Ashley must have detected the small movement, because she shifted slightly and whispered, “Good morning, Baby.”
In an attempt to conceal my fear, I feigned a slow re-entry into consciousness. “Mmm… Good morning, Ashley.” She appeared to buy into it, because she didn’t speak again, and I was silently relieved. A moment later, however, her hand found my utterly stiffened member, and squeezed it gently. I involuntarily gasped, and the gesture apparently encouraged her.
She released me only to run her fingertips up and down my spear, slowly exploring every wrinkle, every vein, every slightest ridge on my manhood. She continued this for a short time before shifting her attention to my already tightening sack, keeping her thumb hooked on my shaft. She caressed it gently and evenly, without putting any undue pressure on the thing. Perhaps she was trying to wake me slowly.
That idea disappeared quickly as Ashley disappeared beneath the sheet. She shifted down, positioning herself between my legs. I felt her place a hands on the bed on each side of my waist, apparently holding her face over my sex. I felt her breath an instant before she placed a long, slow kiss on the underside of my manhood near its base. She ended the kiss, only to begin another a short distance higher on the shaft. She repeated again and again until she was kissing the head. Then her lips withdrew, and I prayed that she would stop.
She licked the thing from base to tip. When she reached the tip, she opened her mouth and captured the end inside. She used her mouth to pull me vertical before starting to run her tongue in circles around the head of my sex. Everything she was doing was slow and deliberate. Her tongue came to rest on the underside of my shaft and she sucked softly. Then, as she continued to suck, she gradually engulfed the length of my manhood until her lips reached the hilt, and I shuddered. She just held me there for several seconds before withdrawing to the end, her suction increased immensely. When she reached the end, she paused, then withdrew completely with a loud, singular slurping noise.
I felt her begin sliding back up the length of my body, and when she straddled me, I knew what was coming next. I felt her face above my own, and decided to open my eyes. It took a few attempts, and when my lids finally parted, I found myself eye to eye with her. I’d forgotten how intense she could be. She gazed into my depths. She was not smiling now, and my heart was trying to pound through my ribcage like a jackhammer through concrete. She was serious, her intentions clear. This mattered to her, and I was afraid.
I wanted to stop her. I wanted to say, “No.” I wanted to tell her that this could not continue. I tried to say it with my eyes, but she did not see it. Or she didn’t accept it.
She moved backward, her pelvis tight on my belly, until she reached me. I could feel her heat, her wetness, even before her sex touched my own, and I didn’t want her to stop anymore. She backed onto me effortlessly, still slow and deliberate, and in one, fluid motion, I was all the way in. I knew I would not last long.
“Please go slow,” I begged her.
She just looked at me blankly and said, “I know.”
With that she lifted herself upright, taking the sheet with her, and she was suddenly ablaze in the harsh sunlight as the sheet fell behind her. She blinded me, but I couldn’t look away from her perfection. She was like some kind of torrid fairy tale. Now, in this light, she was so much more beautiful than I’d been privileged to see before. The moonlight had simply not done her justice. I was breathless in her brilliance, and still, she did not smile.
She stared a hole through me, singular in purpose, and started rocking. She was impossibly slick, just as she had been the night before, and I summoned every last bit of willpower, praying to a god I did not believe in for endurance.
She was rocking simply on me, back and forth, her hands resting on her hips. She was hypnotic as her rhythm seared into my soul. I just lay there, a willing subject as I felt the walls of her sex begin some type of milking contractions on my manhood. It felt as if her core was trying to suck the cream from me.
“Please, be easy.” I was begging her.
Instead, she said simply, “Time to come.”
Without warning, I erupted into her, and finally she smiled as my eyes closed. I erupted into her not just my sex, but my spirit, and my mind, and everything else. The flood was beginning now, both inside her and also in my mind, and I craved it. I called out loudly to her, my guttural utterance of her name signifying my surrender. I wasn’t shaking, I simply stiffened, thrusting myself into her as far as I could, and filled her with the bounty she’d worked for. I gave it to her freely, even as she ripped it from me, my fists closed tightly around the sheets, my teeth clenched.
Then, as quickly as it had started, it ended. I fell limp on the bed, and I could feel the muscles of her sex continuing to suck me, even as I softened.
I continued to lay there as she remained impaled on my rapidly deflating manhood. I was fighting the urge to cry. And to laugh.
I heard her in the distance. “Dean? Dean, Sweetie? Can you hear me?”
“I’m here,” without opening my eyes.
“Just checking. You’re beautiful.” I felt her hands on my stomach.
I reached up and took her hands in mine.
“Look at me, Dean.” When I didn’t respond, more forcefully, “Open your eyes and look at me.”
I complied. She was smiling at me now, comforting and assuring. “You’re beautiful, Dean.”
I smiled back at her, and I felt like a child. A child who was being brutally and efficiently broken psychologically by the sexual games of a sixteen-year-old girl.
She spoke, “So, what’s for breakfast?”
XII. “Mmm… Bagels?”
Ashley’s eyes widened. “Oo, bagels. I love bagels.” She gingerly leapt from me and the bed to land firmly on the floor in one motion, dripping my fluids from her sex the whole trip. When she came to rest on the floor, she apparently felt me spilling from her, so she squatted low to the floor, her legs spread wide. She reached inside herself with her right middle and ring fingers, and unceremoniously scooped out as much as she could. She looked at her hand contemplatively, then brought it to me, smiled, and said, “Here you go.”
It wasn’t the fact that she was suggesting I suck my own cum from her hand that shocked me. I’d been fed my own juices before, as well as sucked the juices from other men. What really got to me was that the domme who was feeding me my own cum had been a high school cheerleader fifteen seconds before.
I slurped eagerly, licking her clean. She spotted several drops which had landed on me, and she happily licked it up as if she were licking traces of pudding from an empty dessert plate. Then, almost as an afterthought, she worked up a bit of saliva, and took my softened manhood into her mouth. She sucked hard on it a few times, like she was trying somehow to mix her saliva with the drying cum on my cock, then sucked hard one last time as she pulled herself off me. Then, holding me up with her hand, she licked thoroughly around the base before releasing me and standing upright again with that signature bubbling smile.