Katherine:
And so we lay the long night through in each other's arms, touching, tasting and
making love as only two people who truly know each other can. The dawn finds us
weary, but content, sated and yet ready to rise again. How many times has He
loved me during the long night past? I have no recollection. There were times
when we dozed, still joined, His softened sex still pressing between my delicate
folds as He lay sleeping against my breast...and then we'd wake and begin again.
Now the sun peeks in once more through the tiny window on the eastern wall, and
I feel Him stirring beside me. His engorged manhood lightly grazes my thigh, and
I know that He wants me again...He wants me...He wants me. The thought fills me
with pure, unadulterated joy, and I smile, willing and happy to give myself to
Him for as long as He asks.
We've awakened to the sound of the gulls, crying as they surf the offshore
breeze...children laughing on the dunes below. Someone is playing on our beach.
Oh well, let them have it for now. Everything I want, everything I will ever
want is lying right here beside me. I'm content...so content.
His eyes sparkle as he awakes. I've heard that some men are more easily aroused
in the morning...some at night, but not my Captain. Morning, noon, night, it
doesn't seem to matter. He is perpetually and inexhaustibly Male, and I love
Him for it.
He's tired this morning, perhaps a little stiff. He's been on the road so long,
and last night was demanding and rigorous. I expect Him to reach for me right
away, but I'm surprised. Instead I hear the water splashing in the shower, the
rumble of the shower door on its tiny rollers and know where He's headed first.
I close my eyes again. I can sleep for a few more minutes before He's through.
Surely then...
But I'm wrong! I smile as He peels the blankets from my naked body. Ahhh...the
shower. He has other plans for us this morning. I should have known.
He bends to scoop me up into his arms, but not before He inserts His finger deep
into my vagina...testing the "water" so to speak. Am I wet already? Probably.
I'm always wet when he's around. Finally He scoops me up in His arms and carries
me into the bathroom...to the shower where we've spent so many pleasurable
moments.
The sound of the warm water rushing madly against the tiles stirs me. I wriggle
in his arms. I want to do this gradually. But still He persists, and in a
second I find myself in the shower, the warm water pulsating down against my
breasts. I open my lips to speak, but He stills me with a kiss, His hand
probing between my thighs.
"You need to pee, don't you Katherine." It's a statement, not a question. He
knows. He planned it this way!
I nod, the slow realization of what He wants me to do flooding through my
shivering flesh. The knot in my stomach tightens ever so slightly, until, with
calm deliberation He kneels on the tile before me and parts my slit with His
left hand, exposing me to his embarrassingly close inspection. Then, taking His
right, He inserts the middle finger deep inside and begins to cup my sex.
"Do it now...in my hand, Katherine," He instructs. "I want to watch."
Suddenly the flood gates slam shut. I can't! I'm not able to pee if he's even
in the same room shaving! How can I do it now, like this?
Slowly He presses me back against the cold tiles of the slower, His left hand
baring my sex in intimate detail, His right closing in rhythmic waves between my
thighs.
He waits.
I can't! I try, but nothing comes! I attempt desperately to maneuver my mind
onto other things, something besides His finger probing my vagina, His eyes
waiting for the flow of my body fluid to begin...His voice urging me...urging
me.
Instead I focus on the sound of the water running down my body, and how very
badly I needed to pee. I imagine myself alone, relaxed, enjoying the sweet
release that my lover wishes me to display.
And suddenly it comes, a trickle at first. Then in a warm, steaming rush it
cascades into His palm. The Captain watches with satisfaction as the golden
stream flows gratefully from its tiny aperture, running warmly between His
fingers and down between my feet.
"That's good, Katherine...just a little more...a little more," he coaxes, His
hand pumping now between my thighs as though to wring every last drop from my
body. "Now it's my turn," He informs me, His eyes bright and hard with intent.
"I want you to sit in the corner, Katherine...on the floor. Yes, just like
that...good. Now, bring your knees up and open your legs...wider...wider."
I hesitate. We've never done this before. Am I doing it right? Again I feel a
tiny squirt of urine escape from my slit. Scant moments ago I couldn't initiate
the flow, and now I can't stop it! Incredible.
I look into His eyes for approval, my legs bent now and spread until each thigh
is tight against a shower wall. My inner folds peek from between my gaping
labia in this posture. I must be a sight! He should be laughing at my comical
pose, but He isn't...not at all. Instead His eyes glow even brighter, and He
continues to instruct me on my task.
"I want you to use both hands now, Katherine. Slip your fingers between your
pussy lips and stretch them as wide as you can. I want to see it completely
open, your 'hole' wet and gaping. I want to be able to see right down inside of
you. Do you understand?"
Silently I nod. Will He want me to touch myself at some point? I hope so.
This whole business is making me extremely aroused. Again I feel the slow
trickle of urine seep onto the tile floor between my legs. What's wrong with
me? Why can't I stop?
"You're still peeing, Katherine," He observes with some degree of satisfaction.
"I like that. You're out of control. I like that too," He continues.
"Now, Katherine, I want you to take your thumbs and caress your clit. Pinch it
between them...massage it...make love to it, but keep your pussy open for me.
I want to see everything...all of it."
He stands between my outstretched feet now, His own legs parted, His hands
holding His shaft between them...aiming it between my full and gaping labia. I
lean back, my thumbs working frantically, my sex quivering and on the
verge...and then it happens.
Thrusting my hips forward, I moan, the advent of my hot, sticky cum effectively
closing off the seeping trickle of urine as I writhe on the floor beneath my
Captain.
A splash...hot and wet as it hits me...squarely into my gaping furrow, running
in steaming profusion into my vagina and mingling with my own juices. His aim
is diabolical! Do men practice these things? Maddeningly it beats against my
clit, its pulsating heat driving me as my thumbs never could. And then, after
what seems like an incredibly long interval, He stops.
He's left me panting. Again. His appetites have become my own now, and I too
have become insatiable, it seems. Slowly He turns to rinse Himself in the
spray, and I rise up behind Him, my hand eager to touch His pink and vulnerable
flesh. I take the soap from the shower caddy and begin to lather His back,
circling in slow, easy motions over his muscled contours...massaging the curve
at the small of His back, running my soapy fingers between the furrow of His
bottom.
I kneel behind Him now, and he groans in satisfaction. I've anticipated His
needs. I'm getting better at that. I'm really trying. It's important to me
that I get it right...so important.
He parts his thighs to give me better access to his genitals, and I take
advantage of the breach to move forward between His legs, repositioning myself
before Him and giving His knob a tiny kiss before attempting to apply the
lather. It jerks as I taste it, a tiny involuntary spasm that I've come to
love. It means that He has things He can't control either...just like me.
Perversely, I want more. I want to watch Him squirm as I did, to exert my
control over Him for a change. Do I dare?
Yes. At this moment...and in this place...I do.
And so I part my lips and inhale Him deeply into my mouth...into my throat. I
feel Him grow and harden, warming against my tongue as I lap over and over again
along the length of His shaft. I lather my hands now and begin to massage His
scrotum, rolling the hard, round spheres in my soapy hands, squeezing them
between my palms as He quivers before me.
Then, with insidious delight, I liberally lather my finger and reach around His
hip to probe the tiny, puckered bud hidden between His bottom cheeks. He bites
his lip. Has He ever done that before? I don't think so. I'm encouraged, and
I press further...deeper until my finger is embedded up to the first knuckle.
He wriggles. This is wonderful! I'm driving Him wild! I continue...up to the
second knuckle, all the while sucking...sucking his steely member, my other hand
pumping His balls with slow abandon.
Another thrust and my finger is fully engaged, its nail gently prodding His
prostate deep inside. Smiling softly, I begin to move...in and out...in and...
He grabs me then, raising me and thrusting his right thigh between my legs,
holding my brazen digit in place with His hand as He crushes me against his Hip.
His hand circles my waist, lowering, caressing until it too has penetrated deep
into my crevice and forced its way inside my tight ring of muscle. He
plunges...unerringly...the force of His hand controlling my body as I writhe
against Him. He's in command once again. I sigh. Life is good...so good.
I'm wet, but once more it has nothing to do with the warm water cascading over
my breasts and belly. This time it's His finger, penetrating my tender aperture
and the warm grind of His thigh against my sex. I feel my legs begin to shake,
clutching greedily around his limb, rubbing myself along his roughened skin
until he's coated with my slippery juices and I begin to whimper in his arms.
And then I cum, shaking, convulsing atop his leg like a dog in heat, my finger
jabbing mindlessly inside of Him as I throw my head back and groan aloud.
He lets me have my way, watching the contortions that play over my features
until He can stand it no longer. Then, once more lowering me to the tiles, He
disengages his finger and begins to pump His shaft in front of my face, a look
of impassioned concentration filling his gaze.
Dazed, I part my lips, thinking this is what He expects of me, but I'm wrong
this time. Instead he strokes himself once... twice...three times until His cum
erupts, splattering into my face, drizzling across my eyelids, over my cheeks,
and wetting my lips on its downward path across my quivering breasts.
He peruses his handiwork and smiles. Then, tracing my lower lip with His
cum-slick thumb, He once again raises me to me feet and kisses me deeply.
His expression has changed now...become somber, preoccupied as He washes the
slippery trails from my face and body. I can't "read" him anymore. I don't
understand. What's He thinking? What pensive thought occupies His mind as He
searches my eyes this time? I want to know...need to know.
Finally, He's through, and bundling me in a large bath sheet, He carries me back
to the bed and lays me gently among the rumpled sheets. He's made a decision.
Something is about to happen...but what?
"Do you trust me, Katherine?" He asks, his voice serious and penetrating.
Do I trust Him? Does He have to ask such a question? Doesn't He know the answer
already? "I love you," I respond, "Of course I trust You. Did You ever doubt
it?"
He pauses then, couching His words, His tone in a way that will circumvent my
momentary sensitivity. "I know that you love me, Katherine," He whispers softly,
"but do you trust me? Would you put your life in my hands...your last breath?"
I'm worried now. What's He talking about? My life...my last breath? I look into
His eyes, seeking the key that will unlock the mystery of His words, but it lies
hidden behind His shuttered gaze.
"Will you put yourself in my hands, Katherine, without question? Will you give
me your last measure of faith, all that you have to give, and hold nothing
back?"
My mouth is dry, so dry. My voice won't respond. He holds me with His eyes, and
I know. I will. I'll give him anything. My heart, my soul, my life. "Yes," I
answer simply, "It's yours. It always has been."
He nods then, satisfied, and begins to suckle at my breast, taking the nipple
between His lips in long, wet sighs that rumble against my flesh. He knows what
pleases me, I think, feeling His hand stroke my belly, then slip with purpose
between my thighs. My breathing becomes shallow, my heartbeat quickens...He has
me again. His has only to look at me, and I'm His. How could He possibly
question my trust? Then, rolling me softly against my stomach He begins to
stroke the rounded softness of my buttocks, caressing them with His palms,
probing between them with his fingertips until I'm wet with anticipation.
I part my thighs, offering him the soft folds beneath, but instead He rises and
crosses to the dresser. Once there, He stirs through the drawer full of "toys",
then returns to the bed. I want to know what He has...I want to ask, but can I?
Should I? Is this the trust He asked me so pointedly about?
Instead I lay silently, raising my body while He positions pillows beneath my
torso, cuffing my wrists behind my back as he's done so many times before.
Finally, satisfied that all is to his liking, He covers my eyes with a strip of
silk, closing off the last rays of the sun from my view, plunging me into a
muted semi-darkness that causes me to shiver deep inside. A ripple cascades
along my skin, and I bite my lip. He wants something different from me this
time... something more. But what?
Spreading wide my legs, He positions himself between them now, His body warm
against my buttocks as He presses against me. I brace myself, expecting to feel
His shaft nudge persistently against my narrow passage, but it doesn't happen.
Not now. Not yet.
Instead, He passes an object into my hands for inspection, licking between my
shivering orbs as I run it through my fingers trying blindly to recognize its
shape. They're balls of some sort. No...beads, five of them, ranging in diameter
from something similar to a marble, to the size of a golf ball. They're made of
something slick and slightly rubbery, like the small, gel balls that I used to
play with as a child. The nylon cord that joins them is strong and sports a
hard, rubber handle at the larger end, designed for control I assume. I've seen
these before...I remember them now. I'd wondered what they were for, but now
their destination is obvious.
I try to relax my muscles as my Captain's taught me to do, to open myself to
this latest titillation, but I'm so tender from last night...this morning...so
sore. He seems to sense this, and slows to help me, running his fingers between
my wet, flowering folds and drawing the slippery moisture up between my
buttocks... stroking... caressing...easing the opening with the tip of his
finger. Then, dipping the five beads into my weeping slit, He removes them and
wedges the smaller two deep into my anus with his thumb. I feel the fullness of
them deep inside me, the remaining beads dangling against my nether lips,
hanging between my thighs.
He slides this appendage to the side now, and I feel His hand touching me once
more, massaging my clit as he patiently probes my wet and gaping slit with his
knob. Slowly He enters me, His size adding to the pressure within as He begins
to move deeper...deeper into my core.
His fingers, so talented, have brought me to the edge once again, and I let my
first sweet climax wash over me like a wave of honey on warm bread. My muscles
contract around Him, and I hear Him moan softly in the early morning silence. He
removes His hand now and coats the next bead, pressing it unerringly behind the
smaller two with a firm thrust of His thumb.
I'm uncomfortable at this point. The sense of fullness has grown, reaching a
capacity that leaves me desperate to hold myself in check as He once more begins
to move inside of me. Again His fingers circle my clit, drawing out my sighs, my
whimpers as yet another climax builds deep in my belly. This time He tells me to
hold it...to let it build until I can't stand it another minute. I nod,
panting...trying to subjugate the maddening urge to shatter beneath His
ministrations. But I hold on...I hold on...
The fourth bead slips into place, but not easily. It's large and cumbersome, and
this time my Captain has had to force it in with the knuckles of his fist.
Between His massive cock which fills me from the front, and the large gel beads
which fill my tender rear orifice, there is no room...no room.
And still He strokes, both inside my quivering core and delicately against my
clit. But now something new has been added. This time he slips a ring of silk
over my head, a scarf, lowering it until it's loosely looped about my neck.
Then, inserting His left hand in such a way that it might be tightened with a
simple twist of His arm, He removes the slack and I feel it close like a choker
about my throat.
I'm tense now, frightened, but still I feel His right hand between my thighs,
touching, probing, driving me toward a climax He's ordered me to hold at bay.
He pauses, His wet fingers slipping back around the last bead, coating
it...forcing it against my tortured ring of muscle...wedging it painfully into
me with the heel of His hand.
I cringe, struggling against my bonds as He tightens the scarf about my throat a
little more, and once again begins to thrust His engorged member inside of me.
There's no room...no room. The sense of fullness is matched only by the
spinning, spiraling lack of oxygen whispering through my constricted larynx.
"Can you feel it, Katherine?' He rasps, His voice shrouded in passion. "Can you
feel it? Do you want to scream when I move...do you want to cum?"
He plunges again and I feel my body groan under the impact, and yet His right
hand continues to circle...drawing me out...pushing me weeping toward the climax
that has built unbearably deep in my womb. I try to moan, to cry out in
frustration, but He tightens the silken noose again, and once more I hear the
pounding of my own heart thundering in my ears.
He's ready to come now, I can tell by the eager thrusts of His hips in my
stuffed and tortured belly, and the low guttural sound of his voice.
And then He fills me, his thick, viscous offering shooting like liquid fire into
my core, gushing around His cock, dripping between my knees as He lunges
repeatedly into my struggling form. I gasp, the tiny puff of air barely finding
its way into my body now, and finally He tells me what I've been waiting to
hear.
"Let it go now, Katherine...let it go..."
And I do.
Immediately He releases the scarf, my mouth opening in a wordless cry as one
wave after another crashes down upon me. Then. tugging slowly, my lover grabs
the handle on the anal beads and sensually liberates them one by one from my
body until my muscles contract and expand in confused spasms before Him.
I gasp, the chill vibrant air filling my lungs like sweet ambrosia...the taste
of life surging through me with euphoric abandon. I have never felt so
alive...so aware. I can never go back to what I was...never.
I know then, all that I have is His.
Everything.
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