Freedom

Bdsm

“Hey.”

He didn’t answer, he just stared at her, unsure what it meant to have her standing at his door.

“Can I come in?”

He stepped out of the way and gestured for her to move past him into the apartment, and watched her as she walked by. His nerve endings felt on end as she passed him. He didn’t speak as he picked up her bag from the doorway and shut the door. He stood with his hand on the door for a moment and realized he was clenching his jaw. When he turned, she was standing with her head cocked slightly to the side and a mischievous smile on her face. Her dress was low cut, not skin tight, but it clung to her body and accentuated the curves of her breasts and hips, the flatness of her stomach, and ended midway down her lean thighs. She was tall, with long legs and a swimmer’s frame with the kind of breasts that plastic surgeons attempted futilely to duplicate.

“You did miss me,” she said, seeing the look on his face.

“Yeah, I missed you. A lot. I can’t believe you …,” he started, his voice rising, but then stopped and took a deep breath. “Take of your dress.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t move.

“Take off your clothes, and go over to the couch.”

When she still didn’t move, he turned and opened the door to the apartment and then walked into the couch and sat down. She looked from the open door back to him, bemused, and after a moment walked to close it. He pushed a button on a remote and music filled the room before she made it to stand in front of him. Their gazes met for the length of a heartbeat, two, three, and then she moved her hands to her waist, took the fabric of her dress in her fingertips and began to slowly pull it upward. At first he continued to meet her stare, but his eyes were drawn to the bottom edge of the dress. It inched up her legs and then paused, hovering just at the point where a hint of black lace that could have been more imagination than reality was exposed. He pulled his stare up to her face and found her watching him, her bottom lip clenched lightly between her teeth. He nodded at her and by the time his eyes were back at the bottom of the dress, it had cleared her waist, fulya escort revealing the curved lines of her hips, her narrow waist, and a delicate black lace thong that was both transparent and opaque, designed to reveal and tease while still hiding her most intimate parts.

The skin of her stomach was pale and taut and the contrast between her skin and the dark fabric of her dress was incredibly erotic. After the dress was over her head, he could see that her bra was also black and lace, and revealed more of her perfect breasts than it hid. He marveled again, one of countless times, at the incongruity of her natural breasts on her lean, athletic frame.

“Turn around,” he said and then added, “Slowly.”

When her back was to him he said, “Stop. Spread your legs.” He leaned forward until she could feel his breath on the small of her back and let his fingertips run up her legs along the outside, across her ass and back down before letting one hand rise again up the inside of her of her thigh to end with his palm against her groin. He felt her shudder and saw the reaction on her skin and abruptly gave a light slap on her ass. She gasped, but didn’t move, and after a moment, he reached up and unhooked her bra with one hand and left the other cupped against her. She slid the straps off her shoulders and let the bra fall to the floor without guidance. His hand traced her bare spine and then settled on her ass for a moment before leaning back into the couch again.

“Take it off.”

She looked back over her shoulder at him as she used her thumbs to ease the fabric over her hips. She bent forward and pushed the thong downward to slip down her long legs and then stepped out of it. As she straightened, he took hold of her waist and pulled her onto his lap. He cupped her breasts, drew her against him, and ran his hand down her stomach and to her cunt. She gasped as he began to rub her clit with his middle and ring fingers at the same time as he squeezed her breast and nipple. When she began to arch against him, he used his legs underneath her to spread hers and without warning entered her with a finger. He pressed bebek escort against her clit with his palm, drove his finger in and out of her, and then added another finger as she began to breath more raggedly.

He kissed her neck and bit at it lightly and she moaned his name and covered his hands with hers before saying, “Please, don’t stop.”

He chuckled and bit at her shoulder and plunged his fingers harder and more quickly, making the muscles in his forearm stand out. He felt her clench at him with her hands and her cunt, and knew she was coming. She pulled at his wrist as she trembled to the end of her orgasm and he pulled his fingers from her and then pulled her chin around toward him to kiss her hard on the mouth. Still kissing her, he stood, holding her behind her knees and lifting her with him before lowering her so she could stand against him.

“Undress me.”

She kissed hungrily at his neck as she unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it free from his pants, and pushed it off of his shoulders. When the shirt was off, he clutched her hair near the base of her skull and pulled her into another hard kiss while she pulled at his belt, and when it was undone, he turned her, not breaking the kiss until he pushed her to a sitting position on the couch. She looked up at him as she pulled the button of his jeans open, yanked his zipper down, and tugged his jeans down over his hips. His cock stood out in front of him, and she took it in her hand, stroked him several times and then drew him into her mouth. He groaned at the sudden wetness and heat of her mouth and gripped at her shoulders. He began to move his hips, fucking her mouth as she held his ass with her hands and he still held her shoulders.

“Touch yourself. Play with your cunt,” he growled, and she reached to comply, moaning around his cock as she began to finger herself.

Abruptly, he stopped her and pulled her to her feet. He held her by the wrist and wrenched her along behind him to the bedroom. He spun her around and pushed her onto her hands and knees on the bed and brought his hand down sharply on her ass, once, twice, three times in florya escort rapid succession. She yelped with each strike and then groaned when he pulled her ass apart and licked her roughly, first her cunt and then her asshole.

“Oh, Jesus, Fuck. Goddamn,” she whimpered, clutching at the bedding as he penetrated her with his tongue and held her ass apart. She let her head fall forward onto the bed so that her back made an elegant curve from her shoulders to the base of her spine. He nudged her knees farther apart and without pausing thrust into her, slamming forward until his thighs were against hers and then, thumbs digging into her waist pulled back until he was all but out of her before driving forward again. He began to pick up the pace and every few strokes gave a light slap at her ass. Faster and faster, over and over, he crashed into her, fucking her so he could feel the exertion in his abdomen and an ache in his balls. He was rough, angry, pouring emotion into the act, and she absorbed it, absorbed him, understood him. Sweat beaded on both of them, breath coming in jagged whispers. She was making inarticulate sounds and then howled his name as she came. The pressure of her contracting around him started a howl within him, and ratcheted tenseness through his muscles.

He snarled her name and she twisted around, already reaching for his cock as he seized at her like she was freedom itself. She had him in her mouth grabbing at his ass as he came, rigid and vibrating with the intensity of the orgasm. When he finished, he collapsed to kneel, ass on his heels and she continued to suck at him, until he gasped and pushed at her shoulders to free himself. He caught her head in both hands and pulled her up to him, kissed her forehead, and then her eyes, cheek and then softly on the lips. He eased her over backward until they were lying on the bed, her head on his chest and shoulder, one leg drawn across him as he stroked her hair.

“Fuck, I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

“Me too,” she whispered with a smile, and then, “Better?”

“Yeah. Better, Sweet Girl. Better now.”

They talked for a while, the pauses between responses growing longer until they were both asleep. In the morning they made love, slowly, tenderly before she made coffee wearing just the shirt she’d taken off him the previous night and he cooked, shirtless and touching her at every opportunity. Reassuring himself that she was still there, still freedom itself.

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