A Quartet of Pleasures – Four Steamy, Symphonic Shorts

“You can suck dick better than that,” he taunted. “Look at me.”

She stared up at him through the tears gathered in her eyes. She wasn’t crying from pain, or even the embarrassment of gagging on him. They were submissive tears, maybe even grateful tears. Take me. Use me. We’ve both wanted this for so long.

“Wait a minute.” To her dismay, he stepped away from her. “I have something that helps girls suck dick better. Something that’ll get you moaning and open up that little throat. No, don’t close your mouth. I’ll be right back.”

He went to a different cabinet this time. As he opened it, she saw a neat display of sex toys. So many dildos and vibrators.

Oh Lord. Oh no.

He returned with a small Hitachi-style wand and a black vinyl harness. He placed the tip of the wand against her clit, and smoothed the wide harness around her hips, holding it there. Once he buckled the harness in the back, he attached her hands to that also.

It was more bondage, more catering to his whims.

“Now,” he said, switching on the wand, “you can come as many times as you want, but don’t stop sucking my cock. Understand?”

She nodded, mouth open, hips already twitching. The vibration was euphorically great, not too hard, not too soft, and the harness held it right against her clit. She couldn’t concentrate on that, though.

His cock was shoved against her lips a second time. It was funny, how much more enthusiastically she licked and sucked him with the vibrator going between her legs. She was in heaven. Fuck me, fuck me. She moaned, jerking her hips as she fellated him. If not for his hand on the back of her neck, holding the collar tight, she’d keel right over, fall sideways, or start humping the floor. Instead she humped against the air, gagging herself on his cock until a gargantuan orgasm washed over her.

“Don’t stop,” he said, as her groans peaked in a muffled cry. “Keep sucking. You’re going to make me come just as hard.”

She kept going, and the vibrator kept buzzing, and at first it was too much, and she had to force herself to keep blowing him, but then arousal took over again. Hips jerking, lips sucking, she came a second time. He laughed, apparently enjoying watching her fall to pieces.

After that, he put his hands on either side of her face and fucked her mouth in earnest. Half the time she gagged, the other half she groaned for him to fuck her deeper. The lingering pain of her strapping battled with the vibrator’s ongoing buzz. I can’t come again, she thought. It’s too much, I can’t come again.

But Jonathan started making growling noises, animalistic sounds that she couldn’t have imagined might ever come from him. Cool, strict, commanding Jonathan was going to pieces from fucking her mouth, and even though her whole body trembled from all the stimulation she was receiving, she tightened her mouth and throat around him and put all her efforts into getting him off just as hard as she’d gotten off…twice now…working on a third…

She whined as another, bizarrely intense orgasm coursed from her clit and stormed outward. Her arms strained in their bonds, and her hips moved in rhythm with Jonathan’s thrusts. With a deep groan, he bottomed out in her throat, jerking his hips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered. “Holy fuck.”

She went still, receiving him, letting him thrust as deep as he wanted, even as she choked for breath. He pulled away, and she would have collapsed, but he caught her.

“Shit,” he said. “I wanted to come on your face, but your noisy fucking mouth felt too fucking good.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. I’m sorry?

She’d never been that into facials, but somehow the idea of Jonathan doing it sounded just right. Maybe next time. If there was a next time. For now, she was about to die from orgasm overdose.

“Please, can I close my mouth?” she asked. “Can you turn off the—”

He smiled and shut off the wand, and while it was a relief, her clit felt a little bereft too. He took off the belt and wand and helped her lie down. Everything else stayed on as he stared at her from above, taking off his condom.

“Rest there a little while,” he said. “Then we’ll start act two.”

4.

Ruby rested on her side, her hands still bound behind her, her legs sprawled and weak from too much pleasure. She could feel the collar and nipple disks like Jonathan’s own hands on her. Act two?

Of course Jonathan Gold was a two-act lover. Hell, he was probably a three-act lover. Maybe he’d go for the five-act Shakespearean model, but she probably ought to write out a will before that, because it would kill her.

“I can’t come anymore,” she told him, as he pulled up a chair and placed it beside her.