Thank you to those who have read Part 1 and have written such kind things. Thank you, also, for your patience with me.
A delicious, beautiful obsession.
Their schedules were not meshing as she’d hoped, but the anticipation was intoxicating. Between their houses was 15 feet of grass from her back yard to the neighborhood walking path, about 6 feet of asphalt, then approximately 75 feet down the path to their yard and another 20 feet to his back door. Occasionally, when she was in the yard with her kids during the day, she could see his wife Cindy out in their yard with her kids. They would wave to each other and smile. She knew she should feel guilty or ashamed about what she did with him, and for what she intended to do again, but she didn’t. Both she and he knew that, if they had to, they could end it and go back to the way things had been. This, whatever this was, would be a delicious, beautiful memory.
It had been two weeks since he had come to her at her house, two weeks since she had kneeled on her clean, linoleum floor, naked, his large hard cupping the back of her head, his fingers sliding in and out of her throat – forcefully, then gently; excruciatingly slowly, then so fast that it triggered her gag reflex with only a few pumps. She wanted his cock in her mouth, in her throat, but she knew she had to prove herself, first. When she was able to get a few moments to herself throughout the day, she would go into the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror. She would take three fingers and push them into her throat, working her swallowing reflex so that she could withstand harder and longer pumping.
She also knew that she should be ashamed or guilty about the way she was choosing to define herself. The truth of the matter was that she felt like she was becoming a better person. Viewing herself like this made her hyper-attentive to the needs of those she loved and cared about: her husband, her children, friends. She didn’t mind giving of herself, and she also found it much easier to communicate when she needed time to herself. Overall, this new journey was a positive thing.
The morning had arrived. She was off work. He was off work. Her husband and his wife happened to be traveling at the same time.
It was some kind of Divine Kink Providence!
Anticipation had been building for the better part of the week via text message. They kept their conversations sparse, for obvious reasons.
He: Off Tuesday. Work travel. 8:30AM?
She: Off Tuesday. WORK TRAVEL. (-: please?
He: I will come for you, then.
They deleted the conversation and spent the rest of the week and weekend floating on anticipation, living the lives of suburban spouses and parents.
She woke at 5:30AM, got her husband out the door to catch his plane, herded the children through their morning routine, including organizing a ride from school to their gymnastics class. When she stepped out of the shower, she looked at her phone to check the time: 8:03. She wondered if she should bother getting dressed, and smiled lasciviously. Then, as if he had been reading her mind, he messaged her: I would like to spend time with you in your basement today. Do you mind leaving your front door unlocked, so that I can let myself in?
She responded: I don’t mind at all.
He: Good. I will make sure to lock it behind me.
I will be there at 8:30 sharp. I want you completely naked for me, on your knees, hands behind your back, facing the stairs, when I arrive.
She: Yes, Sir. See you soon.
She blow-dried her hair, put on her robe, and made her way to the basement. It was a large, carpeted area, finished, with a wet bar and a giant, flat-screen television. Common and comfortable.
The carpet was surprisingly soft on her knees, the cool basement air stimulated her nipples. The front door opened, closed, locked… Silence. She looked at her phone just as it turned from 8:29 to 8:30. Footsteps.
“Thank you for following my directions so closely.” He put his hand on her head as he moved past her to pick up her robe off the floor. He then folded it and placed it gently on the arm of the couch.
She glanced up at him as he was performing this task. He wore blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and black work boots. He moved comfortably, as if he were used to being watched -admired, with confidence and humility. He turned toward her, and she lowered her eyes.
She could feel his eyes on her and set her shoulders back, straightened her back, and presented her full breasts to him.
“Mmmmmmm. I’m so happy that you are proud of your body. And, that you want to share yourself with me.”
She straightened even more. “You know. I haven’t thought about it much, but I AM proud of my body. Of course, there are times when I am happier with myself than others, but overall, yes. I am happy. And, you’re welcome. Your happiness makes me happy.” She snuck a glance up at him and caught his eye. For a split second, she worried that he might mistake her confidence for sass, but, then again, her mind (and body) squirmed with the thought of how he might punish her. This might be a misunderstanding that she could live with.
He walked behind her and kneeled so that one of his knees was between her legs and he was pressed against her backside. He moved her hair from her shoulders on both sides, softly kissed her neck, then slid his hands down to her hips, around to her stomach, up to her breasts, taking them firmly in each of his big hands. “It has been too long since we had last been together. How do you feel about that much time going between our sessions?”
Squirming at his touch, she let a sigh escape and pushed be ass into him. He squeezed her breasts and took each nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“I am not a very patient girl, as I have already demonstrated.” She leaned into him playfully and reached behind to touch his leg. “So, it has been difficult for me to wait for this opportunity. But, you and I both have jobs to do, we have families, and as much as I want this to be a part of my life, we both have other priorities. So, I will have to work on my patience.”
With her breasts still held firmly in his hands, he applied pressure to her nipples, causing her to gasp a tiny, adorable squeak. “Ah, you sound like a naughty little mouse.” This observation made her smile. “Thank you for your candor, and thank you for sharing your beautiful body with me.” He squeezed her nipples again, acknowledging her gentle-sass reminder from before, eliciting another squeak; however, this one traveled more into moan territory.
“Mmmmm, you are very perceptive, Sir. I like to be reminded that I am appreciated.”
“Noted, little mouse.” He slid his hands down her stomach and separated her labia with his fingers. She was wet and warm for him. “I feel I am appreciated as well.” He pushed two fingers deep inside her, leaving them in, moving them in small, slow circles so that they were coated with her wetness. Then, he trailed the fingertips up between her breasts and pushed his pussy-soaked fingers into her mouth.
She sucked his fingers dutifully, swirling her tongue around while she slightly bobbed her head. “I believe I have made it quite clear that you are appreciated, Sir.”
He stood up walked back around her kneeling form until he was again facing her. “Look up at me and open your mouth.”
She complied.
“Present your tongue for me.”
She complied.
“It appears you have a very talented tongue.”
“Thank you, S…”
“Please… Do not interrupt me.”
She mumbled an apology, closed her mouth, and lowered her eye.
He gently placed his hand on her head. “Please remain as instructed.” He paused to allow her to once again open her mouth and present her tongue for him. “Good girl. No need to apologize. We are still learning each other. We will develop a cadence, and you will soon understand when you are expected, or given permission, to speak. I, too, will learn how to better non-verbally communicate with you. Until then, I will need you to trust me and be more focused on doing what you are told. Can you do that for me, little mouse? Please nod and look me in the eye if you are willing to comply.” He lifted his hand off of the top of her head.
Keeping her mouth open, she nodded and made brief eye-contact with him. It was then she had realized, that how she felt about things up until this second did not matter. He owned her. His eyes relayed compassion, mischief, and power. She wanted to be seen by him; she wanted to be touched by him; she wanted his mouth.
“Good girl,” he affirmed, and he smiled. “Are you ready to continue your training, little mouse?”
She felt her face flush, wondering if the lust burning in her face translated through the windows of her eyes. She nodded slowly, holding her Sir’s gaze.
“What do you hope to accomplish through this training? You may use your voice to answer, little mouse.”
With a rush of confidence, she answered, “I will become the best mouth you’ve ever owned, Sir. I will become your favorite cocksucker.” She let the words hang in silence for one, maybe, two seconds, reveling in having momentarily upset his apple cart of self-assurance. She then opened her mouth and presented him her tongue.
He grinned, stroking his beard, and narrowed his eyes. “That, my dawlin’, is a lovely answer,” he growled and slid two fingers into her mouth, which she sucked greedily, working her tongue around the tips of his fingers. He moaned lustily, grasped the back of her head with his other hand, and worked two more fingers into her mouth, bulging her cheeks and causing her eyes to water. “Hold my gaze, little mouse.”
Just as she complied, he began to finger fuck her throat, working at a slow rhythm and pushing deeper with each stroke. Soft sounds of her struggle filled the basement – the wet clicking of his fingers filling her mouth and opening her throat, the muffled, breathy moans as he hand fucked her mouth. She could feel her excitement dripping down the inside of her thighs, and she moaned again into the intense pumping of his hand. She took a deep breath through her nose as he held his fingers inside her throat, his other hand holding her head in place like a vice. Tears streamed down her face; the heat of the lust and her body’s struggle for oxygen burned against her skin. She gagged as he withdrew his hand, and produced a sound that didn’t seem to come from her. It was primitive, animalistic, somewhere between instinctive survival and pure lust.
“Whether you believe you are ready or not, you are taking my cock down your throat, filthy girl.” He removed his t-shirt, unbuckled his belt, and in one fluid movement yanked it through the belt loops of his jeans with the SNAP of a bullwhip. He folded his shirt, coiled his belt around his hand, and laid them gently on top of her clothing.
She found this trait deeply attractive, his attention to discarded clothing, restoring it to some order. In addition, she found his arranging his clothing atop hers disarmingly sweet and intimate.
“May I have permission to speak, Sir?”
“Yes, little mouse. Thank you for asking.” He stood near the couch, his thumbs hitched in the belt loops of his jeans, waiting for her to speak.
She took a moment to choose her words, taking in her shirtless Sir. He was broad chested, somewhat toned, with thick salt and pepper hair forming a well-defined happy trail to the waistband of his jeans.
“May I have a moment to touch you? Just a moment? I will then put my hands behind my back and serve you. I just really, really want to touch you. May I? Please?” She gave him a sincere, mildly pleading smile.
He approached her and stopped directly in front of her, and looked down at her. He grinned and raised his arms over his head, linked his fingers, and rested his hands behind his head. Still grinning, he raised his eyebrows and nodded to her, as if to say, “Since you’ve requested so politely, have at it.”
She smiled triumphantly and ran the fingers of both hands through the hair on his chest, lightly trailing her fingernails down his stomach and stopping at the button of his jeans. She watched his face register the pleasure of her touch: his eyes closing, his mischievous grin softening, his stomach rising and falling quicker, now. She repeated the movement, pausing to circle his nipples lightly with her fingertips before raking his stomach with her fingernails. She did that again, and again, and again, and each time he fell deeper and deeper into her touch.
Then, she paused at the button of his jeans. Looking up into his eyes, she unfastened the button and unzipped his jeans. After removing his jeans, she methodically folded them, all the while holding his gaze, and handed them to him. He smiled and placed them on top of their commingled clothing pile. His cock was straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs, and there was a small stain from his pre cum. She looked at him and pulled the underwear down, causing his erection to spring and bounce in her face. She folded his boxer briefs and handed them to him, then she ran her fingernails lightly from the shaft of his hard cock to the head. A small bead of pre cum formed at the hole, and she kissed the head of his cock gently and licked the bead off with the very tip of her tongue. She looked back up at him, smiled lustily, opened her mouth, presented her tongue, and obediently clasped her wrist with her hand behind her back.
He moaned softly and whispered, “You are exquisite. When I cum, and it won’t take long today, I want you to swallow. Can you do that for me, little mouse?”
She nodded and took a deep breath.
“Good girl.”
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/7gk9ls/neighbor_sir_part_2_bdsm_mdom_fsub