The Exhibitionist
Page 6

With that thought consuming my mind, I thrust into her completely. Fuck. So good competed with Mine, only and forever mine.
“Oh, my God. Yes,” she said, bucking upward to draw me deeper.
I held tightly to her waist and pulled out so only the tip of me was left inside. Because I still felt a little evil, I made shallow thrusts, bouncing the tip in and out of her.
She whined.
“Who decides how much cock you get?”
“You do, Master.”
“That’s right.” I pulled out completely and watched her struggle not to beg. To be even more mean, I took my cock in one hand and slapped it a few times against her clit. “Maybe I think that’s all the cock you’ll get. What about that?”
She gyrated against the bed. “Please.”
“Please more?” I rubbed my length along her slit and across the sensitive bundle of nerves there. Then I ended it with another handful of slaps. “How long do you think I can torment your little clit until you come?”
“Not long, Master.” Her eyes captured mine and I saw how hard she was working to hold back her climax.
“I think you’ve been a very good girl today. So I’m going to give you all of my cock.” I put the head right at her entrance again. “All at once,” I said, driving into her fully.
“Damn.” Her eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck. Me.”
“Come when you want.”
I pulled out and thrust over and over, going deeper inside with each forward motion into her body. She arched her back and pushed her hips toward mine, in time with me, drawing me even farther inside.
“I never want to stop being inside you.” I thrust again. “There’s nowhere else my dick would rather be.”
Her climax shook her body on my next push into her.
“Such a good girl. Coming all over my dick.” I took some lube I had put on the bed earlier and squeezed it over a finger. “I want you to come again.”
“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God,” she chanted as I pushed a finger into her ass.
“It’s only a finger,” I said. “Not nearly as big as a cock. Of course, when I do this …” I hooked my finger a bit so it stroked me as I moved within her. The feel of her inner walls separating my cock and finger was amazing. I could only imagine how it felt for her. “I feel my cock fucking your pussy.”
She was lost in sensation and bliss. Pleasure filled her eyes. I added a second finger.
“Maybe I’ll fuck your ass and finger my cock through your pussy.”
At my words, she gave a lazy nod. I thrust deeper inside.
“I’m going to come,” she whispered.
“Yes, you are.”
Her second climax was just as intense as her first. As her inner muscles squeezed me, I knew I couldn’t hold back any longer. I gasped as I released inside her. Fuck. It’d been a long time since I came so hard. We were both still and breathing hard for a long time.
Finally, I drew her close and kissed her. “You made me so proud tonight.” She sighed and burrowed into my arms, mumbling something under her breath I couldn’t make out.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Love you.”
I smiled. “Love you, too.”
Chapter Three
ABBY
The following weekend, I made my way to our bedroom, running the obstacle course comprising moving boxes, bubble wrap, and tape. The packers we’d hired had been busy all day getting together the items we planned to take to Delaware. Most of the boxes were half-filled, though a few had already been taped up. Several empty ones lined the hallway. But no matter how much they held, they all had one thing in common—they were brown.
“I’ve decided brown is my least favorite color,” I announced to Nathaniel as I finally made it into our room.
“The most boring of all colors,” he agreed. He stood beside the bed, going through an open box. “Did Elizabeth settle down?”
“Yes, she wants to know when Jeff and Dena’s baby will be able to play and she didn’t quite grasp there were still seven months until he or she is born. And then she wanted to know how the baby got into Dena’s belly in the first place.”
Nathaniel laughed. “I wasn’t expecting that conversation just yet. I thought we had a few more years.”
I rummaged through my drawer, looking for pajamas. “You’ve got ten hours. I told her to ask you in the morning.” He stopped laughing and I giggled at his expression. “I’m kidding. I told her we’d talk about it later, that it was too late tonight. Have you seen my blue-striped pajamas?”
He nodded. “I put them in with the winter clothes yesterday. They’re in a box somewhere.”
I shut the drawer closed with more force than was necessary. “Everything’s in disarray. Nothing’s where I can find it.”
It was a slight exaggeration. We weren’t packing everything. And we technically weren’t packing anything. We’d hired a company to do that for us. But it still didn’t take away from the fact that I couldn’t put my hands on my favorite set of pajamas when I wanted them.
“In about another hour you won’t need pajamas anyway,” he said, taking the box off the bed.
He was right, of course. It was a Friday night and he’d collared me a few hours ago. We were experimenting with lower protocol outside the playroom. A useful thing, since thus far our scheduled collar time had consisted of boxes, trying to get the kids to sleep, boxes, taking Apollo outside, and boxes.
“But I’d like to wear something comfortable until then,” I said, and then quickly added, “Sir.”
I needed a few hours in the playroom. Needed to let him take over and make all the decisions. I felt stressed and frazzled. When I got that way, there was one thing guaranteed to make it all better: kneeling at Nathaniel’s feet.
My phone buzzed with an incoming e-mail. I pulled my cell out of my pocket and sighed when I saw it was from Meagan, my boss. A few months ago, the blog I wrote detailing my submissive journey came to the attention of a large media network. They offered me a job writing content for the women’s sexuality section of their Web site, as well as posts about BDSM for their late-night talk show on women’s health. Occasionally, I’d also appear on the show to answer questions.
I scanned Meagan’s e-mail. The topic for Monday night’s live episode had been changed, thanks to a particularly virulent case of the flu hitting several of the guests scheduled to talk. That meant the blog post I’d prepared wouldn’t work.