SSC '04 "Honeybuns" [first/last]
By Rhosymedre
500 words
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NC-17; to be read by legal adults only please.
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Honeybuns


I like to watch.

No. I live to watch. Her. Climaxing like no tomorrow.

I love returning home late, to our bed. To her naked,
sleeping body.

I peel away blankets and roll her on her back. She 
typically remains unconscious, even as I tempt fate
by rearranging limbs here, orifices there, before the
main onslaught.

Then I begin stroking her nipples, and she slumbers no more.
I tease them into tiny, turgid fists. I ride them onto a
razor's edge of ache. My fingers work her peaks with the
honed patience of a sensual torturer. My lips join in,
curling hotly around the rigid, raw pap. I suck and teethe
the helpless nubs.

I've bound her hands to her thighs with soft Japanese rope
so they can't interfere. Her mouth can't beg through the
unique gag keeping her comfortable and open; she emits
guttural animal sounds but words are beyond her.

I know my attentions to her nipples feed directly to her
womb, her vagina, her clitoris. Briefly I permit her
to gyrate her pelvis and clench her buns as the ache
sharpens...to heighten the invasion of the slender probe
already up her ass. I don't touch her soaked cunt yet.
Soon I'll shoehorn two fingers between her lightly furred
nether lips and snugly scissor her erect and straining
clit, squeezing rhythmically. I'll whisper to her to pull
her abdominal muscles tight and to mentally scoot the
burning clit itch eating at her up her love channel into
her uterus... to explode it in a fit of passion!

Not yet though.

I turn my Honeybuns on her tummy, one hand spread under her,
massaging her belly above her pubic mound. Soothing --
for now. She almost pathologically chafes her still intensely
sensitized breasts against the now sweaty sheets.

My other hand splays on her buttocks, mere centimeters from
her bound wrists and rectal probe. She always tenses, knowing
I don't soothe back there. When she can talk she tells me my
spankings remind her of varnish remover blitzing a piece of
furniture; she always worries my hand will strip off epidermal
layers. I don't deny I crack into her cheeks almost savagely.
She flames as I do. Outside and in.

My massaging hand lowers from her abdomen to her thatch and
below, dipping in the geyser about to gush, two questing
fingers clamping around her clit. My other hand stops
smacking and invades too, lodging two, then three fingers in
her sopping vagina. Holding her so intimately, so vulnerably,
so uncompromisingly forces her to come apart equally
intimately, vulnerably, uncompromisingly.

She soars, and I revel in the watching.

When she floats down, I'll untie her, de-muzzle her, and
tangle with her in our mussed bed. Then she'll take her 
turn driving *me* to the chasm and shoving me over. She
possesses unsurpassed charms and skills as a lover, and
she regales turning them on me full power after I've
ravished her.

Bring it on, Honeybuns! I'm yours, all yours.