Page 44 of Ship of Fools

“Do it.”

His eyes are closed so I take that as a good sign, wriggling around trying to get into a good position. He giggles. I slap his arse.

I don’t use lube. Because I can be a bastard too, and I think perhaps I lubed him up a bit with the wand. I also want him to feel me, tomorrow. And the day after. If I can.

I’m not gentle or careful, and I don’t warn him. Instead, I grab his legs as forcefully as I can, and use my hand to shove my cock inside him in one foul, dirty move that has him roaring with what I hope is more pleasure than stretch. Or pain.

“FUCK!” he roars.

“OH, FUCK!” I shout back.

I’d forgotten about this. The amazing warmth of having your dick shoved into a nice wet, warm, tight hole. I love that it’s him, because,fuck, I love him. I love that it’s me making him drop his legs and wrap them round my hips, so he can force me further inside.

“Hold still, I want to savour this.” He says softly. “I want you to fuck me, really hard. Give it all you’ve got, baby.”

“Who’s in control here?” I scold him.

“Fuck me!”

I respond by giving him a firm slap on his thigh.

“More.” He moans.

“Fucking brat.” Comes out of my mouth.

“Fuck me.” He smiles, then winks. “I need to be taught how to behave, Sir.”

“Don’t mock me,” I warn, trying to remain stern, when I half need to come, half feel faint and half need to fuck the living daylights out of him.”

“I shouldn’t be allowed to chat back to you like this,” he says, in his own Dom voice.

“I can Dom you fine, all by myself. I don’t need your help,” I say back, mimicking his sternness. “Don’t be a brat.”

“Then fuck me, Sir.”

I lean over him, squashing his cock nicely between us, and kiss his stupid face.

“What did you say, my little Dommy brat?”

“Fuck me.” He stares at me, and he’s soo bloody intense that I almost lose it again. My dick is a loose cannon stuck inside him, and my hips are trying to move of their own accord, and there is sweat forming on my forehead, despite the air conditioning blasting though the room, and I swallow loudly as I try to compose myself.

“Gonna fucking come the minute I move.” I whine

“I’m trying to help, to get you to, you know, be rough with me. Slap me. Like I do to you.”

“You’d like me to?”

“You don’t have to ask. I told you, give it to me. Be a bit rough. Show me how you like it, and how far to go. I…”

My hand flies through the air before I can stop myself, landing the perfect slap across his face, leaving a frankly terrifying red blush on his cheek.

He swears loudly, a string of explicit poetry echoing through the room, at the same time as he grunts out, “More,” as I am struggling to hold myself up on one arm.

My hand still aches as I dish out another one with the back of my fingers, leaving nice red lines in his stubble, which I kiss before sticking two fingers straight down his throat.

“Suck them,” I demand, as my hips finally start to roll. I slide out and push back in, leaving me dizzy with arousal.

The third slap is even harder, the wetness of my fingers leaving a delicious sound in its wake, as he shouts in surprise, and pain, and fuck, I don’t know.

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