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NSFW Erotic Writing For Adults. Perhaps Emotionally Intense

Ten

Maybe this was the moment that mattered, Flor thought. This time, after the magic and motion and pyrotechnics, when she felt satisfied, spent, vulnerable.

He was staying around, at least for a while. His scent and mass beside her comforted her. She pulled in closer to him, so his chest hair brushed against her cheek. May she was Barbie and maybe he was Ken, at least for the last few minutes anyway.

But that time ended. The Captain dressed, down to the watch and the dog tags and left. Flor fell asleep again. She slept for who knows how long. She awoke, surrounded by the soft sheets in the warm bed. She opened one eye, then the other. It was still light outside, the soft and fading light of an autumnal dusk. As her vision adjusted to the distance, she saw, on the nightstand, a harness, with a phallus attached.

OK. She recalled the last line of a limerick her first husband often recited, “who did what and to whom.”

Greta then walked into the room. She carried a tray with a glass of hibiscus flower tea, and some sliced fruit.

“How was your nap?”

“Greta, have you ever had a bad nap?”

Greta felt no need to answer the question.

“I need a shower.”

“Very well, but eat first.”

The kiwi fruit, pineapple and sliced pear were delicious and satisfying, the hibiscus tea was easy on the palette, with no heavy taste.

After the snack, Flor climbed in the shower, reveled in the overhead spray. Clean and relaxed, Greta did her hair and makeup again. There was a knock on the door. Beryl. After some small talk, Beryl got around to talking about this evening’s elephant in the room, the dildo and harness on the nightstand.

“This is a special night tonight. The Captain told me he would like things a little different.”

“Let me guess, that harness and rubber dick have something to do with things being different. Just who will be King For A Day, or Night, rather? Moi?”

Beryl nodded.

“You need to know something about Cap. Occasionally, he has a need to shed that air of command and just be used. And I mean used. He shows this side of himself to very few. I am one of his confidants, as well as Greta, and the young man, Barrows. I don’t know precisely what he has planned, but we are to meet him in the game room at Nine. By the way, nothing is off limits and he takes as well as he gives out.

“So I am going to top The Captain?”

“Correct.”

Beryl got down to helping Flor with the strapon rig, making sure it was comfortable and that the base of the phallus put just the amount of pressure on Flor’s clit.

Around, Eight Forty-five, Flor, Greta and Beryl went down to the game room. It looked perfectly like what a game room in a millionaire’s mansion should look like, except the billiard table had been moved to a corner of the room and a king size bed replaced it under the overhead light that usually illuminated the table.

There, naked on the bed, Barrows and The Captain were kissing as they caressed and touched each other, oblivious to any one or anything else in the room. Barrows kissed the Captain’s neck, then shoulders, then nipples, before he began biting and tugging at them .

A masked figure (Greta, she deduced), wearing a form fitting opaque gown, interrupted their deepening passion to blindfold both men with black silk cloths. Sensory deprivation. The Captain was now the one who moved down Barrows’ torso. Then he told Barrows, “Get on your knees while I suck your cock.”

With Barrows on his knees, Cap was on all fours fellating the young man’s admirable organ. The Captain’s buttocks were presented, his anus filled by a butt plug with a steel ring base.

Flor’s curiosity was piqued by this action. This scene was new to her and she never thought men loving men would excite her. Just then Beryl whispered to her, “The Captain told me of his desire to be spit-roasted.”

At that suggestion, Flor recalled that time when her then-dominant told her she would be spit-roasted; she would be sucking him off, while another man filled her cunt. That memory of being used so completely excited her. But after that scene, so very intense for her, her Dom rendered no aftercare. It was the other man’s woman. She (Flor never learned her name) was the one who held her,covered her with a silk comforter, placed a wet compress on her forehead.

Shortly after, that Dom removed her collar, ending their relationship. Maybe now is the time to let that anger and that memory go.

With a jar of lube, her silicone dick already sheathed with a condom,and gloved hands, she walked to the bed. She whispered in the Captain’s ear. “Your ass is mine now.” She pulled out the butt plug, then spit on his gaping anus. She put her gloved fingers into the lube jar, then into his asshole, moving them in and out. With her other hand, she jerked The Captain’s hard prick. The Captain began a moan, stifled by Barrows’ condom-covered prick in his mouth.

Flor was awakening to a power, unknown until this time. She lined the phallus up with the proffered anus and thrust. Then she placed her hands on his buttocks, moving in and out. She could feel the friction of the base on her clit, less excited by the friction than by that powerful feeling of command and control

She watched Barrows, his face indicating his orgasm was near. She moved a hand back to the Captain’s penis, and began to stroke and jerk it to bring on his crisis.

“Cum, motherfucker!”, she growled With no condom on the prick, the Captain’s semen spurted onto the sheet.

She pulled out , leaned down to the Captain’s ear.

“Lick that jism up Boy!” She slapped his ass hard, leaving a hand print.Then Flor walked back to where Beryl sat, opened a bottle of mineral water and unexpectedly for her, cried in deep, shaking sobs.