Page 93 of Torch
“Get naked, bitch. This happens now.” She opened her mouth to argue, and I reached out to grab her throat.
“That wasn’t a request, Grace. Get naked, and get on the fucking bed. Be careful of your tattoo, but be prepared to get fucked good and hard. I might even let you suck me first, if you’re a really good girl.”
As soon as I released her throat, she turned and made her way to the bed, sashaying her hips as she walked, and fuck me, I didn’t think my boner could get any harder, but there you have it. It’s like fucking granite at this point.
“Faster,” I barked, tossing my t-shirt at the chair as I passed it, and undoing my jeans, before kicking off my boots.
Grace reached the bed, and started to strip, taking care not to scrape her yoga pants over the new tattoo, and letting out a pained hiss as she lifted that leg up to step out of them. We’d have to go easy on it.
I was thinking doggy style would be the best option for her, because my preferred position of her flat on her stomach, and me riding her ass, wasn’t going to work tonight. Next time for sure.
I went straight to my drawer, and dug out the bottle of lube I’d ordered for this very occasion. There was no way I was going to try doing this, without the right stuff to make it easier on her.
She eyed the bottle warily, as she lay back on the bed, so I lay it beside her, and climbed up on top of her, straddling her, but with one knee between her legs, so I wouldn’t rub against her newly tattooed skin.
“Babe, just relax. I’m gonna go back to being a prick in a minute, but just remember that I love you, and there’s no way I’ll let anything hurt you, okay? I’ll be gentle, I’ll prep you properly, I have the right kinda lube for this, and I know I can make it feel good. You trust me, right?” She nodded, biting her lip nervously.
“Good, so trust that I’m all about making this amazing for you. I want to do this plenty of times over the many decades we’ll be together, so I don’t want to put you off this first time, do I?”
Grace
Everythinghewassayingwas logical, and sounded like the right words, but I couldn’t help feeling like something might go wrong, and I’d end up at the hospital I worked at, having to explain how my injuries were because of anal sex gone wrong. I’d be a laughing stock. I’d be in pain, and never be able to go back to my workplace.
“Babe, trust me.” Torch kissed me gently, teasing at my nipples, and moving his lips to my neck, pressing soft kisses against my skin. His gentle touches turned to rougher pinches of my nipples, and as always, that had me writhing beneath him, pushing my hips up to try and get some attention for my clit, or even better, him inside me.
Why couldn’t he just… oh god… his fingers delved deep inside me, finding enough wetness to make it easier for him than I’d imagined. How could I be so wet, when I was terrified of what he wanted to do to me?
Torch kissed his way down my body, pressing my legs wide, to swipe his tongue right up my centre, circling it around my clit as my hips tried to push up into his touch, even as he held them down, and my hands flailed in the air.
“You can hold my head, babe, but I’m afraid there’s no hair to grip onto, so you’re just gonna have to trust me to know where you like my tongue.”
He teased me over and over, until I was shuddering under the onslaught of his tongue, but he backed off every time I thought ‘this is the time, and I’ll get to orgasm’, and I had to fight the urge to slap his smug face, when he grinned at me each time he let my release slide away from me.
“Please, Torch.”
“When I fucking say you can, whore,” he murmured, slapping a hand right over my poor throbbing clit, and sending a shockwave of sensation through my empty aching pussy.
He sat up then, twirling a finger at me, and I shrugged, because what the hell did it even mean?
“Roll over and get on your hands and knees, babe. Don’t hurt that tattoo, but fucking hurry up if you wanna get off.”
He backed up from the bed, so I could carefully turn over, and assume the position, everything trembling in the aftermath of those denied orgasms that I so desperately wanted.
The position doused my arousal a little though, because he wanted my ass, and clearly he was about to get down to business. His hands settled on my butt cheeks and he pressed them apart, which was an oddly vulnerable feeling, and then something warm and wet rubbed at my anus. His tongue? I didn’t want to enjoy the sensation, but it was making me wriggle, and I think even the wrongness of it was half of the allure.
“Torch, no!”
He chuckled, slapping my ass with one hand, while the other gripped the other cheek.
“Yes, babe. You know the one word that’ll stop me, but please, give it a try. Have I ever let you down in bed?” Damn him when he uses logic!
“No,” I said grudgingly, wincing when I caught the sound of the lube bottle being popped open. A moment later, cool liquid dribbled down between my ass cheeks, and a finger followed, gliding easily between them, and back up again.
“Relax, anyone would think I’m about to kill you. I’m just gonna fuck your ass, and make you scream your orgasm loud enough for the guys in the bar to be able to hear.”
His finger circled my anus, teasing the opening, before it pressed gently, just a little, like he was lubing the entrance, before he’d continue. More cool liquid followed, and again the teasing finger, which delved a little deeper this time.
Truthfully, it wasn’t a struggle for him to push it inside me, and even though I refused to admit it out loud, it wasn’t feeling bad at all. Strange, but not bad. It actually made me feel like his control was being asserted, so strongly, that I just wanted to melt, and let him do anything. Should I just stop arguing, and let him do it?
