His fingers tangled through my newly grown pubic hair. He pulled, hurting me. Exciting me. He released His grip and gently ran His fingers through the hair again, smoothed it down a bit, up to the point where His finger slipped between my lips. I was surprised when I realized how wet I was. I expected Him to comment on it, but He kept quiet. He pushed His finger into me, pulled it out and ran it up to my clitoris, not breaking contact with my body. Down again, into me, back up again to my clitoris. Over and over again until I arched my back. I wanted His fingers to concentrate on one point – either inside me or on my clitoris. The different sensations running through me confused me to the point where I wanted an orgasm, but could not reach my climax. He knew this and because He knew it, He continued to move through my silky wetness from hole to button and back.
Only once He wanted it, He slipped his fingers into me and slowly started finger-fucking me. Two fingers moved in and out several times. Seconds after he touched my clitoris, I asked permission to climax and when the permission was granted, I felt my own fluids running down towards the bed under me. Several times he brought me to a squirting orgasm. It didn’t quench the fire in me. I wanted more. I spread my legs wider, opening myself up for Him. He knew what I was craving, but He held off a bit longer.
Yet again, only when He wanted it, He moved down between my legs. Two fingers pushed inside me. A third was added. Then a fourth. My hand moved to my clitoris, watching His face and seeing approval. He added His thumb. I was opened wide. My orgasm was building. I was filled by His hand.
“Harder,” I whispered.
His hand moved in and out of me as He fisted me. My fingers danced over my clitoris. My orgasm started building and I knew it would soon explode.
“May I, Sir?” I asked for permission, knowing that if I waited any longer, I would forget to ask.
Seconds later my body convulsed as I climaxed and lay panting and unable to bear any further touch.
His hand was out of me, but His finger was now pressing down on my clitoris, making me shiver. I didn’t want any stimulation anymore, but He wanted me to have one more orgasm. For Him. Very slowly He moved His finger over my button. I pushed my legs together.
“Open your legs!” He commanded.
I tried and almost failed.
“Open your legs!” He commanded again.
There was no way I could spread my legs as wide as I had them earlier. I barely managed to keep them apart. The feeling was intense, almost torturous. His movements were slow, deliberate. I begged for Him to stop, but He didn’t. I rolled my head from side to side, unable to channel the sensations.
The change was sudden. From not being able to handle the touching, I suddenly and fiercely felt another climax building. There was just enough time for me to ask for permission before it overtook me. The second, forced orgasm wasn’t as big as the former (it never is). I was tired afterwards and fell asleep in His arms, knowing yet again that my body was His and He could do with it whatever he wanted.
I was content.
© Rebel’s Notes