Kinky

‘Can I go on top?’ I ask, fearing the moment I have to remove my welts from the sticky leather after a bout of sweaty intense sex.

‘No,’ he says, treating me to a swift nip of the lower lip. ‘I want you to feel it. All the time I am fucking you, I want you to know that you were caned by me. Right?’

‘Oh. Right. OK then.’ I submit. It makes it even better that he refused my request. I am actively submitting and it feels amazing.

He rears up and removes the jeans and knickers, which allows him to open my legs with his knees and crouch back down over me, unzipping his own trousers. He is hard. His cock slips and slides inside my pussy lips, coating itself with my juices while the whole of my lower body pulses with heat from my caned bottom.

‘You tell me when you are close,’ he says, sitting back up to deal with the condom. ‘Will you do that?’

‘Yes.’ Looking up at him, I think he could ask me anything right now and get the same response. Yes, Dimitri, yes, yes, yes.

‘Don’t forget.’ He bears down and then he is in me. My bottom shifts on the leather, the lower portion slightly raised, entailing the reawakening of some very sore spots. I gasp with pain and moan with pleasure, one after the other.

‘Does that hurt?’ he asks, sinking in until I am full and stretched underneath him.

‘A bit. I like it though.’

‘I know. So look at me. Don’t shut your eyes. I want you to look at me all the time I fuck you.’

It’s more difficult than it sounds; easier than the time he took me up the arse, but only slightly. I feel he’s trying to read every hidden, secret thought through my eyes, and succeeding. He knows I love this, to be fucked raw, to be used and dominated and beaten and mastered, and he needs me to know that he knows it. God, it’s hard to admit to, but I have to do it. I have to be honest with him. If there’s one thing I’ve learned today, it’s that.

I look at him as he thrusts and I know he is seeing every shameful fantasy and every kinky urge that has ever crossed my mind. I can’t hide any of it. Sometimes it gets too much and I want to turn my face away, but he catches my cheek with a finger and pushes me back into place every time. On my third thwarted attempt at mind-reading avoidance, I am climbing, heading up, near the point of orgasm and I know he can see it, so I’d better admit it.

‘I’m close,’ I whisper.

‘I see that.’ He stops, holds himself stock-still, biting his lip.

‘Oh, don’t stop, please.’ I rotate my pelvis, trying to urge him back on track.

He pulls out.

I sit up, on one elbow, fighting my way back, reaching out for him. My tender bottom doesn’t like this move and I hiss with sudden pain, but I have to get him back inside me.

‘No, no,’ he says. ‘On your knees now.’

He turns me over, putting me on all fours. In one way, I am grateful for the opportunity this gives me to hide my face from him. In another, I’m not.

‘Oh, look, look, look at this,’ he croons behind me, smoothing his palms over my bottom. ‘So pretty. OK, we do it this way now.’

Gloriously, he is back inside me, a good hard shove until his flat stomach meets my curving arse cheeks, adding to the heat that hasn’t even begun to recede yet.

A groan of appreciation falls from my lips. This feels too good, indecently, obscenely good. His hands on my hips, then one clutching a big hank of my hair and tugging on it as he rides me, his skin on mine, banging into it, making the cane marks throb anew. It’s a wild conjunction of every sensation and I surf it joyously until the moment nears again. Must I tell him again? Couldn’t I keep it a secret?

‘I’m close,’ I mewl, a mite sulkily, dreading another withdrawal.

‘Good, that’s good.’

He keeps going.

Yes, that’s good! I agree wholeheartedly.

I am laughing with delight when the wave crests, bathing in it, letting it wash all over me from my beaded br

ow to my curled-up toes, paying special attention to that sweet rear sting.

I say some words that don’t make sense, might as well be the Russian ones he is coming out with now, as he jolts, in, in, in, hard, giving me his all.

We fall, slack-jawed and spent, together on the leather.