I realised that this prelude had taken nearly 15 minutes, a period in which he had not touched me nor I left my seated position, my knees held tightly together as if to protect my maidenly treasure. I realised, truly the erotic power of the spoken word, the manner in which command and submission could be conveyed and a fiction made real to the two players on a private stage – actors who were also, at the same time, an intimate audience for their feelings and sensations. We had a safe-word in place, Maddie knew what my limitations were, and I trusted Com would not go beyond these, though I had intimated to her that I hoped that our play would on this occasion be rougher than the stylish seductions I had previously experienced in their bed.
Standing in front of me, he commanded that I do to him what I had done to my fictional boyfriend. Gingerly, I put my hand out, momentarily touched the hard bulge in Com’s chinos, and withdrew it with a feint of timidity. ‘You did more than that to him’. My hand reached out, and began to caress his hard cock through the think cloth, tracing its outline from root to tip, feeling the sensuous curve of its shape, the unyielding hardness of the flesh which was to invade my body. Of course, I was growing hotter and wetter ‘down there’ as I played out my fantasy, watching myself submitting and anticipating his next move. ‘Take it out.’ He commanded. Timidly, my two hands undid his thick leather belt, and then unbuttoned the fly of his stone-coloured trousers. He wore no underwear, and his thick cock prang out. Without prompting, my two hands were upon it, gripping tightly and rotating their palms across its surface with an expertise which, perhaps, a less-practised girl might not have possessed. This, though, did nit disrupt the fantasy, as he bade me take his length into my supposedly innocent mouth. I feigned reluctance, and found his strong hands suddenly on my hair and my head forced forward so that his glans pushed irresistibly between my lips. With my tongue pressed beneath it, I began to caress it with the surfaces of my mouth, which elicited a groan of pleasure. I relaxed momentarily, and he took that as a signal to push further into me, his cock passing further along my tongue and palate. I was little more than a blow-job virgin, as I said earlier, and I was shocked at how much I was able to take of his girthy length. As I gagged for the first time, he pushed finally forward and my lips circled the very root of his cock. Breathing very deliberately through my nose I realised that his glans had passed the root of my tongue and was in a position that, should he cum, his essence would literally hit the back of my throat and slide without resistance into my stomach. I wondered if that was his plan for me as he deliberately withdrew and then returned, again and again, in a rhythmic fucking of my mouth. As I felt the bulge and quiver in his glans that surely signalled the torrent of his pent up seed, he withdrew and with a jerking motion contained the urge to shoot his load. What self-control. This was a man who was master of his own body, and who could use that body for the pleasure of the woman in his arms as well as his own. Salivating heavily, and with my eye make-up and hair dishevelled by our recent encounter, I wondered, keenly, what was to come next.
‘You’ve seen me’, he said. ‘I want to see you. Take off your blazer’. I stood up, and removed the heavy black blazer, and folded it carefully, laying it on the chair I had just vacated. ‘Good girl’, he said, and beckoned me back towards him. I stood there, feeling small and powerless, in my crisp white blouse, plaid skirt and modest black shoes, just an arm’s length from his protruding cock, which glistened with my saliva. How I wished that Maddie was filming this, because I so wanted to see what we looked like! I’ve visualised it countless times in my mind – you never forget your first proper role play, believe me. He put his hands first on my shoulders, and I relaxed. His fingertips, though, deftly moved down to the placket of my blouse and with a sudden violence, he ripped the prim garment open, the buttons flying outwards across the room. As I flinched and stepped back, his hands grasped my breasts, squeezing their contours, and his thumbs slipped within the curtilage of my brassiere. Again, with controlled force, he pulled against my natural resistance, and as I leaned backwards the fastening of the bra gave way, exposing my succulent titties to his gaze. I attempted to cover them with feigned maidenly modesty, but it was to no avail. My ruined blouse fell from my shoulders, the bra hung and then dropped from me, and I was rendered topless, my breasts now in his hands as his mouth sought mine with urgent kisses. I feigned reluctance, of course, but could not help shuddering in submissive pleasure as Com’s tongue penetrated my mouth and swirled within that orifice. I responded, and standing there felt him loose one of my breasts in order to get his hand under my skirt and onto the front of my white knickers. By the sound I heard, I knew I was soaking down there, and I came the moment he touched me through the damp cloth. Com’s hand left my pussy and strayed to the back of my plaid skirt. Detaching, rather than undoing, the button at the waistband, he drew down the zip and the last protection afforded to my body dropped to the floor, pooling around my modest heels. He knew exactly what he was doing, of course, and had positioned me perfectly, for as he pushed me backwards the bed received my weight, and as I rose to steady myself his hand was upon and then within the waistband of my knickers, which were torn from my body with a sad tearing. My maidenly treasure – the real subject of the fantasy for both of us – was now exposed to his gaze, glistening with my juices, unencumbered by pubic hair, and gaping slightly open in readiness for the sacrifice of my honour.
Kneeling between my legs, Com buried his face in my soaking gash, his tongue skilfully extracting my clitoris from its protective hood and leaving it perfectly positioned for stimulation during the fucking which was soon to come. I came again on his face, soaking him, and I rather incongruously cried that I would ruin the bed sheet. ‘I’m going to ruin you for your boyfriend’, was all he said in reply, and he positioned his naked purple head at the moist entrance to my womanhood, teasing them further apart with his glans. God, I was hot and ready for this, but we still kept up the fantasy of reluctance. I begged him, please, not to take me, that I was saving my virginity for my wedding night, that he had more from me than my boyfriend had had already. At least, I pleaded, he could wear a condom. I hit the jackpot, of course, and this unleashed Com’s fetish. He gleefully told me that after he had fucked me I would be returning to class full of his seed, possibly full of his baby too, and that I might be a student mother. Leering, he suggested that, with my desire unleashed this modest church-going girl would probably sleep with all the boys in her university hall, become the college slut into whose body the sperm of so many men would flow. This made me even hotter, because I was already fantasising about the college boys I hadn’t yet fucked because of my monogamous relationship, and he felt me cum beneath him. I deliberately clenched my body in order to resist his entry and give him a sense of virginal tightness and was rewarded with a groan of pleasure. His hands pinned my wrists deliciously to the bed, and Com raised his lower body in order to drive his length remorselessly into me. As he gazed upon my face, I placed my upper teeth over my lower lip in a feint of discomfort. Slowly, he eased his hardness into me, so that I felt every ripple and contour of its thickness. As his root finally met my labia majora, he looked me in the eyes and with tenderness murmured ‘You’re a woman now, Michelle’. The irony was, that I had indeed become a woman, had felt through the fantasy a sense of change, an opening in to a new world of sexual liberation and pleasurable promiscuity. He had deflowered my mind and my morals, and it is to my eternal regret that he had not taken my maidenhood earlier that year. This was the best sex I had ever had. Com resumed his attentions to my body, and fucked me first in missionary, before turning me over and taking me doggy style, his hands on my hanging breasts. The pleasure was so great that I was biting the pillow. I rode him cow-girl, and when Com again placed me on my back and raised my stocking-clad ankles on his shoulder to finish me in the babymaker position, he asked me whether I still wanted him not to cum inside my body. You know the answer, of course. My fantasy had passed from reluctance to pure submission, and I asked him to inseminate – to, to actually impregnate – my teenaged body, crying, as I came again and again ‘I want your baby! I want your baby!’ He came so copiously that it pooled on the sheets.
After showering and douching, I went in search of Maddie. She wanted a full description of what her husband had done to me, and was delighted. ‘He’ll keep his mind on the shoot today’, she remarked, and will be more than happy to fuck us both after dinner tonight. The casual way in which Maddie talked about sex, the way in which these two sophisticated individuals lived, trilled me. It wasn’t sordid. Just erotic. Maddie took me back upstairs, in order to prep me for the afternoon’s photographic adventure.
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