Torn Act III

(To read Torn Act I, Act II)

Her frantic squirming and squeals only made me hungrier.

I love doing this, taking her in this manner. We have an inside joke (pun within a pun there) that when I violate her backside this way she calls me “that bad, bad man.” It often starts innocently with gentle, wet kisses, usually much further north of the equator. They will lead to more of the same slowly traveling south, kiss by lick by nibble, a lazy train ride to a much warmer climate. The moment when my hand snakes underneath the waistline of her pajamas, or when those bottoms are slowly removed to allow wondrously soft cheeks to gradually appear….

Heaven…

She has to know what is going to happen. She’s far too intelligent to not. Which is why I call bullshit when she says that really doesn’t enjoy it all that much. I think it’s just her inner Little Miss Proper not allowing her Inner Cum Whore to speak her mind. But her body language, well! That says volumes to me as I, nibble by lick by kiss, draw closer and closer to her bare ass.

It will begin with dry teeth grazing their soft curves, barely causing the skin to dimple at all through how little pressure I use. But my hot breath and liquid tongue more than make up for any lack of actual biting. It’s almost tradition that I actually chomp down once on each cheek as a way to lighten the mood as well as appease my own selfish desire to do such.

Perhaps some evening I will make a meal out of her restrained and arched backside. That could be fun.

Inch by kiss I work closer and closer to the cleft that separates her backside. My hands roam her freely, fingers deftly sliding the length of this valley and its crevices. Over and over, inch by nibble, I draw nearer to the goal.

She’s usually moaning softly, swaying ever so slightly to the oral and tactile ministrations being administered to her lovely ass. She knows what is going to happen, how its going to occur and that she will likely be rendered immobile by the time I am buried tonsil deep in her depths.

And she waits…

The same fingers that lightly tease that puckered opening repeatedly with feathery touches slowly spread the valley it lies in open wide, corresponding with my right arm sliding underneath her right leg. And with a kiss as light as the morning sun’s rays that are usually the illumination for this rite I make contact…and die.

Bliss…

Now she squirms, the feeble squeals of protest echoing in the silence of our bedroom. Another kiss, firmer. More squirming, a longer squeal that’s obscured, muffled by her pillow as she starts to thrash like a beached trout on my hooked tongue. And with a serpent’s precision I dart that same tongue in deep.

I can’t describe it. It’s not dirty or filthy. Is it the taboo of it that excites me so? Or maybe the fact that, as open as we are with each other, it’s still the one area that has some restrictions? We’ve fucked this way numerous times. Prior to our D/s commitment it was the only way I could really make Her Inner Cock Slut come out to play. I like her. A lot. She is a filthy, nasty, foul-mouthed whore of an ass slut. The things she says make my cock ache as it plows her tightest opening with ease.

But that is when we fuck. When I use my tongue it’s a different story. She protests vehemently with squeals and squirming, which only makes me all that more excited. Especially when, to make it easier and appeal to my desires I place her in the aforementioned over-under arm lock, ram her prone legs up onto their knees, spread her arched ass wide and finish what I started.

Like I was doing to her at the moment. Only this did not start innocently up north with kisses. This was a full-fledged, viscous assault from the south.

I was voracious in the way I defiled her most private area. And I sure as fuck wasn’t about to let her out of the stranglehold I had on her raised hips, regardless of how hysterically she was literally clawing at the bed to escape me.

Over and over her thighs pushed forward in a crawling motion. Her feet scrambled to press against my chest for leverage to get away from me. Cries filled the afternoon.

You know that sound skin makes when it slides across a bed spread? Leigh’s version sounded like sandpaper in her zeal to save her ass, literally. And I was having none of it.

Actually, that’s not true.

I was having all of it.

I ate and licked and probed and flicked to my perverted desire’s satisfaction. It seemed like a half an hour, but was likely no more than five minutes or so. I was thoroughly and selfishly rejoicing in having her ass in such immobile, arched presentation to me.

Satiated, I released her from the vise that was my arms. She collapsed to the bed with a loud whimper, her legs mildly twitching. Both of us gasped for air.

It was then the evil hit me.

I was so lost in the moment that I didn’t notice it at first. But with the removal of my face from Leigh’s ass also came some clarity. I would say sanity, but that would be a lie in hind sight. (bad joke, I know)

I felt it in my face first, specifically my eyes. I felt warm and distant, and not just from all the preceding events. It was as if I was seeing things differently, that I was seeing some things for the very first time.

I now, with the enlightenment of distance, time and introspection, realize that something awoke inside me at some point that afternoon. Something evil, heinous, sadistic and perverted had achieved manifestation.

And a nude woman who reeked of arousal, sweat and cunt was sprawled right in front of me. Or It.

Leigh, to her credit, found the strength to sit up on the edge of the bed. Her face and hair were a symphony of discorded lust, the eyes I adore looked so distant and fragile. A light sheen of sweat added to her erotic luster.

I saw this. I know I did. But at that moment I also saw a mouth that was ripe, full, lush and sexy as fuck. And it had not been violated…yet.

With steely calm I stood. And, staring into her eyes, I grabbed my still erect cock with one hand and positioned it in front of those soft lips I’ve kissed 100,000 times before.

As cold as fuck I told her “Open…..”

Torn Act IV

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10 responses to “Torn Act III

  1. This is my first opportunity to actually comment and, honestly, Scot .. the only thing that has gone through my head throughout this …No, no, no, no … I don’t want to keep reading, but I will support my fellow bleeder in this.

    I honestly hope this isn’t going where I think it is.

    Love and hugs to you both.

  2. This is my first visit to your blog and …wowzers! Definitely a head trip going on….I’m going to stalk, er, follow you….

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