Page 213 of The Dommes

You. My Queen. My Goddess.

The woman I would marry and spend the rest of eternity with if given the chance.

Can you feel it? Can you feel how eager I am as I lick, tickle, and fuck you? Do you like the way I sink my tongue so far in that you squirm enough to tell me that this is heaven to you? Do you like how the tip of my tongue comes out, covered in your wetness, and contours around your sweet clit? Your voice is firm, but your resolve is weakening. You want me to fuck you as much as I want to do it.

Any apprehension I felt when I walked up here is gone now. I don’t care if she ties me up. I don’t care if she directs what I have between my legs and says, “I’m your God, honey.”

I don’t even care if she pushes me onto the floor, crawling over my supine body, straddling my head, and sitting on my face until I can barely breathe.

“You like eating my cunt, huh?” Kathleen laughs, too amused for her good. Meanwhile, I’m down here unable to answer because her pussy is rubbing all over my mouth, my nose, my fucking forehead as she marks me all over. “Tell me how much you love me with that thick tongue of yours.”

I mean, I thought that was a given.

Nevertheless, I obey, not that I wouldn’t anyway. Yet I’m elated to drive my tongue inside her, taking my chances to breathe whenever she lifts her hips off my flesh. She’s fucking my face as much as I’m fucking her folds. And it’s killing us both.

I want her. I want to feel her climax all over me, hear that beautiful voice scream, and taste her.

Kathleen doesn’t say anything. She’s too lost in the moment, driving her hips down on me, pulling my short hair, and bracing her feet against the carpet as she fills my mouth with her wetness. A lot of wetness. As she cries out, rhythmically taking me, I taste a wave of her sexual energy as it washes over my tongue and runs down the back of my throat. Is this what it feels like for her when I do the same in turn?

“Shit.” She rolls off me. My face is hot with her. I don’t want to think about it. I want to think about her body collapsing from orgasm, her chest heaving into the air with every languished breath.

“Kathleen,” I say, then correct myself, “I mean, Mistress…”

“What?”

I brave pulling my hand out of my binds. I caress her stomach, pushing my fingers into her cleavage and reveling in the shape of her breasts. Those hard nipples are about to puncture holes through her T-shirt.

“I love you.”

She lets me touch her. For some reason, that makes me grateful. I don’t think I could bear her denying me the gift of reveling in her beautiful, glowing body. That would be true torture.

Kathleen sits up, stroking my shoulder. “You must, if you’re lying naked on my floor with my pussy all over your face.”

“Oh, is that what happened?”

I’m kissed, eased over, and straddled across the hips. Kathleen’s slick thighs rub against my skin, and I don’t think twice as the prosthetic – which is hers, mind you, not mine – is guided into her.

We both sigh in contentment. Yet mine is short-lived, because Kathleen moves, swallowing something we share inside her, claiming this extension of our mutual ego with her entire body.

I don’t need to be told what to do. I don’t need Kathleen to command me, and I certainly don’t need to be talked to like a sub to satisfy this bucking woman.

My hands take her hips. My body lifts off the floor, thrusting into her, the vibrations hitting me right on the clit and making me want to come sooner than I’d like. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to come. It doesn’t matter. It’s forever her and me, and that’s all I need.

Our eyes don’t meet. Hers are closed, but mine are devouring her. There’s something magical about the way she fucks me. Although Kathleen has ridden me like this before, let alone after dominating someone, this is completely different. She’s losing herself to everything. Everything. The room. The city beyond these walls. The world. My body is merely a conduit for taking her to a higher, more orgasmic level of existence. I don’t know what it feels like for someone so confident in the way the world declared her to have sex. I will never know.

I do know what it feels like on this end. I feel like a stallion. Hey, don’t laugh. You get what I mean. One of those wild stallions that’s used to having their way across the open plains. Taking what I want, when I want. Then along comes this woman claiming she can tame and break me in. She captures me, traps me in her pen, and hops on for the ride of her life.

The longer this goes on, the more I’m convinced this stallion can accept a rider after all. Just her, though. I don’t want anyone else to have this privilege.

I think it’s safe to say she feels the same way about me.

It doesn’t take long for her to come again. I’m driving deep into her, searching for the most sensitive places a woman hides within. Even though I know where they are, it feels like a more strenuous task when that woman is a Domme and you’ve got this blasted vibrator buzzing against your most sensitive skin.

Kathleen is the most stunning specimen in the universe as she loses it all over me. It’s not only her clenching form or the bounce of her breasts within her shirt. It’s the way her hips slam against mine, the wetness covering my pelvis, the moans of exasperated pleasure, and the way she completely abandons everything holding her back from expressing how she feels.

No words pass between us. They don’t have to.

“Fucking hell,” she finally relents, falling against my chest when she can’t bear to go any longer. Except she’s not about to forget me, her loyal sub who has stayed true this whole time. Kathleen inhales, forcing her chest upward as she kneels beside me and wraps her hand around our prosthetic.

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