Claim Me (Your Pet For The Night) (2 page)

Her mind raced ahead, thinking of what it was going to feel like when he stretched her with his sex, when he pleasured her with his manhood.

Jolene continued to stroke her lover’s sex, hard and rigid. It almost seemed to shiver beneath her hands, hungering for her, yearning, longing. She ran her fingers up and down, squeezed it tight at the base, pumped it slowly and quickly, played with it. She ran a finger over the helmet, felt the droplets of pre-cum that beaded at the small slit, massaged it into his glans, put a finger to her mouth and tasted him. She relished it, and loved that he let her play with him, if only for a short while.

Suddenly, a droplet of hot wax was drizzled onto her inner thighs, and she cried out in pain and pleasure as she felt the dripping wax harden far before they reached the puffy softness of her sex. She smiled and laughed, turning her head to the side as he glazed an intricate pattern across her skin, running the searing wax up and down her legs, over her lower abdomen and up in between her breasts.

Shuddering in the delight of pain juxtaposed with pleasure, her quivering lips ached for his throbbing manhood. She pulled him toward her by his phallus, like it was some kind of guiding rod or hand hold. She heard him inhale quickly and knew that, in a few moments, he would blow out the candle, and that, for the time being anyway, the wax play was over.

But before he blew the candle out, she felt a drop of hot wax on her outer labia, and squealed half in shock and half in playfulness, feeling the pain so close to her aching, sensitive womanhood, almost threatening in its proximity. But she felt the wax cool and harden almost immediately, and knew any seriously sensitive bits of flesh were out of harm’s reach.

She heard the candle clatter on the floor. Her lover had evidently tossed it away.

With no provocation, or at least none that she could fathom, her lover got up from the bed, pulling his phallus free of her grip, leaving her naked, longing and wanting. She wondered why for a moment, wondering if there was some plan he had, some devilish act he needed to prepare for. However, she couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of insecurity. Had he left because he didn’t want her?

Nonsense!

Her fears were allayed when she felt her lover’s hands grasp her tightly on her thighs, roughly pulling them apart, baring her silken pink once again to him. A whoosh of hot air hit her on her lips, and she moaned and squirmed beneath his hold, waiting for the moment his tongue would make contact, waiting for that instant spears of pleasure would be sent shooting through her.

He teased her, breathing on her, letting his tongue dart out to just glance against her pulsing clitoris. She moaned and wriggled, groaned and gasped, and when she had had enough, Jolene reached out for her lover, finding the back of his head quickly, and clamped his mouth against her womanhood, at the same time bucking her hips forward so that her pubic bone impacted on his face. He groaned as they made contact, and the vibrations sent humming through her sickled her sex even more.

Already sodden and soaking, his added saliva only decreased the friction further, and she felt his tongue swabbing effortlessly up and down her lips, felt it flick against the swollen button that was her clitoris.

The strokes of his tongue began to harden in pressure, began to lick up the entire length of her slit, venturing even as far as her anus. She wriggled in delight and pleasure on the bed, her legs pulling at the binds, the bedposts creaking with her frenzied movement. She felt the press of his teeth on her clit as he nibbled on it, just gently enough for it to be wondrous, and she half-screamed and half-moaned in ecstasy.

Her lover’s mouth and tongue began to roll a regular rhythm around her pearl, and the waves of pleasure that pulsed through her brought her racing forward toward orgasm. It was on the horizon, the point of no return.

She felt one of her lover’s hands reach beneath her, his palm fitting snugly into the space between the small of her back and the mattress. He held her tightly, his hand coming down to grope her buttocks hard, pushing her against his face harder. She ground into him, bucking her hips rhythmically, feeling his chin press into her anus with each upward thrust of her pubis. The tuft of dark hair, neatly trimmed into a triangle, looked like a comical mustache on the sexy face of her lover.

His rhythm never faltered. His pressure never relented. His finger wormed its way to her anus and he pressed it deep inside, filling it, stretching it. A second orgasm shook her violently, the duality of sensations, a finger in her ass and his tongue working maniacally on her clitoris, overwhelming. Spasms wracked her body for a second time, sent her writhing and groaning in hurried, panting breaths. Her cheeks had turned rosy, and her eyes were heavy-lidded in the midst of bliss.

Jolene heard her lover let out a long and guttural groan as he pushed a second finger into her tight ring. He lifted his mouth off her dripping folds and, with his other hand, inserted two fingers into her clenching canal. With two in both holes, converging on a single spot inside her, blocking each other out, she felt completely filled by him, stretched by him. He pushed a third finger into the masticating maw that was her sex and she screamed out, thrilled by the sensation, tendrils of sharp pleasure, with pain lurking in the background, ever threatening, rippling through her. She felt her lover rub his fingers against each other inside her. He lowered his face to the heated flesh of her sex and began to nibble on her clit, driving her into a frenzied fury of bucking and writhing as she moaned and gasped on the bed, and a third orgasm was in sight.

She felt like an instrument, expertly played by her lover, as if he had spent years practicing. And he had. And she trembled with delight.

As the third orgasm approached her, drove headlong toward her, an overpowering need to have him inside her, his manhood, his essence, took hold of her. The sopping core that was her canal ached for him, longed for him, oozing desire between her thighs, excreting pleasure with each of his powerful thrusts with his fingers. He seemed to sense that she wanted him in entirety, and withdrew his fingers, sucking on them and groaning, tasting the tangy nectar, the physical expression of her pleasure and desire.

Then he climbed up her body, and again the bedposts rattled as she saw his cock come into view, wriggling her legs. “No,” she whispered, but she really meant yes. He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her feverishly, and she tasted herself on him and moaned into his mouth. His manhood twitched and flexed as his pubic muscle clenched wildly, waiting to unload something heavy, something large.

He placed his wide dome at her entrance and waited there. She stared into her lover’s eyes, a thousand words sent through a single look, and she gasped as she felt him enter her, gliding inside her effortlessly, her natural lubrication copious. He slowly withdrew himself his entire length, holding himself above her. His shoulder muscles were tensed, and the veins sprang out on his arms, a look of erotic power. His chest muscles tightened and she saw the undulation in his abdominals as he plunged himself back inside her, eliciting a wild shriek.

“Untie me,” she gasped, nearly begging.

“No,” he said, his voice deep and imbued with a carnal hunger that made her yelp with anticipation.

He thrust in and out of her, holding a rhythm, a pace. Their combined moans grew louder and softer to each plunge of his manhood into her womanly depths. The bedposts rattled as she pulled and stretched her legs wildly, the feeling of his girth and length impaling her near overwhelming. The third orgasm was right at her doorstep, and she held it off, suppressed it, wanting to climax with her lover, to feel his shaft twitching and flexing within her while her sex clutched at him in random spasms.

She ringed his neck with her arms, holding onto him tightly, lifting herself off the bed as he continued to plunge himself deep into her, draw himself out his entire length. She felt sweat beading on his back, felt the muscles ripple beneath his skin as his body moved, bucked, jammed into her with abandon. She felt the thick bulge of his veins surging past her lips that quivered at the textured sensation.

She moaned into his ear loudly, wanting to bring him to bear quicker, nearly unable to hold off her own climax any longer. As he submerged himself in her sodden depths with powerful thrust and thrust, the sound of their sex, coated in their combined liquid desire, flooded the air of the room.

Jolene could no longer hold back and she sped past the point of no return. She ventured a hand south, finding the hardened stub of her clit peeking out from its velvety sheath, and rubbed it violently with her fingers, feeling the pulse of her own heartbeat in the small bundle of nerves. She rubbed it vigorously, ferociously, as he continued to plow his manhood into her, impale her, fuck her for all he was worth. His bucks grew wild, and she saw the flutter of emotions play on his face as his own inevitability approached at supersonic speeds.

She and her lover raced toward orgasm together, in unison. She felt him expanding within her. She felt tight tunnel spasming around him.

Her lover reached forward suddenly and grabbed her breast, mashing it violently in his fingers as he arched his head back, letting out a deep and rumbling groan. He was nearly there, and with a savagery in her voice she snarled at him. “Hit me,” she said, her eyes full of a violence, a fury that belied the animal within her. Obliging her, he removed his hand from her breast and lifted it, bringing cracking down on her outside thigh, the sound of the smack like a gunshot going off.

She hissed beneath him. “Again.”

He brought his hand plummeting down to her angry red flesh again, and she felt herself crest, her body convulsing, bathing her lover in the hot fluid of her pleasure. Her sex clutched at him and she felt him swell within him, and he let out a rumbling roar to mix in with her own peaking moans. He erupted deep inside her, and she felt a warmth infiltrate her canal, coat her insides.

They lay together, a heaving and panting mess, entwined, connected, seeing out the ends of their orgasms as they held each other tightly, roughly. Jolene’s body was leaking sex all over her lover, and he in turn was spitting out his last few droplets of essence within her. As their random spasms and twitches ebbed, their hold of one another softened, became tender and more intimate. She kissed him passionately, letting her hand roam down to feel his softening shaft, feeling the mixture of their pleasure on her fingers. She brought her finger to his mouth and he sucked their fluid off her digit, and she laughed in delight before pulling him closer for a kiss once more, so she could get a taste of themselves.

“Oh, you’re home?” she said, playfully. “I hadn’t noticed.”

# # #

On behalf of all erotica authors, I would like to thank you for supporting the genre. It is hugely popular, immensely diverse, and is filled with myriad examples of great writing, and yet it is rarely afforded the privilege of shelf space (and in the virtual sense, too!). Your patronage is what allows us to keep doing what we love.

For that, I am eternally grateful.

I hope you enjoyed this story at least as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please feel free to send me feedback in any way, shape, or form.

If you are comfortable doing so, leaving a truthful review (so that means negatives, too!) would not only help me with my craft, but it would also give me direction on what to write next.

Thank you - AG.

Audrey Grace is the pen name of a thirty-something traveler who has followed her father and his job around the world. A rebellious tomboy in her teenage years, Audrey first discovered her love of scribbling smut with an erotic short story written for class when she was fourteen. It was titled
The Erotic Adventures of Hercules
and earned her an appointment with the principal.

Having lived in Australia, Canada, China, Hong Kong, Japan, and the United Kingdom, smut (and traveling) have always been Audrey’s one consistent. Blessed with a hyperactive sex drive, it’s the one thing she just can’t stop doing. Audrey is currently based in Melbourne, Australia, but she won’t stay there for long!

www.AudreyGraceErotica.com

[email protected]

Check out Audrey Grace’s
Author Page at Amazon
!

* * *

Check out this excerpt of Audrey Grace’s pain and power themed tale, also part of the Your Pet For The Night series of BDSM shorts:

Leash Me (Your Pet For The Night)

By Audrey Grace

* * *

Claire is leashed by her Master, and dragged around downtown Melbourne. He takes her from club to bar, and her torture is unending. She's forced to watch him get a lap dance, and then she's forced to flirt with a stranger. And all along her jealousy writhes and squirms within her.

But when she's finally alone with him, she fails to heed his orders, and so she is punished quite severely... with molten candle wax.

* * *

You pull me roughly by my collar into a darkened alley. It’s a tiny space between two buildings, and metal piping surrounds us. You push me hard against the brick wall, and the force of it, it shocks me. And then you move in for a kiss, a kiss like no other could be.

You break the kiss and urgently whisper into my ear. “You’re mine,” you say, “you’re mine,” you say, “don’t you ever forget that!”

I nod and purr in your ear and your hand dives into your pocket. You retrieve the leash and fasten it once again to my collar.

“We’re going back to the hotel,” you say with boiling passion. “I’m sorry but we won’t be able to go to the cocktail bar.”

You tug on my leash and walk quickly away and I am left to follow. Except this time I know where we are going, but still…I
must
follow.

And still, I want to follow.

We walk up to the fancy five star hotel, and burst into the lobby. People are too busy chatting amongst themselves to notice us walk in, even though I am leashed to you.