Flashflood

A short piece, originally published on fetlife.

He’s wearing the button down shirt you like, ironed flat and neat because you have a thing for that. Once upon a time, when you were a little girl, Barbie hurled Ken off the edge of the bed and your mother found you stringing them both up by the chewed up feet. Now you hurl him onto the bed, push him back aggressively.

Oh god, oh god. He’s taken your fetish to heart. Clean pressed black slacks are about to get really rumpled and you have him down to socks and boxers faster than peeling a banana. Fuck, you can stroke up an erection through his underwear. You can see the lines in his shoulders when he throws his arms up (hands up! you said to that indulgent 13 year old boy when you were 11, and you had a water pistol on a hot summer’s day). That was a boy, this is a man, with a man’s smell and muscles under the skin and much more potential than shy awkwardness and your first kiss at gunpoint, ten years ago.

You don’t have rope, so he’s tied at the wrists with scarves. You picked them up by the handful at the dollar store, blue and yellow and red, thick enough you won’t hurt him in a lasting hold. They knots aren’t particularly good, but you have more ways to hold a man than technical skills.

Grab his head, bite his neck, then kiss it. He closes his eyes and puts his mouth all soft and vulnerable, into a little pout. God, hurt him, hurt him more so he’ll never stop making that face. Take his dark nipple in your nails and tweak, making him shrink back. Get him on his front on the bed, face down.

Find the pants on the floor and pull his belt out of the loops. He has a good belt, black leather with the brand stamped on the inside. Take the buckle and the tapered, awl punched end in your hand and stroke his raised ass. Pull the cock that’s hanging between his legs, cup the balls and… strike!

Start off nice and gentle, there’s time yet. Don’t get tired, don’t break your toy. Smack, smack, smack. Make the cheeks of his ass turn pink. The first time you did this it was more gentle. He knelt, naked on the floor while you sat mermaid style on the bed, and he begged for you to whip him. You made him bring you the belt and kiss it and your hands, before and after you gave him the first welts of your relationship.

But now you’re horny. Now, now, now, the urgency you hit him with is that coil of lust that spirals from crotch to breasts and the soft insides of your thighs. You’re not in the now, you’re ten seconds ahead, anticipating every blow on his skin before he feels it. You’ve got your hands balled up with excitement, like you were 16 again and sneaking into sex chat rooms, adding an extra two years to your age, lying to men who lied to you in turn about their penises, their capacity and their attractiveness. Those were good lies back then, but now it’s time for truth. The truth is you love it, and you love him.

Oh god, sixty-nine, bringer of bad concentration. You’ve been told you’re not supposed to need and nuzzle his cock this way, but it’s beautiful and the closest you can come to consuming him up entirely. He’s too good though, and you’re bucking and forgetting about his cock, as his lips push and his tongue flickers. You need your mouth to moan, and he forgets his satisfaction for yours, trying so hard to fight the clumsiness of his bound wrists. He says nothing feels better than making you come, and you believe him. He’ll wait, rock hard, until you can’t spasm anymore and you have to take your hips off his face.

It’s not enough, the lust didn’t go away. All slicked up with saliva and your own flooding, you mount him, and you drive your hips to his, over and over again. That’s not enough for you, just to take him inside. You start hitting him, you call him your slut and your whore. You growl and make his face sting from the slaps.

He warns you, and then you know he’s coming. High up inside you, you stay put after he starts, looking as the blush in his face, the dew sweat and the closed eyes. Twenty minutes from now, you’ll be in the shower with him, fighting over soap and the hot stream of water, but for now you’re still and you lie on top of his hard, warm body, feeling the start of his semen seep from you.

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