Sunday Snog #130: The Understudy

My snog today is from my BDSM novella The Understudy. The excerpt is a bit longer than most of my snog snippets - but given the heat, I didn't think you'd mind!

When you've recovered from my snog, be sure to visit Victoria's page and check out the other sizzling kisses on offer today!

I knocked on his door precisely at midnight. This time Geoffrey answered in person. 

 

He wore a robe of some shimmery material that looked like silk, twilight blue woven with patterns of gold. His feet were bare. His eyes were hungry.

“Come in, little one,” he purred, stepping aside so that I could pass. “You’re very punctual. I gather you’ve learnt your lesson.”

“Yes, sir.” I didn’t know what else to say. I stood in the middle of the room, eyes cast down and hands clasped in front of me like a schoolgirl about to recite. I couldn’t bear to look at him; I was sure I’d lose control and do something without his permission.

“So you don’t want another spanking?” he laughed.

 

A wave of heat sizzled through me like summer lightning. I wanted his hands on my flesh—I didn’t care about the pain.

“It’s your choice,” I whispered. “Spank me if you want to.”

“Not tonight,” he replied. “For tonight, I have other ideas. Look at me, Sarah.”

 

I raised my head. He snared me with his eyes and wouldn’t release me. As usual under his scrutiny, my nipples tightened and my pussy wept. He seated himself on the sofa, still holding my gaze, and crossed one leg over the other.

“Now strip.”

 

Shame overwhelmed me. I didn’t understand it. I’d been naked in his presence the night before last. He had explored my body, inside and out. Why was I blushing and sweating now?

 

I wanted to obey him, to please him. Truly I did. Yet I couldn’t move.

“Sarah?” he queried, impatience evident in his voice. “Is there a problem?”

 

Suddenly I understood my reluctance. It was all about her. I knew that I couldn’t compete. I glanced around, searching for her photo, not seeing it anywhere. Perhaps it was in the bedroom, where he could fall asleep gazing upon her beauty…

“Sarah!” His rebuke brought my eyes back to his. “If you’re not going to follow instructions, you might as well go back to your room.”

“Oh no! Please don’t send me away. I’m sorry.”

 

I rushed to unbutton my blouse, not caring whether I was graceful or seductive. His scowl relaxed as I bared my breasts, my eager nipples all too obviously erect. His lips shaped themselves into a half-smile as I yanked off my skirt and tossed it away. That was all it took. I hadn’t worn a bra or panties for two days.

“Good girl. Why did you hesitate?”

“I—um—I didn’t know whether you’d like me. Whether I’d please you. My breasts are so small…”

“Your breasts are just fine. Anyway, it’s not your place to worry about such things. When I tell you to do something, just do it. Don’t question, obey.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.” A tiny part of me wanted to protest, to complain, to rage against him for using me to dull his desire for his true love. Then he flicked his robe open, revealing his rampant erection. Any thought of resistance vanished. I wanted to be used.

“Kneel,” he commanded. “Suck me.”

 

I bruised my knees in my hurry to comply.

 

His cock rose proudly from its thicket of black curls. It bobbed in my face, the fat olive shaft ropy with veins, the livid bulb reminding me of a ripe berry. My mouth watered. His rich, musky smell swirled around me, making me hungry. Taking a deep breath, I bent to the task he had assigned me.

 

I swirled my tongue around the tip, then trailed it along his length. His skin was silk stretched over granite, salty and smooth, unutterably delicious. Moisture seeped from the slit. I gathered it with my tongue, savouring the slight bitterness.

“Not so delicate, girl,” he growled.

 

He seized my hair and pulled my face to his crotch. I stretched my lips wide, trying to accommodate his bulk. With a grunt, he rammed his swollen penis down my throat. I choked, suddenly unable to breathe.

 

Sensing my distress, he backed off. I gulped air into my lungs. He waited until I opened my mouth as wide as I could before he plunged back in. This time I was ready. I relaxed my muscles and allowed him to thrust against my palate. He pulled back then drove his rod back in, deeper than before.

 

I tried to suck, to stimulate him with my teeth and tongue, but he was in control. All I could do was open myself and let him take me. He fucked my mouth with the same fury that he’d used on my pussy. It was glorious. I was the vessel of his pleasure. I wanted nothing more.

 

He held my head and jerked his cock in and out of my mouth. Saliva dribbled out the corners of my lips. Each stroke buried my nose in the fragrant nest at his root. I sensed the tension building in him, power rippling up his shaft. Please, master, I silently begged. Let me taste you.

 

He granted my prayer. His cock convulsed against my tongue and flooded my mouth with his warm cum. It flowed and flowed—I swallowed what I could, finding it sweet and slightly chalky—but some spilt down my chin and onto my breasts.

 

When the flood ebbed, he withdrew and sat back on the couch. I remained where I was, kneeling before him with my head bowed. I could feel his eyes raking over me. I was acutely conscious of my tangled hair, my saliva-streaked cheeks, the sticky mess drying on my chest. I knew he could see the wetness coating my parted thighs and smell the ocean aroma rising from my pussy.

“What do you have to say, girl?”

 

I looked up. His x-ray eyes bored into me, through the last layers of pride and artifice. I spoke from my heart.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Thank you, Sarah.”

 

Geoffrey raised me from the floor and pulled me into his lap, then fastened his lips on my bruised mouth. His kiss was like a draught of clear water, profound and refreshing. I melted into him, a deep peace stealing over me. He stroked my hair and traced little circles around my nipples, then licked the droplets of cum from my chin.

“You did well. I know that you’re not used to all this, but you’re learning fast.”