her tummy concaved with each deeply drawn breath.

Okay… I just need to stop here for a moment because I’m wondering if you notice a trend yet?

I’ll come back to my story about Emily very soon, but this is important – important enough to share a secret with you.

I’ve always made it a rule in my BDSM experiences to insist my submissive pleasure herself before I ever attempt to bring her to orgasm.

Why?

Well how else will I know how to pleasure her – how best to touch her to bring her to release?

A woman’s orgasm is hidden behind a million combination tumblers; what works for one woman
never, ever
works in exactly the same way for the next. Most guys might think they know how to pleasure a woman. And maybe they do.

A woman.
A single woman.

But any guy who uses exactly the same techniques on every woman he ever tumbles into bed with is going to disappoint the majority of them.

I’m not smart. I’m just smart enough to know I need each lady’s combination. It’s the only way the sex can be mutually satisfying, after all.

Okay. Okay. I know – there’s nothing worse than breaking off a good story just when it’s about to get interesting. I’ll come back to Emily and what happened during our first night together…

While Emily slowly rose towards the thrill of her release I studied her closely; the way she moved, and the little touches that seemed to turn her breath into soft gasps. She reached the brink at last and teetered there for over a minute. In that time she never breathed – the air became jammed in her throat so that when she went crashing through the thrash of her orgasm, she was panting and starved for air as if she had run to the end of a marathon finishing line.

She was like a limp rag doll in the chair, her arm dangling between her spread legs and one of her legs tapping a trembling beat against the floor. Her head lolled to the side, her eyes bleary as though she had just awaken. I drew the vertical drapes closed and took her languid hand.

Quietly, I led her up the stairs.

One bedroom was filled with cardboard boxes and in the other room was an unmade king-size bed. Emily moved like a sleepwalker. I positioned her at the foot of the bed and gently put pressure on her shoulders. She understood instinctively and sank to her knees before me.

I unzipped my jeans and stood perfectly still. Emily took me tentatively in her mouth and my hands went to the back of her head, guiding and instructing her with the pressure of my touch.

She was willing but lacked skill, and it took more patience than I had in order to finally control her throat gagging lunges into a more sedate, controlled rhythm. After a couple of minutes, I was still hard but no more aroused. I drew myself back from between her lips, wet and glistening and Emily sat back on her haunches, pouting her lips like a petulant child.

I ordered her to start again. Emily sulked for a moment longer and then she opened her mouth wide. Firmly, I cupped her face in my hands and then slowly pushed my hips forward until the hard swollen tip of my cock was resting on her tongue. Emily’s eyes were enormous, fixed upon my face and her mouth filled with saliva. I held myself between her lips for a long moment and then inched myself deeper into her mouth.

Instinctively Emily’s mouth clamped tight around the heat of my shaft. I gave her a sharp warning look, and her expression altered. She let out a long breath through her nose and the tension in her melted a little. I thrust slowly forward until I felt the tip of my cock brush against the back of her throat, and then withdrew myself quickly, before she gagged.

“Again.” I said.

We repeated the process for several minutes until Emily understood that her mouth was being used for my pleasure. She became completely passive, and when her eyes at last closed and the final shreds of her resistance drained away, I began to rock my hips, at last able to enjoy the sensations as her tongue fluttered along my shaft and my cock became coated with the moist wetness of her desire to please.

In the back of her throat Emily was making little grunting noise of contentment – maybe satisfaction. Having surrendered entirely, she was suddenly perfectly pliant. I used her hungry mouth until I felt the first tingling thrill of my own desire begin to peak, and then drew back from her lips and stared, smiling, down into her eyes.

We drifted towards the bed and Emily stretched out on her back, looking to me for guidance and direction. I spread her legs with my hands and knelt before her. Her pussy was glistening with her own arousal, like dewdrops on a rose at dawn. I drew my tongue slowly along the soft smooth folds of her sex, and she went rigid in the grips of sudden sensitive desire.

I told Emily she could not come – and then I tortured her.

Her performance in front of the glass kitchen doors had taught me a great deal about how Emily brought herself to orgasm. With my tongue and the tips of my fingers I set about replicating her movements, alternating light and firm pressure, licking at the warm rush of her juices and drinking in the taste of her. She began to thrash upon the bed, starting with a gentle rock and rise of her pelvis as the need for her to come took hold. The rhythmic movements of her body became quickly more urgent. Quivering tension reached her legs and she became restless on the bed. Her head swished from side to side on the big pillows and then I felt her hands, hooked into claws, scratching at my shoulders. Her nails were like talons. They hooked into my flesh and then she threw back her head, her jaw locked tight and her eyes squeezed closed.

I stopped.

For an instant Emily laid frozen in that arched, strained pose – and then her eyes fluttered open and the breath she had been holding escaped in a long quivering gasp. She looked down between her open wide knees to where I was crouched, trembling, her expression bewildered and crestfallen.

I started again, drawing the button of her clit gently between my lips and at the same time slowly sliding one of my fingers inside her. Emily groaned. She was already close to the brink. Now she began to push her pussy against my mouth, slowly grinding and gyrating her hips to keep contact as my lips drew back, and I flickered my tongue gently across her. My touch was teasing, tantalizing – deliberately never applying enough pressure for long enough to trigger her orgasm. Emily started to sob with bitter frustration. It reached the point where I was literally forcing her to be aroused, despite her resistance. She was helpless… and I was merciless.

When I finally covered her with my body and the length of my cock slid deep between the aching wet folds of her pussy, Emily’s body turned limp in my arms.

She asked me if she could come. I told her no.

“Not until I’m finished with you.”

I took my time, savoring the feel of her firm resilient flesh beneath me, attuned to every single movement she made as I drove myself deep inside her. Her legs entwined around my ankles and one of her hands slipped down between our bodies, her fingers rubbing at her clit.

She lifted herself off the bed, driving upwards with her hips to meet each new thrust, encouraging me deeper. Her pussy clenched tight.

I buried my face in her neck and kissed her throat. Her hair was damp with her perspiration. I pressed my lips to her ear, so she could hear the rising tempo and urgency in my breathing. My senses became overwhelmed with the scent of her perfume and the aroma of sex that hung like a veil in the air. I immersed myself in it and then bit her shoulder, hard enough that she made a sound like a squeal that blended into a deep throaty moan.

I reached the verge of my own orgasm. My breath sounded hoarse in my own ears. My eyes were screwed shut. I hunted for Emily’s mouth and when I felt the softness of her lips, I kissed her with a fierce blend of desire and passion.

When I came, Emily rode the waves with me, melting her body against mine, pressing forward where I pulled away and softening herself against the pressure of my chest so that we were completely connected, skin-on-skin from our feet to our lips.

It took a long time for me to return from the far distant place of release and profound emptiness. Emily was lying pliant and waiting beneath me. Her eyes were huge, her expression significant. I kissed her more tenderly and then lay beside her on the bed, still breathing hard. I gave her permission to come.

Emily’s fingers flew gratefully between her spread legs. She was slick with the nectar of her own long-held arousal and the warm rush of my release. She closed her eyes. I propped myself up onto one elbow and casually drew one of her nipples into my mouth.

Emily touched herself tentatively for a few moments until her fingers were glistening with her moistness. She let out a long breath that became a gasp, and then her fingers turned into a blur – as though the moment could not be withheld for an instant longer.

Her orgasm left her broken – shattered into separate loose pieces.

It was a compelling, intimate moment to watch, as though I were stealing a look at a private piece of her very soul.

We spent the rest of the night together and in the morning I followed her into work. The day was fraught with significant looks, secret touches and hushed, flirting conversation. I trailed her back to her apartment that evening, and we went driving up into the mountains in my car.

The night was warm and filled with stars. We parked in a clearing just off the road that had a view down across the lights of the city. The only sound was the buzzing of insects. I ordered Emily to get undressed and then she perched herself precariously sideways in her seat and leaned across the center console of the car to take my cock in her mouth.

After the night before, she was timid, and I put the palm of my hand between her shoulder blades to encourage her to take me deep down her throat.

I sat back in the bucket seat, staring at the cabin light. Emily was making pleasant sucking sounds, and I could feel myself become fully hard. I reached around behind Emily and slid my hand between her thighs. Her pussy was already wet – the teasing play throughout the day had lingering side-effects. When the tip of my finger slipped between the folds of her sex, she stopped sucking my cock and laid her cheek on my lap, looking at me.

I began to slowly fuck her with my finger, encouraged by her moans and little gasps of delicious arousal. She began to rock back and forth slowly, her back arched, the long tendrils of her dark hair teasing across my cock like the brush of feathers.

After several minutes the air was rich with the musky scent of her aroma. She wrapped her hand around the base of my cock and began to stroke me slowly. I used the wetness of her pussy to glide my fingers in tight circles over her clit, and she shuffled her thighs as wide apart as she could in the confined space.

“I want to fuck you – over the hood of the car.”

Emily did not flinch. In fact, she nodded her head in willing agreement. We stepped out of the car and the warm air wrapped itself around us like a blanket. Emily’s body was pale in the moonlight, ethereal and slim as a wisp. I bent her over the hood of the car and spread her legs wide. Emily splayed her fingers wide on the paintwork as though to hold herself steady. My cock swiped slowly along the pouting lips of her pussy and then I slid inside her, coming up onto the balls of my feet for balance and leverage.

The grip of her pussy was like sliding inside a silken glove. The tightness of her was accentuated by her wetness. I held myself still, deep within her and Emily gave a little contented gasp of encouragement.

I gave Emily a playful slap on the bottom as I was driving my hips into her. She turned her head and glanced at me over her shoulder. Her mouth was open, her eyes slanted with a look of sloe-eyed sexuality.

It occurred to me then that we were physically perfect for each other. The length of Emily’s legs, the petite shape of her figure was a perfect match – all the parts that mattered fitted together perfectly so that the sex we shared seemed entirely natural and unforced.

A car drove past, the headlights playing through the veil of low shrubs and dappling us with light for a sweeping moment. The car drove on without slowing, the engine changing down through the gears as the vehicle tackled the peak of the mountains. The sound finally faded into the night just as Emily began to moan, telling me she was on the verge of coming. One of her hands snaked down between her spread legs and found the sensitive tip of her clit. I could feel the brush of her other fingers against the end of my shaft. In the wetness of her arousal, our bodies made soft slapping sounds.

I told Emily not to come, and increased the tempo of my thrusts. I could feel the forced restraint of her now, like she was clenching her body, holding herself in check with a desperate will. I dug my hands into her hips and pulled her hard onto my cock so that I was completely inside her. She threw back her head and I snatched at her shoulder then slid my hand around until it was wrapped around her throat. I was grunting, growling – racing quickly to the point of orgasm. Having Emily held, pinned and helpless in my grip was a turn on. She was allowing me to use her – welcoming and encouraging me.