“Strip for me.” There is much more slack in my voice than I am used to. I am much more asking than telling as I sit on her bed, legs crossed and forcing my eyes to stay open instead of narrow.
She nods but doesn't move, seemingly petrified. “Look at me,” I tell her. She does and we hold each others eyes for a full, terrifying minute of silence. “You knew this was coming. And we have to get you to fight your shyness somehow. This isn't going to be a cure, and there isn't some magical moment where you suddenly realize how amazing you are and all the bashfulness goes away. All we can do is get you to obey, to get you to be naked and as comfortable as possible.”
Trembling, blushing, little shudders kick in. Then she takes the left strap of her nightgown and moves it off her shoulder. She hesitates at with the right. She looks to me and begs without words.
“Turn around,” I say. She does, immediately and then waits. And waits. After another moment she takes off the right strap. She inches the fabric down her body revealing only her back, then the small of it, then her ass and finally thighs. Her clothing hit the ground with a thud a hundred times louder than possible and for a moment were both breathless.
I surveyed her. I took in every line and every part as she shuddered, wrapped arms around herself to hide things I couldn't see. What I could spy, though, was that she was very nearly her limit. I could try and push her, demand something else and have her flat out resist—and somehow manage to pull her back from there into a hopefully salvaged evening. She would, I have no doubt, ultimately bow to experience and authority. But at what expense? For what? How would that help her or serve me?
So I rose. I moved behind her and touched her as gently as I could with the whole of my hands. “I'd like to touch you. May I?” A long moment before she nodded and I could run my hands up over her back, gliding over her arms and shoulder. They swam over her on the places that are lovely to touch but are so often ignored.
“I'd like you to go to the wall and present yourself to me.” When she didn't move I didn't change tone or method. I continued to stroke her like someone dear to me and simply asked again adding, “please.” After a moment she stepped forward, spread her legs and put her hands above her head. She rested her palms against the wall and bent forward.
“You're even more beautiful when you're a gift,” I said as I kissed her left shoulder blade, then her right. My hands wrapped around her trembling hip. They dug into her thighs and danced around her knees and neck and face. I touched every part of her I could think of before I stroked he hair with one hand and played with her breasts with the other. I wanted her to feel how much I wanted her, how wonderful she was right in that moment. Then I gave in to baser instincts and rubbed her breasts with the full of my hands, pulling her nipples towards the earth until she dug in harder against the wall with a groan.
I grabbed the full of her ass with both hands and tried to lift her from the ground.
I sank my teeth into her skin in half dozen places, each time increasing the pressure of the bite over time.
I pulled her hair hard enough that she had to focus and work to keep her face against the unforgiving wall.
I did my very, very best to devour her, then and there. To eat her whole. And when she didn't flinch or cry or change position all I had for her was adoration. She was trying, as hard as she could and better than most given the all-consuming shyness.
My index finger slid up her thigh until I touched the very outside of her lips. She was quite wet and, if she had been anyone else, I would have pushed in right then. To stick my finger inside her and claim her but I wouldn't repeat the mistake I made. Instead I positioned it at the opening of her pussy and moved it back and forth like I was conducting her, playing her. Then I moved my rigid cock against her and moved my mouth to her ear.
“Say that I own you. Say that you're mine.” “I'm yours.”
No stutter and no fleeting concern. She'd come a long way in a short time. I wanted to play a little game of “I could,” where I'd tell her all the things I could do to her to make her affirm that she was mine after doing them. But why bother. I was as much hers as she was mine at this moment and I only wanted to reward her.
No. That's a lie. I wanted to fuck her more than I had wanted to fuck a woman in a very long time. The ability, the closeness without the actual connection was driving me mad. My little patient student was better at waiting for this than I was and her physical limitations were no excuse.
I wrapped my arms around her waist and lift her to the bed where I push her into the mattress and kiss her, long and hard. I continue to move a finger around her clit and she is, without exception, the most reactive and sensitive woman I've ever known. She'd stop kissing just to moan and give an excited scream before digging back into the kiss with renewed hunger. Sweet as she was, she wanted to give me everything.
“Show me how to enter you,” I said, gesturing to the small prescription bottle on the nightstand. “Please don't look.”
I was about to say that there was no shame or harm before she begged me twice more. So I looked away for the longest twenty seconds of the evening. Then she touched my arm and when I turned back to her she kissed me like fire. Like she wanted to suck the oxygen out of my body.
Without prompting she reached out to my cock and began to stroke it, making it slick with a kind of frictionless that I had never known. When covered she started to pump me, faster and faster. “Stop,” I said while seizing her wrist. “That's not how I want to do this.” “Just don't get mad, alright?”
She looked like a virgin on her back, doubting and strained. Wanting but cautions. I moved between her legs and they tightened around me as I pushed the head of my cock just against her. We held the position and I remind her to breath.
I try to push into her as slowly as I can but every time I'm about to thrust forward she clenches and closes her eyes. So I move her hand to the base of me and tell her to guide me in.
It's a full minute before even the head of me is inside her. From there it's a series of small juts, in and out and back in again before I'm even halfway. She instructs me to push and takes her hand away. When I do she cries out, grabs the mattress with fingers like claws and then exhales.
We sit there, in silence. Her face red like she's just run miles and me looking at her full of wonder. As she recovers I find the words escaping my mouth. “You really are a gift, you know?” And I mean everything about it.
I shift forward, put my hands on her hips and find hers on top of mine. We lock eyes and she gives me a nod and like I'm trying to rob a temple I begin to slide out of her again.
She is, thankfully, much less tense. Her hands grab mine and push them into her skin as I slide into her body once more.
This process goes on for far too long. The demons start to arise inside me. Begging me to fuck her fast and hard. To take her screams as trophies knowing all too well that at the end of it, she'd thank me for it. That she'd laughing call herself a painslut and be willing to repeat the process for me next time. “Fuck her,” they say. “Fuck her until you're her world and she's spent of everything.”
So my teeth start to grind and my eyes narrow. I start to grasp her flesh so tightly that she folds her hands into mine.
The first real thrust happens. She cries out. She jolts her head back. But the world doesn't end and it doesn't seem like she's in any kind of agony.
Like a mark I didn't know I was waiting for when off in the distance all the demons come out of me and I rocket back and thrust again.
She makes some inhuman noise as her head swings from left to right and back again. And the last of me is lost as I watch it.
I start to push in and out, my cock barely making it through the tightest grasp it's ever been under. The friction is all at once too much and amazing. It's like being touched in a way that you didn't know could happen. Not just tightness practiced and enjoyed by both parties, but an edge of pain and difficulty for both of us.
To fuck her I had to strain. To fuck me, she had to suffer. It was built into her. Each and every stroke of my cock was an offering. And I greedily took it up.
Within moments I slamming into her with everything I had as her voice became a single, drawn out scream. It only sparked more passion in me as I continued to push with everything I had. I felt the orgasm building, the heat rising. I couldn't contain myself much longer but had to continue to push with everything.
She came without ceremony. Just a spasm that ran through her as her cum came over me.
That reminder was all I needed to pull out of her, prompting nearly as loud a moan as if I had driven back inside. I made me way to sweat-stained face and pushed my cock against it. She reached out, took it despite looking like she had no energy left.
But she didn't need to do anything. That simple action on top of how much I wanted her was enough. I came with a scream and let loose all over her face. She moaned as it happened and then fell into silence.
I looked at her for a moment, exercised and free for the first time since I met her. She continued to shake, just as much as at the start of the evening, but it seemed to be much more pleasant now. She smiled. She tried to croak out something but I told her to save her breath, to recover.
Heavy footfall took me to her kitchen where I poured a glass of water before heading to the bathroom to dab a hand-towel in the sink.
Over her once more, I washed the cum from her face gently, eased her up into a sitting position and handed her the water.
She drank it, tried to murmur something that I didn't understand, so I wrapped an arm around her back and braced myself against her.
For the next few minutes she took small, almost comical sips that seemed to spill as much water down her as get in her throat while I played with her matted, soaking hair. The red retreated from her body and her breath came back.
We kissed for a bit before she asked in the smallest tone if I'd stay, she'd very much like that.
“I'd like that too,” I said as I put the water on the nightstand, took face in my hands and kissed her like a revelation.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/2swy6o/piano_girl_chapter_3_mffucking