Paris 4:5

She licked around the head of my cock again, greedily, taking me in her mouth again, sucking me deliciously. She wanted me very hard. Her request still rang in my ears: "Fuck me from behind...". Though of course it wasn't a request. It was a demand. I breathed harder, enjoying the sensation of her lips and tongue swirling around my cock, feeling my erection throbbing with each lap of her tongue. I could have cum, just like that; could have so easily let myself go, and cum hard in her mouth, have her drink my cum as I spurted all my spunk again and again into her mouth... but this was still subtly about power, about who had the control in this bed, in this room. She was not prepared to relinquish that control, and had taught me that lesson intensely - if I'd have cum in her mouth, our sexual relationship would be over, she wouldn't call on my services again. I knew I wanted more of her - if that meant giving in to her demands rather than my own, I was happy to do just that - though I had ideas of my own of how this would progress. I allowed myself to imagine that I was in charge again, that she was mine to take as I wished - but I should tell you now, dear reader - never, for a single moment of our liaison in her bed that afternoon was I in control of her.

She slipped my cock from her mouth, giving me a last, lingering lick up my erection, and knelt on the bed, getting onto all fours, her thighs spread wide open. I slipped my hand around my cock, masturbating as I watched her, my cock wet from her mouth, my fingers skidding along the length of my erection deliciously. I could see her cunt, her lips swollen and parted, dripping wet. Her fingers were underneath her, rubbing her clit, sometimes slipping to her cunt, dipping inside it, masturbating as I watched her. She looked around at me, wiggling her bottom enticingly.

"Fuck me," she smiled, "you know you want it. Fuck me hard."

Once again, at that moment, I was lost...

to be continued...