“Sugar?,” You shout from the kitchen.
“I’ll take two,” I shout back while undressing.
“Oh yes you will,” you holler back, a dangerous smirk in your voice.
I gulp, feeling the sharp pain that flares when I do so, wondering what you have in store for me.
… PART 2
I’m suddenly anxious in a thrilled way. I rarely know what your devious mind is up to. You’re always so calculated and deliberate, yet immediately adaptable. It’s impossible to know if you spend hours piecing together your plans or if you just come up with them instantly. Surely you couldn’t have planned this evening’s events to play out this way. Or maybe you always prepare for all scenarios. Maybe you would have celebratorily fucked me when I got home if I had had great news from work instead?
There’s no telling with you. It drives me crazy; your exhilarating ways. I’ve hurried out of my work attire– my heels, my black pencil skirt, my silky ivory blouse, my nude bra. I’ve left the one piece you told me to keep on, my panties. They cling to my lips from my excitement. I swallow hard thinking about it, and my throat aches tremendously from the fucking you just gave it.
Every single swallow for the next few days will be a reminder of you. Of your shaft exploring deep parts of me. I sit in the reading chair in the corner replaying it over in my mind.
A minute or so has passed and I snap out of my lusty, inattentive daydream hearing your footsteps and the sound of a metal spoon on ceramic approaching the bedroom.
I stand up quickly as you enter. “Sit back down, princess,” you say bringing the tea to me. I do and you smile handing the hot mug over to me.
“Thank you,” I say, with an appreciative smile, my voice still raw. I stir the spoon around before gripping it to the edge of the cup and bringing it to my lips. The steam hits my face and I cautiously take a sip. It’s not too scalding, it won’t burn. The hot liquid feels so good on my sore throat. I drink more deeply, enjoying the incredibly soothing feeling and the calming bergamot and lavender aroma it gives off. Earl grey will never seem dull or dreary to me.
You laugh in your throat; observing me as I drink and ask how it is. I’d almost forgotten you’re in the room, though you’re standing right in front of me– totally lost in the calming cup of tea and the way it momentarily dulled my poor throat. Savoring it.
My hands bring the half-full cup to my lap, “It feels so good,” I say sheepishly. “You want a sip?,” I add.
“No, thank you,” you grin. “I have something else in mind,” you say devilishly.
I accidentally swallow the sip in my mouth audibly. “And what’s that?,” I play along.
“Finish up so you can find out,” you say smugly. I want to take both an eternity and a millisecond to empty the cup of its lovely remedy.
I eagerly finish and show you it’s empty. You take it from me and set it on the dresser.
“Atta girl,” you say pulling me up from the comfy chair and into your embrace. I hug onto you tightly, my frenzied and all but naked body juxtaposed against your clothed, calm self.
I feel the weight of the day come crashing back. Work, the presentation, the relaxed laughs of the old men I work for as they shrugged my proposal off as unnecessary.
I exhale through my mouth slowly, my lips against your chest a few inches beneath your clavicle. You notice and react.
You kiss the top of my head, and firmly grip my upper arms to push me back half an arm’s length away. You study my face briefly.
You don’t offer me an out, you know I know the words if I want or need it. Instead, you push me back into the cozy reading chair. It’s sturdy and firm, but the tufted fabric it’s covered in is comfortable. I fall into it smirking, wondering what you’re up to.
You force my legs apart as wide as the width of the seat will allow and kneel between them. “Lie back,” you say, putting your arms under my ass pulling my lower half upwards so I’m tilted back. I gasp, you’ve angled me so that my pussy is served up to you. My black panties don’t easily give away how wet I am beneath, but you felt me up in the kitchen 10 minutes ago, so I know you know.
“You’re drippy from that throat fucking, princess,” you say forever reading my mind. You kiss me over the cotton fabric, just hardly above my clit.
I moan an “mhmm” as a response and squirm slightly, but you’ve got me positioned without much leverage.
“No fidgeting,” you snap and return to teasingly kissing my mound. I sit still with a sigh; it’s futile anyway.
You hook a finger into the crotch of my panties and pull them aside. “You’re glistening,” you look up at me with a self-satisfied smile. I blush crimson and throw my head back so I don’t have to meet your eyes. My embarrassment doesn’t stop you from continuing.
“Mm, babygirl gets her throat fucked and this is what it does to her,” you say, dipping your index finger between my slick labia. The movement allows me to hear just how wet I am– entirely soaked.
You drag your finger from the top of my lips all the way to the bottom. You repeat this motion a few times before resting your coated finger against my entrance, and suddenly ceasing all movement. Your stillness is daring me to move, to do something. I am burning to have any part of you inside me. You know it, and you’re taunting me.
I give in with a wordless whine and flex my hips upwards towards your fingertip. It doesn’t cause you to enter me, just adds more pressure against my opening.
“So needy,” you say and kiss just above my clit again.
You’re ever the tease today.
I hate it.
I love it.
I need you inside me; I need the aching, throbbing need in my core to dissipate. I whimper and thrust my pelvis upwards once more hoping this time your lips will hit my clit or your finger will enter me. Wanting either; dying for both.
“Greedy girl,” you react, your voice patronizing as you continue your ministrations. “I said…” you say pausing causing me to look at you, “You’ll take two,” you finish, smirking while meeting my eyes as you roughly shove your pointer and middle fingers into my wet pussy.
An exasperated “Oh fuuuuckkk” leaves my lips and my hips immediately start rapaciously moving to meet your aggressive movements inside me.
You don’t finger me. You finger fuck me; your two fingers massaging my insides in a wickedly intimate way. You find my g-spot and relentlessly assault it. You know I’m not a squirter, but I’ll come all the same if you don’t stop, especially at the rate your pounding into it.
And you do not stop. Within a couple minutes I am peaking.
“Fuck, I – I’m,” I manage to get out between moans.
“I know,” you say, continuing the onslaught, “Come for me.”
I do. I come hard with your fingers inside me, quaking and releasing some of my achey desperation and so much of the day’s tension and stress.
You waste no time pulling my panties off, and before I’ve had much of a chance to recover from my orgasm you place your lips directly over my clit and suck hard.
It’s entirely overwhelming for the first 3-4 seconds, and I’m immediately grateful I didn’t just have a clitoral orgasm. The sensation becomes less intense as I adjust to your lips’ suction. You alternate sucking on and licking my swollen pearl until I am so worked up.
My fingers grip into the arms of the chair tightly, while yours abruptly leave my pussy and pass down along the trail my wetness has made from being angled up in the chair. It runs down to and beyond my asshole.
A slick finger pokes against it. “Too much,” I protest between moans. I’m not sure I can handle stimulation there in addition to the attention your tongue and lips are providing.
“Start with one,” you say unapologetically, breaking away from my clit and slowly forcing your naturally lubed index finder inside me. You suck on my clit for a breathe, then add, “But you’ll take two.”
“Mmm, yes, Sir,” I purr as you probe my ass, stretching it out while eating me out. Everything starts to go out of focus as I stop thinking and begin just processing feeling.
You press and prod my insides, switching up your mouth’s pace on my clit each time I approach climax to edge me back down. Normally I’d whine and protest, but it feels so good I don’t mind delaying the inevitable for awhile.
You curl your finger inside me and devilishly pull it from me while it’s still bent at the knuckle. Forcing my asshole to open wider as you withdraw.
Before I can react to your wicked exit, you plunge it and your middle finger into my tight hole together. I sharply breathe in, my intake becomes a protesting whimper at the sudden fullness and stretch.
“You’ll take it,” you say without sympathy, hardly pausing your flicks across my clit and pressing deeply inside me– Not even looking at me to acknowledge my response; just taking what you want from me.
And it is crystal clear what you want. Your suction is unrelenting and your probing is, too. You want me to cum. You want my insides to quiver tightly around your digits and my clit to spasm against your tastebuds.
I want it too. And it’s not long before I’m teetering at that point. A desperate, needy “Pleeeeeease?,” leaves me.
“Cum,” you say, clamping your lips around my clit and shoving your fingers into me as far as they’ll go and curling them up.
I wouldn’t have been able to hold it off if you denied me. A strong orgasm rips through me so hard; flooding me from the inside out until you mercifully release my clit and the intensity pulses down.
I come back from the blissful high to coherence feeling your fingers leave me moments later.
“You’ve taken two orgasms now,” you say, your lips kissing my inner thigh. “And I don’t know that I’ll allow you a third,” you graze your teeth over my soft flesh. “But I’m not so sure I’m through with these holes now that they’ve been stretched and made so ready for my use,” your tone and the thought of being useful for your pleasure sends my mind deep into a space contained within itself.
I hear myself reply, but it’s mush. No words, just an agreeing, understanding sound is emitted. A small, short “Mm”. I’m acutely aware of the fire in my throat as the tiny noise rumbles my vocal chords.
“That’s my girl,” I hear you say, standing and pulling me up. “Come take two for Daddy one more time,” the phrase is a delicious threat as we move to the bed and you bend me over it.
You open one of the drawers by the bed and rummage through it. I don’t see what you grab; I don’t even try to see, I’m so deep in subspace. But from your context, I know whatever it is will soon be finding a home in my ass or my pussy while you take whichever of the two most suits you now. Either way, I’ll always take two for you.
–
Thoughts??
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/ji5kwh/youll_take_two_part_2_to_youll_take_it_ds_mf