Sunday, May 15, 2005

Enough, almost...

She looked up as I took the few steps toward the bed. I wondered if I looked scared. I was. I didn't expect to like this so much. I didn't expect to feel myself lose control like I started to feel myself doing. I can count the number of times I've felt myself slipping away like I was before I excused myself to the bathroom on one hand. And I don't need my thumb to do it.

The time before this one, I was sparring with my martial arts teacher. It was one of the regular Sunday sessions, which meant everyone would be sparring. As the most advanced student in attendance, I got to fight with him. I'm almost a head taller, but he probably has 50 pounds on me at this time, all muscle. We start. I try to keep him away with long kicks, and straight left hand. He of course, is used to this, since he gives up reach to almost everyone he trains with. He cuts under my left hand, and knees me on the side of my left leg. It hurts. I back up, and cover.

I go back to keeping my distance. I can't seem to land anything substantial. He keeps coming in, no longer kicking, but punching me in the face. We're using the big gloves, and it doesn't hurt a lot, but I can't get into a rhythym, and it does hurt a little. Another knee, on the other leg. Great, now they both fucking hurt.

Round over. I try to breathe, and not look as tired as I feel. Three minutes is a long time when someone is trying to knock your fucking head off. The shitty thing is, I know he's not trying. He's playing with me, and I know it, and appreciate that he's doing it, but at the same time, it really, REALLY pisses me off. I vow to do better, and get back in the circle.

I start off pretty well. I'm keeping him away, even if I'm not hurting him, trying to set him up for a roundhouse kick that will clear his arms out of my way so I can finally hit him hard enough in the head that he knows I'm there. A few more jabs, I pull off the kick, and as I step in to turn my hips over and swing with a heavy right hand, he cuts under me and hits right below my solar plexus. He follows this with a hard left to my head, and all I can do is cover up. My ears are ringing, and I can't fucking breathe in this fucking mask. I can barely see I forget to cover up, and lunge forward. All I can think is, I'm gonna grab his fucking head and

Then I stop. I don't want to hurt Larry. He's my friend. And I probably can't hurt him anyway. I back up. Take off the mask. He asks if I'm o.k.. The rest of the class doesn't know what just happened. I lean into my teacher and say, "I was slipping away, all I could think was that I wanted to hurt you, to make you stop embarrassing me. I was forgetting myself. I have to stop now. I'll be o.k., I just need a few minutes to get my head back together."

"It's o.k.," he says, "In fact, it's perfect. Don't sit down yet."

Then he tells the class that while sparring, I did exactly the right thing. We're here to learn. It's even more important though, in a real setting. Especially for the girls (Writers note: Sorry, I forgot to mention that the formal classes the Sunday sparring sessions drew from were 3/4 women only it's what you tend to see in a class titled "self defense for women." The mix at the gym on that Sunday was about half and half, as I recall).

He continued, "It will be very likely that if you're attacked, your attacker will be stronger. It is unlikely they will be smarter. If you can remember to think, as dispassionately as possible about what is happening, and what you can do about it, you give yourself the best chance you can."

And he's right, and I know all of this. But I know I don't like how it felt.

And that's how I felt when I excused myself from the bed. But apparently, I look fine. Amanda smiles and asks me if I'm o.k.

"Yes. I am. Are you?"


"Did you find your favorite picture?"

"Yes." She shows me.

"Good choice," I say. "Amanda, find the 'letters' section, please, and read me the first story you come across."

She looks a little puzzled, but finds it, and starts reading. It's too short. No details. Nothing particularly arousing. But she's a good reader. She's lying mostly on her side, propped up on one elbow. I'm on the side the magazine isn't, running my fingers along the ribs, down over her hips, along to her knee, into the back of her knee, and back up to her shoulder.

"Amanda, please lean back, and rest the magazine on your stomach, and read another."

She does. As she starts to read, I slide down to her waist. My knees are hanging off the bottom edge of the bed, and I've got one foot on either side of the mirror. I move between her legs. We're still a bit off center on the side of the bed. I reach down and grab the closest of the ropes I'd already hidden, keeping it in my hand. I slide to the other side of the bed, kissing along the insides of her pale thighs as I do so. As I cross from her left thigh to her right I lick around her pussy. She smells like a woman. I can't see that she's wet, but her lips are protruding more than they were before I dealt out her "punishment," I'm certain of it. I lick lightly on the right side of her lips, careful not to brush against either of them. I do the same to the left side, my right. The rope I've already grabbed is in my left hand.

She's still reading, but more softly. I stop.

"Amanda, don't stop reading - but speak up please."

She does. I lick the right side of her again. I slide my tongue to between her lips. She tastes like the first day of spring warm enough to walk around outside without a coat. Fresh. Clean. Wet. I don't linger. Instead, I make my tongue as small as I can, and run up to the top of her lips, running it over her engorged clit once. Amanda sucks in a quick breath. I can't see her face behind the magazine.

I continue kissing and licking her left thigh as I move to the other side of the bed. I reach over the edge and feel around for the other rope. I've got it. I want to tie her right leg first, because I'll be slower with that hand, and want them both tied before she's sure what's happening. I leave them lying on the bed, in view if she's to look.

The story she's reading is moving closer to it's inevitable conclusion. I slide up beside her, as I was before. She finishes the story. She looks at me.

"What do you say when it's too much, Amanda?"


I kiss her. Very softly. "You're beautiful, Amanda."

She smiles, and lowers her eyebrows, and tilts her head a tiny bit to the side. I can't take my eyes off of hers. She wants to ask a question, but I cut her off.

"We talked a little bit the other night, and I got the tiniest sense of who you are, Amanda. I don't have any idea if tonight is it, or if I'll ever see you again, or what will happen with the rest of our lives. You might move to London, or Sri Lanka, or get married, or hit by a bus."

"But I very much hope we stay in touch. If you can't, or don't want to, that's fine, but please say so. I'll give you all the space you want. I just, you're so, well, I don't know what you're going to do, or who you're going to be, but I'm certain it will be AMAZING."

"Do you understand?"

She smiles at me, and nods. "Yes."


I look at the next article. It's about a third of the first column, and fills all of the next two more. That should be enough.

"Read me the next story, then, Amanda." I smile. "Don't stop, or slow down, and read loud enough that I can hear you. You may not look up until the story is finished. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

She starts reading. I take a pillow and put it under her ass. She reads as I do so. I'm still beside her. I roll away from her long enough to find the other rope on what is now our right side of the bed. I roll back to her, keeping the rope hidden with my body. I start to kiss her again. The side of her face. Her neck. I wonder if she could taste herself on my lips. I think it's unlikely, it's not a strong taste at all. At least, not yet.

I kiss her breast, gently. I tongue her nipple, I run my right hand over her body. Her nipples get hard. I can barely feel her with my hand, I'm touching her so lightly. She keeps reading.

I lean over her right let, and my hand is still wandering. Past her pussy, down to her left knee, down to her ankle. Still, I'm kissing and licking my way down her body.

I swirl my tongue around her hip bone. She's full enough, I don't find it too bony - it's just right.

My hand wanders back to her pussy. I spread her lips.

Ever so lightly, I again start to lick. Again, her taste is green fields of wheat in a light breeze, still faint, but more pronounced. She keeps reading.

I broaden and flatten my tongue. I lick from just under the bottom of her pussy back to the top. As I do so, I gather the rope that's on my left side with my left hand, and her right foot with my right hand. I start kissing my way down her right thigh.

I push her right leg to my left. Spreading her wider. She moves her left leg the same way.

I pick her right leg up off the bed, and kiss the back of it. I'm licking the back of her knee.

She's starting to squirm.

"Does that feel good, Amanda?"

"Yes, Colton."

I slap the inside/back of her right thing, hard.

She gasps.

"I said you were not to stop reading, didn't I?"


CRACK! I hit her again, higher up.

"Then keep fucking reading."

She resumes.

I do too, kissing my way down to her ankle, and then lowering her foot.

I set it inside the circle I've made with the rope.

"Don't move unless I move you."

I kiss my way more firmly back to her pussy, spending a full minute kissing and licking the slightly overlapping handprints that are beginning to form on the back/insides of her thigh.

With my left hand now, I put my finger and thumb on either side, near the top of her pussy. Part of the palm of my hand is resting lightly against the neatly trimmed quarter long, two inch wide thatch of pubic hair. I pull my fingers toward her navel, and apart, spreading her pussy and giving me a perfect view of her hood, which is pulled halfway up on her clit. I see poetry. I breathe out as I draw my tongue towards her. It makes contact with her clit and her whole body twitches, but it doesn't feel like she's moved. I draw her clit into my mouth, and suck hard on it.

She's trying to keep reading, and doing a remarkable job. I lick the length of her pussy again, and start kissing and licking down her other leg.

Again, when I get to her ankle I kiss it, and put it where I want it, in the cirle of rope I've made.

I take hold of the rope, just below the knot. I do the same with the other, as I stand up.

I pull them both tight.

Her eyes wide, Amanda drops the magazine.

I smile, never taking my eyes off hers.

I say, "Be careful what you wish for."

"You stopped reading."

"And you moved."

"Turn over."

The ropes aren't tight enough that she can't, but it does require that she cross her ankles. She looks scared, but she rolled toward the side of the bed I started moving to, onto the other rope I'd laid on the bed. I sit on the edge of the bed, facing the foot. I run my hand over her ass.

I turn, so I can lean towards her face. I put left hand beside where her head is lying, and lean close to her ear.

"Do you remember what to say if it's too much?"


"Louder please, Amanda."


"Are you scared?"




I lean up, then stand up. I lean onto her. Her ass is tilted slightly towards me, as she's half on and half off of the pillow I'd slid under her ass earlier. I balance myself with my left hand in the small of her back. The coverlet is ridiculous shiny blue and green leaf pattern. The room smells like a foot. I can see her feet and my torso in the mirror. The lights are as bright as they get, but it's still plenty dim.

I shove my hand between her thighs, close to her pussy. I leave my thumb out. I widen the space between her legs, pull my hand back, and offer her my thumb to suck. She does. Her eyes are still wide.

I run my wet thumb along her pink asshole.

I roughly shove two fingers into her pussy.

Again, I withdraw my hand.

I suck my index finger.

I give her my middle finger.

She sucks her taste from my hand.

"Your pussy doesn't seem even a little frightened, Amanda."

"Hit me. Please." she whimpers.

I do.


As Madeline would say, "Li'l bit."

It's nowhere near a "l'il bit."

I stop when my arm hurts. It stung the first time. The next dozen, I don't think I felt that much, as the skin on my palm started to go numb. I'm not more than a dozen in, when I realize that my shoulder will be sore tomorrow, and that is probably enough.

Amanda is breathing heavy. Ragged gasps.

I'm not. I'm exultant. It feels like the room is brighter. Like there is light coming out of me.

I roll her back over.

I kiss her lips.

I lean toward her ear and whisper, heavily, "Are you allright?"

"Yes, Colton."

Her eyes are wet.

She spreads her legs.

I tie her wrist.

I walk around the foot of the bed, pick up the other rope.

I stop. I walk back around the bed. I pick up my socks.

I loosen the rope already tied around her right wrist. I wrap my sock around her wrist, and then the rope around that. I do the same to the other wrist.

I straddle her chest.

"Open your mouth."

She does.

"Suck my cock."

She does.

"Now my balls."

She does.

I turn around. I climb over her, putting sitting back on my heels, my knees on either side of Amanda's head.

"Raise your knees, and suck my balls."

I lean forward, so she can, and wrap both of my arms around her legs. Using my fingers on either side of her pussy I spread it wide.

Her juice runs out.

She's got both of my balls in her mouth.

I'm glowing.

I attack her pussy. There is nothing tender, or gentle about how.

My tongue is like a fist.

I've got the two first fingers of each hand pistoning in and out of her.

She comes. "Unfh, uh, uh, unfh oh, ahh, ghannafuckghhehddghhdn, is what it sounds like to me. But then, I can't really hear all that much as she's clenched her thighs against my ears.

I climb off.

She doesn't look scared.

Her chest is heaving. Her whole upper body is flushed. She looks, for lack of a better word, humid.

I'm hard.

And I want to fuck.

I put on a condom, standing near the top of her bed, close to her face as I do so.

She watches. The innocent smile is gone.

But she's smiling, approvingly.

Her knees are still up in the air.

I reach under them, and slide her closer to the bottom of the bed. The pillow is now just under her shoulder blades.

I think, "Her back is in the wet spot. "

I spread her legs wider.

I shove my cock into her sopping cunt.

She grunts.

I don't move. I just look at her.

"What do you want, Amanda?"

There is no trace in her answer of the "noblesse oblige" of which Faulker wrote. It's a command.

"Fuck me ROUGH."

I pull my cock out of her swollen pussy.

I walk to the head of the bed.

I slap her, not very hard.

"YOU, are not in charge. Do not presume to tell me what to do."

"Now, tell me again, what you would like."

Desperate and exasperatedly, Amanda answers, "Fuck me rough, PLEASE?!"

I smile at her, and think to myself, "Oh, I will..."


At 3:59 PM, Blogger Madeline Glass said...


I feel...humid.

(li'l bit.)

At 4:10 PM, Blogger Viviane said...

unhhhh, me too.

Nice template. very cute.

At 5:32 PM, Blogger Meg said...

god damn, colton.

At 7:26 PM, Blogger Jezebelle said...

Well, that was worth the wait! So the upper left corner of the US, eh? I think we live in the same area...I'm a West Coast girl.

At 1:07 PM, Blogger Car said...

Very hot, nice style. Do you still see this woman?

At 10:19 AM, Anonymous Chaff said...

Oh my, Papi!

At 6:23 PM, Blogger Meg said...

your words are keeping me company tonight.

At 4:26 PM, Blogger Jo said...

you are so not helping my streak colton.

in a word, wet.


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