Magic Words

Russ lay on his back, spread-eagled with his arms and legs tied to the posts of the fine canopied bed. His long red hard was loose around his neck and the soft flame-colored strands matched those revealed by his lack of clothing. I stared at him from a doorway out of his field of vision and lusted, as I always have. I wanted to violate him, take the virginity he didn't want to give, force him to be unfaithful to the girl he didn't really want for more than a short time. I wanted to give him the pleasure he didn't want to accept. This was probably my only chance, while he was helpless. Unfortunately, I have a conscience and I might wimp out/be nice.

I stepped forward to where he could see me. He asked what was going on. I told him that I wanted to make love to him so badly I would risk this. Why couldn't he agree and make it easy on both of us? I sat down by him and started to caress him lightly. He squirmed; he's ticklish.

I don't know why he's so scared. He's turned down offers, not just mine, and not because of religious reasons or any belief that it's better to be a virgin at marriage. He has a sex drive (I've watched during screenings of porn movies in his room; he was aroused. So it just seems like he's scared of sex. I want to help, I want to prove how lovely it can be, and I want to satisfy this urge in me that won't go away!

I kiss him, my tongue probing his mouth. I finger his nipples, hard little nubs bared to the air. I caress his thighs, the crack of his ass and his cheeks. I undress myself. I kiss and lick his nipples, his earlobes, his neck. I climb on top of him and rub my crotch against his hardening cock. He never says no, or yes either.

My head resting on his thigh, breath warming his balls, I ask. I've been hearing his moans, but never a word. Does he think he isn't responsible if he doesn't say anything? His sounds and his movements and even his breathing have been pushing me onward. I don't want to stop giving him this beautiful pleasure, which is pleasure for me too. I ask, demand that he tell me whether he is truly part of this or just finds it useless to fight.

One word. "Please." And a push of his hips so that his balls meet my lips. "Please" could mean something else, but not the motion. I lick his balls, his shaft, take him into my mouth. He moans many times louder than before and thrusts forward to fuck my mouth. I keep sliding up and down his shaft until the cries get louder and and the thrusts harder. Then I let go. He looks up in shock until I maneuver my own dripping cunt above his cock and slide down onto him as slowly as I possibly can. I rock back and forth, pressing his balls into the crack of my ass, keeping him in ecstasy. And myself. I wiggle myself around the stiff shaft inside me and then start to come, squeezing him and sliding up and down until he can't stand it anymore and starts slamming against me, each thrust shooting more of his come into my cunt. I don't want to let go of him, so I lean forward and undo the bonds on his wrists, then stretch backward for his ankles, making him shudder in post-orgasm sensitivity at the movement around his cock. Then I lean forward and kiss him again. He puts his arms around me and whispers, "Thank you."

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