Love Bound (34 page)

He wouldn’t last long. There was no
time to lose. I pressed hard on the slippery toy, but his ass was too
resistant. The harder I pushed, the more Lawrence tightened up and whimpered. He
stopped thrusting his hips.

“Relax,” I encouraged my little anal
virgin, smoothing my fingers over his cock-head, pumping hard against it.

I tried again with the toy, but it
wasn’t happening.

“I’m sorry, Audrey. I’m trying, but it
feels like a blunt instrument.”

Had I been a good dominatrix, I would
have forced the prostate pleaser into his ass, hard, and ignored his cries. I
just couldn’t do that to Lawrence. As much pain as he caused me, I could never
hurt the man. I set the toy aside.

With a good dollop of lube on my
finger, I found his curious asshole and tickled it. When I issued only the
slightest pressure, Lawrence’s elastic hole opened up like Ali Baba’s cave.

“Oh, wow!” Lawrence gushed as I
stroked his warm insides. “That’s incredible.”

“That’s my finger.”

“Maybe that’s why,” he replied. “It’s
person-to-person.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I
kept on petted his prostate. Lawrence whimpered and whined like an animal. That’s
how I knew he was really getting off—he was usually so quiet. His modest cock
jerked and twitched under my throttlehold. When his thighs began to tremble and
quake, I knew he wasn’t long for the world of the inorgasmic.

Oh, ah, oh! Audrey! Oh, Audrey! Oh,
Audrey!
It was like
seeing my name in lights. Lawrence’s voice honored each consonant, each vowel,
and always
y
. His body tightened up and his ass clamped down against my
finger. He might have sucked it into his body if it hadn’t been attached to my
hand. I could have sworn I felt the come burst up his shaft before it erupted
from his tip in gushing spurts. Covering his cock-head with my palm, I massaged
the hot jizz against his straining rod.

“That was the most incredible…” Lawrence began. I waited to see if he was going to finish the thought, but no. Lawrence just collapsed on the couch, whimpered even more pathetically than when I’d
whipped him. I untied his hands, but he remained draped over the sofa back.

Sitting down beside my Lawrence, I smoothed my hand over his rosy cheeks, along his side and his back. The first
few soft touches generated tremors and spasms, but the more I petted his skin,
the calmer he became. A despairing feeling weighed on my heart. This was the
part I hated. “You have to go, don’t you?” I asked him.

Turning his head, he cast a heavy gaze
upon me. Lawrence’s eyes were sky blue when he was happy, overcast when he was
sad. At that moment, they were cloudy with a chance of rain. He nodded.

“But you wish you could stay?” I
asked, eager for a compliment.

“I don’t know,” Lawrence replied,
scrunching his nose. “If you spank me and whip me and stick things up my butt
while I’m awake, what would you do to me in my sleep?”

Though I wanted to, I couldn’t bring
myself to laugh. “And you’re going home, right? You’re not going to spend the
weekend with some other girl?”

“Audrey,” Lawrence said, wrapping me
in the warmth of his arms, “there’s no one else but you.”

I cackled wryly. “Give me a break, Lawrence. You have a wife! How could I…?”

“Audrey,” he interrupted me. “There’s
no one else but you.”

Perhaps stupidly, I believed him.

About Giselle Renarde

Eroticist, environmentalist and
pastry enthusiast Giselle Renarde is a proud Canadian and a great lover of the
vast forests of the Great White North. For Giselle, a perfect day involves
watching a snowstorm rage outside with a cup of tea in one hand and a chocolate
truffle in the other. Ms Renarde lives across from a park with two bilingual
cats who sleep on her head.

Giselle Renarde has contributed
short stories to numerous anthologies, including Tasting Her: Oral Sex Stories
(Cleis Press), Love Bites (Torquere Press), Coming Together: With Pride, and
Coming Together: Out Loud (Phaze). Online, Giselle has contributed erotic
content to such websites as For The Girls and Hips and Curves, and editorial
content to Lucrezia Magazine.

Cornflower

By Bekki Lynn

Chapter 1

Eryn eyed the rustic log cabin nestled
in the forest at the end of the gravel road. The sight of its welcome aura both
relaxed and filled her with anticipation. Purchasing the place was the best
thing they could have done for them. No neighbors to worry about; no one to
call the police, because they were too noisy; no one to pound on the door at
the most inopportune time. Her husband squeezed her hand.

“I feel the tension slipping from you
already,” Max commented.

“I’ve begged for Friday evening to
come all week.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “You’d be home, we’d be here
and the weekend would be ours without interruption.”

“Our piece of heaven.” He parked the
jeep and tipped her face up. “I’ve missed you.”

She rubbed his crotch. “I saw how much
when I picked you up at the airport.”

His lips brushed hers, “I want you in
the worst way,” he mumbled against her mouth. “Naked.” He bit her upper lip.
“Wet.” She moaned as he ran his tongue across her bottom lip. “Have you riding
my cock like a marionette.”

Eryn sagged against him, caressing the
side of his face. Her heart accelerated. “Please, take me now, before we cross
the threshold.”

His hand found her breast, molding and
pinching the tip pointing through the thin material of her blouse. She moved it
downward into the junction of her thighs and moved into it. He rubbed her and
spasms trickled up through her belly.

“I have a present for you,” he
informed her as he unbuttoned her Capri’s.

Her breath hitched and she grinned.
“You
and
a present.” He slipped inside her pants and she spread her
thighs wider. His wrist rubbed her swollen clit while he slipped into wetness
and probed her tunnel, feeding her need to come. Gripping his upper arm, she
moaned and slid down in the seat to take more of him. She urged him with her
body and pushed his hand yet he avoided the sweet spot. He pulled his hand out.

“Oh, come on, don’t tease me like
this,” she complained with a half-hearted tone.

“You love it and you know it.” He gave
her a quick kiss. “Let’s unload so you can see what I brought you.”

“That was the intention, but—”

He laughed a husky, deep-throated
sound and climbed from the jeep.

She laid her head on the back of the
seat, rubbing herself through the linen though she knew it wouldn’t help. All
she’d wanted was to knock the ache back and he did nothing but add fuel to the
fire.

“Come on, Eryn,” Max said, chuckling
as he headed toward the cabin with a box of supplies and arm full of luggage.

After a long exhale, Eryn got out and
grabbed the last box and followed him inside. It was like being home, and every
weekend it was their home. She set the box on the table and turned on lights.
While putting things away, she waited for him to specify if he wanted dinner
now or later. Often he wanted to play first, work up a ravenous appetite for
something other than her. When Max came from the bedroom without a shirt, she
had her answer. Excited, she hurried to unpack for them. She wanted action.

She returned to the living room and walked
over to where Max kneeled in front of the fireplace. Eryn watched the toned
muscles ripple and flex as he put a log on the fire. It stirred the fiery
embers smoldering within her. Without thinking of the consequences, she ran a
hand along his shoulder blade. The warm flesh sent tingles up the nerve endings
of her arm.

How could a week apart be like this
after twelve years of marriage? He rose and turned toward her, his eyes intense
and ready for action. Her body squirmed from the inside out in anticipation.

Max caressed her face, ran a thumb
over her lips. “Maybe we should have dinner first.”

Please, no! Not after being without you
all week.
Eryn’s
breathing halted for several seconds as she fought not to frown and show her
disappointment. He was, after all, the master and she must do what pleases him.
It was the rule once they stepped over the threshold of the cabin, and until
they jumped into the jeep to head home.

He grinned at her. “Good, love,” he
told her while fingering her day collar of sterling silver rope. “You’ll be my
dinner tonight.” Reaching down to the coffee table, he picked up a case she
hadn’t noticed. He held it toward her, opening the lid. She gasped. “Oh, my
god!” Her eyes watered as she stared at the matching slave anklet of her necklace.
She’d done nothing but drool over a photo of it since it came out last month,
but she’d never shown it to him. Never would have asked him to pay the price
when she already had the necklace to symbolize their relationship. God, what a
love he was. “Thank you, master.”

“You’ve earned it.”

“It will look wonderful with sandals,
master.” She watched him kneel and lock it around her ankle.

“Love, I want you to wait at the
trees, unclothed.”

“Yes, master.” Eryn, smiling, left the
cabin and went to stand between two oak trees where she stripped out of her clothes,
folding them neatly before setting them on a covered rain barrel. She stood
with her arms at her side, her chin turned up to the sky. Patches of blue sky
showed through maple leaves high above her. The span of freedom she felt was
only here. The snap of twigs alerted her she wasn’t alone.

“Arms up! Max ordered.

Obediently, she put her arms in the
air, allowing him to shackle her wrists with fur lined leather straps.

“Going up,” he announced as he raised
her from the ground with ropes on a pulley system he devised. The swift rush
was much like a Ferris Wheel when they moved you along to allow others on and
off. He tied it off on a hook and proceeded to strap her ankles, spreading her legs
wide. “Status?” he ordered, his voice rougher than before.

“Rosy, master.” She’d tried to sound
meek and a bit fearful, but it didn’t work. This part of their play was her
idea and she loved it each time they used it. It’d taken him a bit over a half
year before he relaxed and gave it all to her.

She heard his footsteps retreat and it
didn’t bother her to be left vulnerable to the wild. Closing her eyes, she
recited her favorite poem;
How I Love Thee, Let Me Count The Ways
.

A swat on her ass startled her. She
hadn’t heard him return.

“That was for touching me without
permission.”

She bit back a chuckle. At times she
deliberately disobeyed rules because she loved the way he punished her. Hands
skimmed up her legs and teeth grazed her tingling cheeks. How she wished she
could wiggle her ass to taunt him?

Chapter 2

“Might as well skip to dessert,” he
whispered. He spread her cheeks and rimmed her anus with his tongue. She moaned
and tried to push back against him. He held her still as his tongue circled and
probed. “Feels good, master.”

He swatted her right cheek with his
hand. “Silence!”

Oh, yes!
Biting down on her tongue, she fought
down the pleasure sounds as he lubed her hole and inserted a finger. He moved
it side-to-side before thrusting in and out. Her muscles flexed, aching to move
with him. His tongue ran up her flesh as another finger entered her.
Sweet
heaven!
She bucked. He fucked her slow and steady. Heat swarmed through her
and perspiration beaded on her back. Her clit ached and she wanted to beg him
to touch it when her belly jumped as she clenched his fingers with a sudden
orgasm. “Oh, master,” she let slip. He smacked her again, harder.

Another finger gave her fullness
similar to his cock. The sensations shot through her she let her head fall back
against the air. She attempted to grasp the leather strap so she could give
herself leverage to thrust with him, but her sweaty palms caused them to slip.

With his other hand, he ran his
fingers through her drenched pussy, rubbing the swollen, bare flesh. She pressed
her teeth together until they hurt. His thumb entered her tunnel, but didn’t
move while he found her nub with his fingers and circled the sensitive tip.

“Oh, fuck yeah!” she screamed.

Max moved away from her so fast, she
groaned. He hit her cheeks hard enough to make her wince. Did it again, and
after five hard smacks he stopped.

“Status?”

“Rosy, master.”

“You want more, love?”

“Please, master.”

“Twenty. Count.” He hit dead center
catching both cheeks and she counted out until they reached twenty.

“Status, love.”

“Rosy, master.”

She heard the zipper of his jeans and
knew he was undressing. It excited her. She loved fucking him outdoors. No one
lived near enough to hear them or see them.