Page 49 of Submissive Lies

I stopped moving, and he gently laid my hands down onto my stomach. I lifted my head up so I could look into his eyes, and the grin I saw staring back up at me was wicked with triumph at what he’d done.

“Well… I suppose…” And with that he lowered himself back down between my legs, his mouth closing down on my clit.

Fuck. Steve had brought me right to the edge before he’d pulled away to tease me, and as he drew my nub between his teeth and rolled the tip of his tongue over it, my body responded with aching need. My back arched up, and I cried out, his tongue like putting live wires to my pussy. Jolts of electricity which shot through to spread out over nerves that soaked up every amp. I ached for this so fucking bad. I wanted this orgasm. Hungered for it. A need that strained more than just my body. It was a craving to be rewarded by Steve for my submission, shown with every movement of his mouth what a good girl I’d been. And he knew just how to do that, working at me with that glorious tongue of his. A man on a mission who drew wet patterns over slick, swollen flesh. Every suck of my heated sex into his mouth yanked a shudder out of me, pulling me along towards the precipice. Every nip of his sharp teeth into blood-engorged flesh jerked sounds out of me. Cries that rose in volume, stacking one atop another until they melded into a single sound that forced me bite down to keep it from becoming a scream.

The sheets became twisted flotsam as my hands thrashed at the bedcovers above my head, fingers twisting blindly to find whatever purchase they could in the fabric. I was tossed on waves that built higher and higher the closer I got to the shore of my impending orgasm. The one that Steve fucking Friess was building like a conductor to a crescendo. I rode the crest of each one, falling down the face until drawn back up on the next, rising, rising, rising further each time until I slipped over the edge to the next. Blood thrummed through me until it roiled deep through my veins, pounding in my ears. Steve moved with me, trying to lead in this tango we were dancing. He pulled me along, timing the movement of his tongue to the reactions of my body. Dipping deep one moment, the next pushing down with hands against my thighs, pinning me in place with a strength that no amount of struggling could overcome. And I tried. I shoved against the restraint. My body demanding reaction to the carnal energy that pulsed through me.

When I realized that resistance was pointless, submission became the only option. My sweat-slick thighs struggled weakly against his still-clothed body, a shivering counterpoint to the granite that was him. The crests were coming faster, building higher each time, piling one on top of the other. And then there were no more gaps, only a final summit which kept going up, up, up towards a peak where I knew what awaited me. When I reached it, I knew my body would finally relent, and I would fall. Collapse. Slip down to a place I would not come back up from. To become placid compliance to the unstoppable force he was. I wanted that now, needed it as he pushed me further up that face.

Sensations pulsated through me, my pussy contracting to the rhythm of his tongue. He slowed, and the gentling of his movement was an ache. One I thought for a millisecond might drop me once again over a crest downwards. I was wrong. Steve’s tongue plunged into me before I could draw another breath. And with that my body spun out of control. Blinding bright whiteness burst at the back of my eyes as I slammed them shut. The surge of contractions became jerky convulsions as my orgasm shattered me. My fingers splayed out against the sweat-soaked bedding above me before clenching back onto themselves. Nails dug savage divots into my palms as I dissolved into a million pieces of pleasure. I fell down that final face. Down at the same time my back arched, hips rising up to meet that tongue one final time. I dove into the pool of decadence at the base of that wave, plunged into it and came up only when a breath drew out a ragged gasp I could not contain. I lay there floating in that warm blissful sensation as the pulses of my orgasm faded, the gasp becoming a moan that slipped into a whimper.

I lazed with my eyes closed, my mind drifting and refusing to take notice of the outside world. My chest was still heaving in the aftermath of coming before it finally calmed, my breathing easing back to normal. Steve gently caressed me with his tongue, peppering my inner thighs with kisses, an occasional light nip to keep me awake and on my toes. For every touch of his lips to my skin I gave back a moan, a purr when his breath whispered across my labia, a gasp to signal approval of each nip. I sprawled there in ecstasy until I felt Steve come up from the foot of the bed, straddling me, bringing me back to Earth as he looked down into my contented face.

“Hey there,” he said softly.

“Mmm. Hello, sir.”

I gazed up at him. Tousled hair, Boy Scout grin of satisfaction plastered over his face. I couldn’t help but smile back. He just looked so damn good right now. Warmth radiated off him as his hands brushed gently over my languid body. His gorgeous eyes made a slow circuit as they grazed over my face, dipping down to catch the slow evening of my breath. His gaze drifted down to my breasts, my nipples tightening as I caught him doing so. I loved everything that he had just done, the teasing, the tormenting, all of it, and as his eyes moved back upwards the contentment in them made it apparent he had too.

“So,” he said, cocking his head to one side. “I didn’t hear bubblegum once. I’ll take that as a sign of approval.”

“Yes,” I drew the word out, a giddy laugh bubbling up out of me. “Oh, yes. Very much approved.” As I grinned up at him, he shifted, pressing his hips and abdomen into me. If I had any lingering concern as to whether he’d enjoyed what we’d just done, one very rigid part of him made it quite clear I was mistaken. I reached up and grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him down to me.

That is to say, I tried to pull him down. He held back, his eyes narrowing, the smile turning from one of satisfaction to smoldering need.

“I beg your pardon?” His voice was soft, yet forceful. Reminding me that despite this interlude, we hadn’t completely fallen out of our roles just yet.

“Please… sir,” I whispered. pursed my lips together, my eyes going wide as I stared up at him, pleading. A slight tremble made its way up from my toes to my fingers at both his look and tone.

He held himself up on extended arms, hands straddling me. His mouth curled upwards, tenderness that slipped up into eyes that glowed, affectionate once more. He gave a low chuckle. “Well, I’ll give you a pass this time. You have been a good girl…” Then he was lowering himself and his lips were on mine, kissing me deeply.

His tongue slipped past my open lips to move with mine. A trace of a flavor I had almost forgotten followed him inside. A bite that was sharp, electrical, unpleasant and pleasant at the same time. It had been a long time since I’d tasted the tang of my sex, the—for me at least—prickly piquant kick that I’d long associated with the essence of it. Tasting myself on him became yet another tiny homecoming, a small marker on the path of my return back to who I truly was.

Steve and I lay there entwined. It was wonderful, so comforting and while not exactly aftercare, because God knew I was hoping there would be more before we got to that, it just felt so right. Eventually he leaned down and bit my lower lip, dragging it up as he pulled away. Teeth drew on the swollen flesh and I mewled until he suddenly let go.

“Well,” he said, staring down at me. “I suppose I should be going…”

I froze.

What?

What the hell did he just say?

I was paralyzed. There was no way I could have heard that right. My eyes darted left and right in consternation, as if somehow I would see the correct words if I just looked in the right spot. And yet, there he was, still fully clothed, glancing away towards something before he turned back to stare at me. I looked into his eyes, searching for some sign of what he was thinking, and saw only a sober gaze staring back.

Fuck. Oh fuck, he’s serious. He’s getting ready to leave. No. No, God no, he can’t do this. He can’t leave now.

Alarm turned to panic as he pushed himself up off the bed, standing at the foot. I scrambled up, hands flailing for purchase on the crumpled sheets. I wriggled across the bed, fighting for leverage with wrists still bound. Finally, I managed to get myself up on my knees, staring at him in disbelief.

“What are you doing?” The words spilled out of me as I shoved my hands towards him, incredulous.

“I should be going. Let you get some sleep.”

“I…” For a moment I couldn’t find my words again.

What the fuck was he saying?

“I… I want you! I need you! You… you can’t be serious?”

---