At Long Edged Last

At Long Edged Last

Author's note: Though the events depicted in the story are entirely fictitious, they are based on real discussions with a real-life person. The omission of all names is thus entirely intentional for privacy protection reasons, but also to enable some self-insertion for the reader should you wish to do so. I hope that you enjoy the scene!

*~*~*~*

This is it. Just over two years of knowing each other, countless words exchanged, including in some very inappropriate places at very inappropriate times, thousands of miles later, and we are finally going to meet.

It's not possible for me to put into words how many times I thought about this moment or the various scenarios that my mind conjured of how this would go. I actually shake these thoughts off as I make my way to the café. These thoughts aren't helpful. Stay in the moment, don't set yourself up for anything except what's happening right now, remember that you're not obliged to do anything. I remind myself of these things like a mantra that scares away anxiety and nerves.

The odd thing is that I'd never be this nervous on a first date with anyone I met on a dating app. Having learnt to take first dates very much at face value, no expectations except to see if we get along, I was always the one who was very relaxed and confident, watching with slightly amused bafflement how my dates were the exact opposite of that.

But this isn't quite a first date. There's already some intimate and vulnerable history between us, he knows parts of me that not many people have ever gotten to experience. This may be the first time we meet, but it comes with expectations far exceeding those of a first date.

It almost happened that this would be just a first meeting of two people who connected online. However steamy the circumstances of that connection may be. But through various factors, neither of us is currently attached. Whilst I can't speak for him, I certainly need to get some things out of my system. At the very least satisfy a curiosity. Fantasising about the unknown is easy, reliving what you've only ever imagined is infinitely exciting - reality doesn't always hold up in the same way. This meeting will either close a lid on that or open a completely new door that I hadn't expected. That I didn't allow myself to expect.

That is why I've checked and rechecked myself in the mirror probably fifty times before stepping out of the hotel room. For some reason lost to history now, I've always envisioned wearing this pink dress to our first meeting: it's cute, it's feminine, it flatters my body in all the right ways, and floats elegantly with the lift of a petticoat in the breeze. But are the cottagecore stays too much? Yes, they give my tits the most amazing lift, the crescent moons above the dress' neckline getting even me excited, but the doubtful voices in my head say that I just look like a wannabe Instagram influencer. Are the heels too much? They're comfy for me, but this is supposed to be chill, do they read across as too dressy? And gods only know how many times I've faffed with my hair, trying to give it the windswept volume that looks effortless and is anything but. I know that by most people's standards I am overdressed anywhere I go, on any given day of the week - but this one guy's opinion somehow matters and I want him to see the real me, whilst also thinking me attractive.

At least the denim jacket is undeniably casual. Thrown on without fastening, it shields me from the still chilly March breeze, whilst taking some of the edge of the extra frilly, girly personification of spring that's currently marching down the street. I catch a glimpse of myself, brown hair now actually windswept, flowing in sync with the dress, green eyes shining a little bit because the sunshine and the anticipation make me happy, the chill sending a natural blush to my face as if I wasn't pink enough already, and it gives me the confidence boost that I needed. I look good. I look like myself. I feel like that too. If that is too much for him... Well, I guess one other thing I had in mind when getting dressed today was also how easy it'd be to undress me.

The café was only a short walk from my hotel. A deliberate choice to minimise commuting time, whether for a need of an escape or retreat. But also because these big American cities intimidate me so much. I've lived in cities all my life, I've been to even bigger cities, but as a European I find the American need to make everything so goddamn tall excessive. No wonder they're calling this The Windy City, the drafts caught in the tunnels these buildings are creating are amplifying whatever bit of wind may wander past into a gale. The less I deal with that by keeping my commute short, the better.

Once inside, I realise that I'm the first to arrive, so I order a tea and find two cushy armchairs that create their own private booth. Not that privacy is that needed - it's that awkward time in the afternoon where lunchtime people are long gone, the three people who came here to work are all solo and spread out, and the mothers catching up with each other on the way back from school run are now rushing to pick their kids back up.

From where I'm sat by the window I have a view of one side of the street (not very exciting, just the road and slate grey of the buildings mirroring those on my side), as well as the door and the people coming in and out. The few that do at this time. Still, it's peaceful. There's something immensely enjoyable about people watching, trying to guess their life stories whilst warming my chilly fingers around a large cup of tea. I wonder if any of them are trying to guess my story right now. And if any of them came even close to the truth.

It doesn't take long before he arrives. He's a little shorter than I thought (but then I am terrible at visualising people's heights even with an actual measurement) and it's been a while since we've exchanged a photo, but there's no mistaking him for anyone else. The casual 90s inspired jacket and jeans suit him a lot and I immediately notice that he's shaved. As much as I liked the moustache, this cleaner look suits the clothes more. My heart jumps, suddenly all nervous, but I ignore it and stand up smiling wide.

"Hi!" I say, hoping that it wasn't too loud for the other people in the café whilst simultaneously not caring about that one single bit.

"Hi!" His voice, which I'm only hearing for the first time, is warm and friendly, and it instantly makes me feel reassured because he sounds just as excited to see me. "It's so good to finally meet you!"

We close the distance between each other, both spreading our arms wide, then fall into a tight hug. Almost despite myself I notice how soft the fabric of his jumper is. And that he has been working out, like he's been saying he has.

"Lemme get a drink and I'll be right back with you."

I try not to stare too much whilst he's at the counter, but with how many glances I am sneaking in and with my refusing to occupy myself in the usual way of looking down at my phone, I may as well have done. So instead I focus on replaying his words in my head, listening to this voice and, more importantly, the accent. Two years of trying to guess are finally over and if I'm honest, I'm relieved that whilst the American influence is undeniably there, it's still broken up with the echoes from his home country. It's a lot more pleasant and somehow even a bit more familiar to my ears that way.

Soon enough he's back with a steaming mug of coffee, if the aroma is anything to go by.

"I still can't believe you're here," he says, big smile plastered on his face, as he sits down in the chair opposite me.

"Me neither. And I'm not sure which is more surreal, this," I gesture to the street outside, "or this," my hand flicks between the two of us.

"Definitely this!" His hand mirrors the latter gesture and we both laugh knowingly.

And just like that, the atmosphere of nervous anticipation relaxes. This isn't the first time I've met online friends IRL and this isn't the first time I've met with a guy whom I met online. There's an odd sense of familiarity that helps me ease into the conversation - though not as much as the good natured chat that he's driving forward.

Soon enough the remains of both of our drink are starting to dry up at the bottoms of the cups and we are still talking and laughing. Time stopped being something my body perceived, like every other time I've enjoyed myself to the fullest.

"You know," he says, leaning an elbow on the armrest and propping his chin up on his hand, "we should've used voice chat sooner."

"It was hard to coordinate with how busy you constantly are."

"And with the time difference."

"And with how inevitably one of us says something not safe for work or public spaces."

"We haven't now!"

"It's a new record."

We laugh the comment off and then he leans closer to me with a smile. However, it's the glint in his eye that signals the shift in tone, even before he opens his mouth.

"But how much more delicious these inappropriate things must sound with that cute British accent of yours."

It's at times like these that I desperately wish that I possessed the ability of lifting just one eyebrow. I still make an attempt; if I believe that I am the heroine of the story of my life who arches a brow in situations like this, then it has to become the reality, right?

"Oh? Is that so?" My voice lowers just a little, rounding those o's even more. I'm rewarded with that smirk growing on his face.

"It is indeed." He tries to copy my way of speaking and manages a good enough British accent. Except that his voice, also appropriately lowered, does things to my stomach that I haven't experienced in a long while.

"Why don't we go for dessert then? Seeing as we're done with our drinks?"

The cafe's counter is still pretty full with pastries and muffins left over from lunch. He catches my drift and with an approving smile, stands up whilst throwing his jacket on in what has to be just one motion, then gestures gallantly towards the door:

"Lead the way."

He gets to the door first and holds it open for me, a gesture which was already enough to make me swoon just a little. Then, as I walked past, his other hand brushed against the small on my back, sending a rain of shivers upon it and keeping my breath hostage in my chest, as he leaned to whisper in my ear:

"I wonder if you taste as delicious as you sound..."

Our eyes met and the air shifted under the force of the pressure vibrating in the tight space between us. Even the cold wind snapping against my face as we finally left did nothing to cool down the fire that was growing after those first sparks were thrown into the pit. Over the sounds of my heels clicking on the pavement, the only sound filling in the silence laden with determination, I told him:

"You know... I've been edging myself for a week now..."

I made sure that he was looking at me as I said this. Anyone could've heard, seeing as we were out on the street, but we didn't walk past anyone and I was feeling bold, flying on the wings of being incredibly horny, so I didn't care. All that mattered was that he realised what he's been doing to me, the thought of him on my mind every evening when I had indeed been edging. He hadn't asked me to do that, but we'd talked about that early on when our acquaintance first grew steamy. It burned an imprint in my mind strong enough that just the promise of seeing him was enough for me to fulfil my end of this unspoken bargain that I hoped he also remembered. Because he had his own end to uphold.

His only response to that admission was a half-smirk growing on his lips. He didn't slow down, he didn't touch me as we walked side by side, he didn't say anything. Only that one corner of his mouth lifting was my sign that he remembered our conversations from two years before.

It wasn't until we entered the hotel lobby that I felt his hand on my elbow, gentle, yet somehow possessive, a loud declaration that I was with him, not the other way around. No-one at reception as much as acknowledged us, which I was partly relieved about since I was a visible enough presence in my loud clothes that I didn't want any of the staff to suddenly be privy to my sexual escapades.

Whether by luck or because it was a time in the afternoon when people didn't go in and out of hotels much, the lift was also blissfully empty. The moment the doors shut in front of us, his hand wandered back to the small of my back, its warmth radiating across the rest of my body. The distance that was still between us felt cold.

"A whole week of edging, huh?" He finally acknowledged the comment, the warm voice weakening my knees. "I'm so lucky to have such a dedicated princess..."

Princess. The nickname he gave me pretty early on, one that elicited images of pretend innocence and the power dynamic that we ended up embodying in our play the most. Hearing it in that caramel voice of his, in his accent, tied knots in my lower belly that I couldn't wait to unravel, tempted all the more by the promises of pleasure this would bring.

"You should feel lucky," I replied, trying to sound cool. Never in my life have I accomplished that, but there was no harm in trying. At worst my bratty mouth might get me some pleasurable punishment, which I was more than up for. The lift rang to announce our floor right as I said: "Between that and not having had sex for over a year, I am ready to go feral."

Thankfully there was no-one on the corridor, else I would've very quickly regretted my bold choice of words and the lack of an indoor voice

I was in the middle of fishing my key card out of my jacket, when a hand on my elbow stopped me and turned me around. Gone were the smirk and the cheeky glint in his eye, replaced by something sincere and caring.

"You still want to go ahead with it? The way that we talked about?"

Prior to my flying out to America we discussed what we wanted out of this meeting. No detail was left out: our desires, our limitations, safe words, what we could expect from each other and our bodies, what to look out for. Every detail discussed and agreed upon, all left with the option of backing out at any time. It was the most talking I did pre-sex about sex with anyone and contrary to what mainstream culture might have you believe, it was exciting as hell.

Knowing that this was on his mind, that he wanted to check in with me at the very last minute if we still wanted to go through with this, swelled something up in my throat that I swallowed down.

"I would abso-fucking-lutely love to!"

A smile and a click of the key card reader later we were in my hotel room. The first thing that I did, before anything else, was hang the "Do not disturb" sign on the door. Just in case any housekeeping staff were around this late; besides, I've always wanted to do that. Then I kicked my heels off in the most chaotic way that I've ever done before falling into his arms for the closeness I'd been deprived of up until now. I was not about to be restricted in any way now.

"Aww, I liked those," he said, his hands snaking around my waist.

Without this extra bit of height I now had to stand up on my toes. And every part of me loved that I had to do that because it meant that I had all possible excuse to put my hands on his shoulders for additional support.

"There's plenty left for you to take off at your leisure." Without giving him any time to reply, I stretched even further up on my tiptoes, then right as our lips were about to touch I whispered: "May I kiss you?"

His chuckle warmed the skin around my mouth.

"If you don't, then I will."

The first kiss was slow, exploratory, as we tested how our lips felt when pressed against one another and how our tongues tasted grazing over each other. But the rush of excitement into my chest and head was like a burst of fizz when you open up a bottle of pop, and the kisses after that were hungrier, greedier. One of his arms embraced me closer, I could feel its strength as it supported my back, while his other hand wandered up, first to my jaw, then cheek, finally burying itself into my hair. I broke the kiss only enough to half-gasp, half-moan, but when I tried to go back, that hand in my hair held me back millimetres awat from his lips that already curved in that cheeky smirk that was crashing waves down below.

"Oh, you like that, do you?"

"Love it," my words came out more like an exhale than speech. "Please, do this more."

"With pleasure."

Leaning in for another kiss, he let his other hand join its sister in tangling itself up in my hair. The avalanche of sensations, from the electrified tingling caused by his fingers entwining themselves in my hair to the elated pleasure of his tongue dancing with mine and the kiss near literally stealing my breath, I felt like the only thing holding me upright were those hands.

Not for long, however. Bored from standing in the middle of the tiny entryway, he guided us further into the room, not breaking the kiss once. I'm not sure if he was just blindly guessing or actually remembered the room layout from that one initial glimpse. Suffice to say that when he pinned me against the empty expanse of the wall, we did not hit a single obstacle, big or small. Pressed between the cold, hard plaster and the hot, hard body, my lungs were fighting for every scrap of breath that this situation was depriving me of. We hadn't talked about any specific scenarios that we enjoyed, yet it seemed as if he was reading my mind, knowing exactly what to do to make me weak at the knees and then beg for more. Helpless in this position, the sensation of being physically overpowered rushed down my sternum all the way to my core, melting it and creating a mess of a puddle in my knickers. Even breathing, whatever bit of it I managed to do, heightened the pleasure soaring through thousands of nerve endings across my body. The rise and fall of my chest squished by his frame sent tingles all over my skin, the same ones that I knew so well as the screams of my body to be touched and caressed.

Rather than do it myself or place his hands on me to demand that physical attention, I opted for making myself as much of a nuisance as I could. With my own hands unoccupied, they could roam freely over his shoulders and arms, down his chest and back. Sure, all that I was feeling under my palms was the soft jersey of his jumper, with only some outline of the body underneath it, but it wasn't about satisfying my desire to touch him, at least not yet - it was about making him so hot and bothered that he'd take it off himself.

Some of my writhing must have worked because with a groan he pulled away to mutter right into my lips:

"Such an impatient princess..."

However, to my utter disappointment, he didn't take any of his clothing off.

But to my joy, and quickening my heartbeat even more, his hands slid out of my hair and grabbed my wrists before pinning them to the wall. The pressure of his weight on me wasn't much, just enough to remind me that he wasn't really trying and that I'd do better by obeying; that sufficed to make me forget my breathing and whimper just a little bit.

"I want to enjoy you first," he murmured, which sounded like a promise to my ears. Good thing that his hands kept me pinned to the wall or else I'd slide down it, my knees giving up entirely.

Lost in another kiss, I focused only on his lips. And a little bit on trying to arch my back as far as possible to create even the tiniest bit of friction on my chest, currently the part most desperate for his touch and attention. My breasts were such needy brats when I got horny, I couldn't help it and didn't want to help it.

Needless to say, my arching achieved very little. But then his kisses moved from my lips over my cheek, towards my ear, and from the moment hot skin seared the hollow underneath my earlobe and began a slow journey down my neck, I could only communicate my needs in moans. He kept the caresses gentle, which to my touch starved skin was enough to get me writhing and stretching in a wordless plea for more.

"Aww," the vibration of his voice tickled the skin right over the pulsing vein on my neck. "Has my princess edged herself so bad that this is making her crazy?"

"Yes," I whimpered, struggling to use my words and breathe at the same time. The response elicited another soft chuckle from him.

"Too bad. I plan on taking my time with you. At this rate, you will turn into a mindless, horny mess before I so much as look at your pussy. And I'm going to have my fun by keeping your edge. Do you think you can do that for me?"

My mind was spinning: from desire, from the sinful promises he was making to me, from the distracting sensations his lips were sending through my whole body... I swallowed hard, my throat parched from gasping and sighing so intensely, before forcing my eyes open to find his looking at me for an answer.

"I will do my best," was the most honest, the most earnest answer I could offer.

"Good girl," and this low, vibrating praise nearly sent me reeling in an endorphin rush. I have discovered some time within the last few years how well my brain responded to praise and may have made the mistake of letting him know that. Although he was a smart man, he'd have figured this out within minutes of us doing anything that wasn't just talking.

To free at least one hand whilst keeping me pinned, he got closer and pushed a thigh between my legs. I was all but ready to start riding it, desperate for every bit of friction, but it was actually keeping me relatively immobile. And I didn't want to disappoint so soon after promising to try. So I only allowed myself another moan straight into his mouth, which he claimed again with a kiss, this one deeper and wetter. The hand that now wasn't holding my wrists to the wall moved so that his palm was cradling my jaw, the thumb at my chin, pulling it down to open my mouth even more. Before leaving the room to meet with him I set the AC to keep the room quite warm, knowing how quickly I get cold without clothes on. Now, with the additional heat radiating from within me and from his body, I felt the first droplet of sweat tickle me on its way down the nape of my neck.

How could he keep the tempo this leisurely? I was losing my marbles with the sensory deprivation, while he enjoyed my mouth as if we spent every day making out for hours and there was no rush at all. My skin crawled to get something, so gathering all my will, when his lips momentarily left mine, I breathed out a single:

"Please..."

"Please what?"

"Please, let me touch you," I finished, managing to lift my eyelids to look him in the eye.

"And have you distract me again?" He sounded amused. "No, we can't have that."

"Then let me suck you."

Now I had his attention! Something in his confident mask slipped, not exactly visibly, but just enough that it wasn't quite that same face that told me 'no' barely a moment ago.

This shift in what he expected from me was a tell-tale sign of how worked up I was. Sucking cock was something that I struggled with for years and only really discovered a way to enjoy it myself recently. There was still a fair leap between finding a way to enjoy performing the act, however, and actively wanting to do it, to feeling in the mood to suck cock. And right now I was so starved for some friction that anywhere would do. I wanted a dick somewhere, even if it wouldn't be my pussy just yet.

He composed himself in the blink of an eye and leaning closer to me, so that I would feel his breath on my lips, asked:

"You want to suck my cock?" I nodded eagerly. "I can't say no to that now, can I?"

His hands released me slowly, lingering on just long enough to ascertain that I had my balance and was able to stand. Not that it mattered because I was heading to get on my knees anyway. Keeping eye contact all the way down, I broke it only once I was comfortably kneeling in front of him, needing to see to unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans. You know all those porn stars who do it blindly? They're either cutting out the fumbling or my not wearing trousers for so many years means that I no longer have the muscle memory to do it without looking - I'd rather break eye contact than break the mood by looking incompetent at such a simple task as undoing someone's belt and trousers.

I pulled the jeans and his underwear down only enough to free his cock, which pointed towards me with zest. Licking my lips was instinctual. I didn't think about it nor meant to use that as any sort of seduction tactic. However, whilst my eyes were fixated on the dick in front of me, his were following my every move because above me I heard an amused:

"Like what you see?"

I looked up, the boost to my desire hitting me squarely in the lungs at seeing him from this angle, which put me in that submissive mindset. The angle worked in my favour too, it made my eyes appear larger and when our gazes locked, I saw him suck a breath in through his teeth.

That was all the encouragement that I needed and summoning my most seductive smile, I drew some spit onto my tongue before running it over my lips once again. The red lipstick that I was wearing would hold against that, but it was about to be put to a real test.

Without another word, without moving my gaze, I slowly wrapped one hand around the base of his cock to guide it towards my lips. Pursed at first, where I brought out as much spit as I could, then letting the hard pressure of his head spread them and slide inside.

I didn't go all the way in on that first go, just the head, but it already made him suck in another, this time more ragged breath, which caught when I gently flicked my tongue over the tip. Focusing on keeping my lips wet and over my teeth the entire time, I worked his cock further in, little by little, stroke by stroke. He tasted musky, but also vaguely of spices; the heady combination of flavours revved me up to suck with more enthusiasm.

On my own I could only get about half of its length in. Whilst I kept the pace steady, if on the slower side, each time I went in, I tried to work a little bit more of it in. This rhythm kept rolling through my body, making me too hot in my own skin with how horny pleasuring this cock made me. I was still fully dressed, the fabric of my dress painfully present against my skin that tingled and itched, screaming for touch. My hips rocked in tandem with my head going in and out, whatever was still left of my panties undoubtedly soaked thoroughly through.

And in some masochistic way, I loved how much more on edge this got me. I could have touched myself, but I deliberately didn't. Feeling my desire grow and grow, with no release in sight, awoke a frantic excitement that I haven't felt in ages, if I've ever experienced it to begin with. My body knew that when this touch deprivation ended, my nerves would be begging on their knees and would heighten every tiny sensation bestowed upon them. For all of my bravado and promises of holding out on cumming until I was permitted to, I may have to endure some punishment at orgasming from the mere brush of his fingers against my chest or legs. Then again, if I could ride myself to an edge this severe that just being touched would cause me to cum, I would gladly accept whatever punishment he had in store; it would be one hundred per cent worth it.

Although I was already moaning as I salivated more and more on the cock in my mouth, that moan grew to a near scream when his hands wrapped themselves around my hair once more. He wasn't rough yet, only held me in place while he took control and guided his cock into my mouth.

"You're doing so well," he kept saying, his voice vibrating with promises of rewards for doing a good job. "You're taking my cock like such a good girl, opening your warm, wet mouth for me and running that tongue up and down my shaft."

With my mouth full, all I could do was moan in agreement and appreciation, the praise making me even more eager to earn more of it.

"What do you say," he carried on, not breaking the rhythm even once, "that we let your messy side out to play for a bit?" I looked up, but he wasn't taking his cock out of my mouth anytime soon, which made him laugh. "I'm sorry, that was very mean of me, asking you questions when your mouth is busy. You can blink twice if you are up for it and once for no."

Blink. Blink.

He didn't say anything more. My only warning was the grip in my hair tightening and knowing that things were about to get more intense. It was enough to take a deep breath and open my mouth wider. By the time I'd done that, his cock was ramming into my mouth at twice the speed so far, hitting the back of my throat each time. This was barely short of triggering my gag reflex, though enough to make my eyes water.

At the same time, as I did my best to focus on sticking out my tongue and breathing, the sensation of my mouth filling up with saliva and slowly dripping down my chin, whatever wasn't coating the shaft fucking me, wired me up even more. When you're always proper, letting go of that and getting messy isn't easy. Except that now I had permission - no, practically an order to let go of that bit of control. And the freedom was exhilarating.

He pulled out for a moment to let me catch my breath when the tears streaking down the sides of my face reached my jaw.

"Keep your mouth open, princess." When I opened my eyes, I saw the string of spit that still connected my tongue to his cock, glistening in the bit of daylight coming in through the open curtains of the window. "Look at me. You look fucking beautiful." I could only imagine the smeared lipstick and the mascara tears, but still I smiled wide at the compliment. "You are the messiest princess with the sluttiest mouth that I love having around my dick."

There was no time to respond as he proceeded to fuck my mouth once more.

It seemed that the moment I closed my eyes, his voice snapped me back with a commanding "Eyes on me." And whilst it did make remembering about all the things harder, good God, seeing his face made my eyes roll backwards. He really was looking at me as if I was the sexiest creature on this planet. When I blinked a few times to flutter my lashes, his groan was so guttural I felt its vibration more than heard the sound. The fingers entwined in my hair tightened and when I moaned in turn, his cock twitched on my tongue. So I kept moaning; even if some of them came out as stifled gurgles, it was still turning him on even more.

"You're going to make me cum if you keep at it," he said, struggling to get the words out between thrusting so fast and all the pleasure my mouth was giving him. I caught a moment when he slowed down with the tip of his dick in my mouth, so I gave it a gentle if quick suck by wrapping my lips around it, which rewarded me with another groan. "You want me to cum in that pretty mouth of yours, princess?" I managed an "Mhm" with the lightest of nods without breaking rhythm. "Oh, it will be my pleasure to give you that!"

I braced myself against the pumping cock and what was about to happen. Whilst he seemed happy to do just that, I still wanted to help him get off, so did all that I could think of, from crossing my arms in front of me to push my chest out to moaning around his shaft louder and louder. If I imagined that it was my pussy he was fucking, the perverse image conjured up by my mind riled my own edge up even more, so it's not like it was hard to moan.

"Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!"

With no further warning, he grabbed fistfuls of my hair, not exactly forcing me onto his dick as much as holding me in place while his hips thrusted further towards my mouth, and then hot cum splashed against the back of my throat. Even if I wanted to keep it on my tongue, there was no way to not swallow it down. I did so whilst moaning with each squirt, hoping the additional vibrations would pleasure his cock as it was cumming.

The spasms stopped soon and I swallowed the last of his cum. His eyes were still closed and his hands still gripped my head when I looked up, watching him come down from this high.

"Oh... my... God! Princess...!" He moaned. When he finally looked at me, his eyes were darker than before and the smile that curved his mouth also felt more intense, although it was also incredibly obviously satisfied. "I have dreamed about that mouth of yours for months... and still it turned out to be so much better. You took that like such a good girl. C'mere."

Freeing my head from both the grip and his softening cock, his hands opened in front of me and when I slid mine into his, he helped pull me up. It all happened a bit too quickly; between my weak knees and going dizzy I lost my balance, landing right into his arms to the accompaniment of both of us laughing.

"You've just made me cum and you're the one being swept off your feet?"

"What can I say, I'm a bit drunk on you," I replied with a wink. The truth was that I was more than just drunk - I was also incredibly horny and my brain kept redirecting all functions away from my limbs in favour of my pussy.

"I can sober you up while my cock takes a break." He grinned at me, his mouth mere centimetres from mine and had I had any strength, I would've kissed him.

"I don't want to sober up. I want more."

"Such a greedy princess." He tutted at me, but with no zeal to it. "Though I guess you have more than earned more. And I am nowhere near done with you."

"Are you not?"

"If you keep giving me this much attitude, then I'll make you work triple hard for just one orgasm."

That shut me up in an instant. Much to his amusement.

Which turned into something much darker as one of his arms snaked around my waist, while the other lifted my leg up to his hip. Sliding up my leg under my dress, sending delightful shivers as his skin slowly caressed all the sensitive nerve endings, first on the outside of my thigh and then on the inside, I barely managed to remember to breathe. For one moment, which elicited the gaspiest of moans, his palm cupped my cheek, the gesture possessive and the grip warm, so good that had I been in possession of my speech, I would've asked him to squeeze the other. But it all lasted but a moment, the fingers tracing the edge of my panties all the way to the front.

"Oh my...!" His voice rasped a little in this pretend surprise. "So little and my princess is this wet for me already?"

Forcing my eyelids to lift so that I could look him in the eyes, I swallowed before answering:

"Don't forget the week of edging."

"A whole week of edging for me... and here I am, planning to edge you some more myself." I whimpered, only a little, to which he gently kissed my whimper away, still managing to steal my breath in the process. "I know, I know. But I want to have my fun with you... and I will make it worth it for you, princess. You won't be able to cum straight away..." His hand moved to cup my drenched panties and push a finger over where my clit was, drawing a half-surprised, half-excited shout out of me. "But when you do, I want you to scream your lungs out until you're hoarse. And then," he moved closer to whisper into my ear - which would've been distracting had his finger drawing circles not been more so, "I will make you cum some more and more, until you are completely spent."

The very sound of these words stripped me of whatever strength I still had in my body. Held only by his hands around my waist and thigh, I slumped into his arms as the one leg I'd been standing on gave up under me.

"Whoa, I got you, princess."

"You better," I breathed out. "Because if you keep this up, I won't be able to stand upright."

"Is that so?" He pretended to ponder something for a second. "I guess you'll just have to surrender to me then, aren't you? Because I'm enjoying you like this." A finger flicked back over my clit, still covered by the wet fabric of my knickers. "This dress? Having my hand under it? It's doing it a lot for me!"

Grinding against someone's hand when you're only standing on one leg is incredibly difficult, as I found out the hard way. The friction was blissful, radiating tingles all the way up my body, but it wasn't enough. Even as edged as I was, I needed more to truly get off. So I stayed in place, whimpering and held entirely at his mercy because his caresses were just enough to keep me from reclaiming some semblance of control over my body.

"Are you enjoying this, princess?"

"I am. I would love some more of this, please."

"Greedy girl," he tutted, seeing right through me, though there was no bite to it, only indulgent smiles. "If you get more, you might cum."

"I might."

"But you're not allowed to yet."

"Not even if I ask nicely?"

Instead of a reply, I received a harder rubbing, which took me by surprise and forced a gasp of shock mixed with pleasure. It stopped before my brain could register enjoying that sensation. Followed up by a deep, possessive kiss, I was left with my thoughts sufficiently clouded for his liking.

"You may ask, but I'm not sure if you're ready to receive what I'm giving, princess."

With the arm around my waist pressing harder as my only warning, his other hand pulled the panties aside and touched my wet pussy. This gasp was one that I inhaled, the higher pitched sound echoing slightly off the hotel room walls.

"My God, you are wet!" The delight in his voice sent a shiver down my spine.

"Please..."

"Please, what?"

"Please, put a finger in me."

The curve of his lips deepened; from this close I saw a shadow of a dimple in his left cheek.

"Feeling a little empty?" I nodded vigorously, swallowing down to soothe my suddenly parched throat. "And you promise not to cum just yet?" Another nod; unless his fingers were going to fuck me relentlessly, I believed that I'd able to hold it whilst also scratching some of this itch. "As you wish then."

My head rolled forwards with a loud moan, forehead resting on his arm, when a finger slid inside me with absolutely no resistance. With one leg still hitched over his hip, the position left me open to exploring, while the tension in my muscles kept my pussy tight.

"Fuck, you are so drenched." Even with blood thrumming in my ears I heard the slick sounds of his finger going in and out, as well as felt the friction of the movement. When he curled the tip of his finger, it shot electricity through my body, arching it back to standing upright. "Oh, you like that, do you?"

"I love it!" He did it again and while my eyes closed to experience the pleasure more, a genuinely blissful smile blossomed on my lips. "Your finger is reaching so deep into me, it's amazing!"

"You think that's amazing, then wait until I do this."

The second of sudden emptiness when his finger withdrew was worth it because when he filled me again, it was with two fingers. Had I not been dripping wet, the second one would've had a much harder time sliding in, though even as wet as I was, two fingers was enough to make me feel the stretch.

My fingers latched onto his shoulders, not bothering to keep him safe from my nails anymore, as my whole body leaned against him with all its weight. And all he did was slowly slide those damn two fingers in and out of me - enough to turn me into a loud moaning mess ready to cry with relief at getting some friction now.

"Oh, you really like that, don't you?"

Already knowing that I had no capacity to respond, he slowly fucked me, in and out, in and out, while my nails dug into his jumper, ready to pierce a hole through the fabric just so that I could reach the skin. Amused by my efforts to rock my hips along with his movement, he dipped his head and I felt the gentlest of kisses on my cheek, ear, the hollow just below the earlobe, trailing a path down the side of my neck, stopping only when he found the spot that made me gasp. One of our rules was no marks from the collarbone up, but even though I was the one to propose it, I was now desperate to get rid of it as I wanted him to kiss my neck harder.

It didn't occur to me that even this gentle caress was still adding to the fire that he was stoking inside my pussy until a warmth spread up my stomach and through the rest of my body. Not once had his fingers sped up, he didn't even touch my clit or bothered to touch my chest, yet the position we were in, the neck kisses, and the starvation of sexual release finally came together to bring me to the brink of orgasm.

"Oh God...!" I moaned, managing to lift my head.

"Yes, princess?"

"I think..." I had to gasp for air, as he did not stop toying with me. "I think I'm going to cum... if you... if you keep doing this."

"Are you asking for my permission to cum?"

Moving to look me in the eye, I did not need the warning glint in his, carefully masked under a smirk, to know what the correct answer was.

"No. I'm... I'm warning you that I won't manage to hold it off much longer."

The smirk softened back to amused.

"Already? I think you can hold out longer than that, princess."

Was my mind playing tricks on me or did the speed of his finger fucking increased ever so slightly? It couldn't have, that had to be just my imagination.

Still, I shook my head, feeling the waves of pleasure start to swell up and unable to hold them off with my legs spread vertically like this.

"I really don't think I can."

"Are you close?" I nodded. "How close?"

"Close."

"Then you can hold it for a bit longer."

He laughed at the distinctly bratty whine that escaped me, the one that sounded like I always got what I want. Even though right now I would've loved to cum, yet here I was, asking him to help me hold this edge.

Then he did actually speed up. I let out a short scream, mostly of surprise, though that morphed into pleasure faster than the blink of an eye. If I struggled to hold it then, there was no way that I could last now.

"Oh my God, pleeease!" I moaned, my voice shaking to the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Please what?"

"It feels so good, I'm going to cum!"

"Are you actually?"

The question sounded so ridiculous to me, mind lost to the heat that sent beads of sweat trickling down the back of my legs, pussy trying to clench to stop the avalanche from tumbling down and making me fail. That he didn't react to my snappy tone was credit to him.

"Yes, I can't hold it any longer, please!"

"What is it that you're asking me for?"

I knew better than that, but I still spoke before I could stop myself:

"Please, let me cum!"

"No, you have to keep your edge."

"Then please, give me a moment to breathe."

"Do you want to use your safe word?"

My mouth clamped shut. That was the last thing I wanted to do. This wasn't a 'too much to bear' moment - this was an 'I am greedy for orgasms and for praise, and I don't want to fail' moment. Which he damn well knew. He caught my pride and called it out. Any other time, when I wasn't on the brink of losing my mind and trying to tense every single muscle in that one part or my body, I would've respected him for it; right now all I could do was loathe him just a little.

And even that I couldn't keep up for long because whether sensing the sudden hostility or realising that he needed to change tactics, he slowed down, leaning in for a kiss, which felt more stolen than given.

"You're doing so well," he murmured against my lips, the sticky caramell of his voice soothing some of the tingling and the edge. "I know you really want to cum, I can feel it, you're practically ready to either drown my hand or snap my fingers off, maybe both." We both chuckled softly at that. "But you've kept yourself on edge for a whole week and are staying on edge now, doing such a wonderful job and looking fucking beautiful at it too. You can beg me to cum and maybe I will... or maybe I won't. But do you really want to flush all that you managed so far down the drain? Look at yourself, princess." He made a point of looking me up and down. "You're taking my fingers fucking you and are holding that orgasm at bay like the good girl that you are. In this fucking sexy position too! You're so incredible, looking gorgeous when you're all flushed and breathing so hard that your chest is practically popping that fancy corset thing off. I want to give you even more pleasure than just this because you fucking deserve it and I would never ask you to do anything that I wasn't confident you could do." His mouth brushed my cheek as it aimed for my ear before he whispered: "Hold that orgasm for me, princess, and when I do let you cum, you will blow the roof off this place."

And the weird thing was that this worked. It could've been the slowing down or the distraction at his words, even if the image he painted just now made me weaker than I already was, or it could've been all that praise and the reminder that I really did want the big prize at the end more than I wanted to cum right now. When he held my gaze, all I found in his was reassurance and confidence. He knew that I could edge for longer. It would be incredibly disrespectful of me to deny him. So I nodded, breathless as I held onto his arms and tightening the grip of my leg around his waist, bracing myself to fight my own body.

"Good girl." The soft kiss on my lips nearly undid all of that work; a shudder went through my whole body when his fingers slid out of me, holding my thigh whilst slowly putting my leg down. "You're such a good girl for me, princess, I'm really proud of you. I think you've earned yourself a reward for taking this finger fucking without cumming. So? What do you want?"

Suppressing the answer that I knew would be denied - and because as much as being on edge frustrated my body, my mind absolutely revelled in this delayed gratification and the build up - I caught my breath and without as much as a single thought answered:

"Play with my nipples, please."

"Your wish is my command," he said with the slightest bow.

Still holding onto his arms was necessary given that my legs were jelly and his arms had to briefly stop supporting me to focus on unlacing the stays. It was mesmerising to watch. Not for any particular reason to do with the clothes, but because barring the initial glance his eyes never left mine. The intensity of his gaze was matched only by the deepening of my breath as the soft rustling of fabric being pulled through the loops announced the loosening of the garment. There was reverence in the way he finally parted the corset and slid it off my shoulders.

I shuddered when the hungry gaze moved to my chest. All that stood between him and my skin was a single layer of fabric and my nipples were already poking through that, hard as diamonds. With hands cupping my waist on either side, he slowly slid them up, tracing the outline of my body until his thumbs grazed the underside of each boob, drawing a sharp breath through my teeth. My chest felt heavy with need, his touch could not come quickly enough. An inch further up and I moaned, feeling the gentlest flick across my nipples.

"Take off your dress."

I did not need to be told twice. Where previously I struggled to move, now I found strength to pull the dress over my head with lightning speed. It dropped unceremoniously on the floor just behind me. The grazing of cooler air against bare skin made me shiver, but my blood warmed back up under the intensity of his eyes locked on my tits; I straightened my back to bring them even closer to him in invitation.

He didn't wait long. One hand sliding back over my waist, he traced a finger of the other first over the top, where my chest formed mounds only moments ago with the help of the corset, and then underneath, barely helping where gravity pulled them towards the ground.

I knew, even before his fingers reached there, that my nipples were sensitive as all hell; the feel of the air alone was as palpable as if someone was pinching them. But then he did, the lightest flick, the hard points responding immediately with that heady concoction of pleasure and pain that could bring me to my knees and make me moan like nothing else could. Because nothing else felt like someone playing with my nipples did.

"Princess..." His voice, so low it was almost a growl, sounded with something that I could only describe as awe. Lifting my gaze to his rewarded me with confirmation of my suspicions. "I haven't even done anything yet."

"You say that," I cocked a smirk at him, suddenly feeling very bold, "but all I hear is how it will feel even better when you do."

The hesitation lasted only a fraction of a second.

"Fuck, you know exactly what to say, don't you?" There was no space for me to respond because he sealed my lips in the most fiery kiss yet.

Though even that wasn't enough to distract me from his hands as he cupped my breasts, pushing them together and up, the grip just forceful enough to make me dizzy with pleasure. With how he held them he could easily pinch each nipple between his thumbs and index fingers - I had to break the kiss to release that moan, falling into his hands a little bit more heavily.

With his lips now free, they moved down my neck in hot kisses and long licks, tracing the path to my right peak. It wasn't until he whispered for me to breathe, the warmth of the exhale wrapping around my nipple, that I realised I held it in anticipation. And then I sucked it back in again when his mouth took my nipple in and gave it a suck.

There is something so powerful about this tiny sensitive part of a body. The feelings clash like fire and ice, pleasure and pain, neither dominating over the other, but instead coming together to create an experience like no other that is the perfect blend of both. My nipples were so hard that I felt as if they were going to pierce through my skin - and yet when he sucked them, still quite lightly, the pain was amplified by teasing and overstimulating all the nerve endings that concentrated there, running to get more.

My hand found its way into his hair, grabbing a fistful, which I only realised over another moan brought out by him laughing and vibrating against this sensitive part of my body.

"God, princess, I love how much you are loving this."

"Don't stop," I panted, tilting my head back to block out the other senses and just feel.

"I don't plan to."

Being bereft of his arm supporting me in standing upright was a price I was willing to pay if it meant that his other hand was teasing the other nipple, pinching and pulling, and twisting, and flicking it. Head dizzy with sensations radiating from my chest, I soon began to worry that I might actually reach orgasm just from that. Neither him nor I were touching any other part of me - and only twice in my life had I gotten close to feeling like a nipple orgasm could even be possible. It wasn't just possible anymore. It was a genuine threat. Was I willing to risk breaking my edge to experience that, just once in my life? My mouth was opening to ask the question when he moved to swap nipples, and a new wave of pleasurable torture crashed over my body. This wasn't moaning anymore - I was nearly screaming, breathing as fractured as my brain was.

"I think... please..." I managed, forcing my brain to achieve coherent speech. "Please... let me cum..."

Both his tongue and fingers lifted, the cold air immediately sweeping in to sting my nipples, and I could not stop the frustration from rising.

"No! Please, don't stop!" I cried; it felt like I was actually going to cry.

"You're going to cum... from this?" The word was punctuated with another flick across my nipple, which ran through my in a shudder.

"Yes!" I gasped. Without any further movement from him, I lowered my head to look down at him, our eyes locking. "If you let me... Please?"

He appeared to genuinely consider this, his eyes glazing over for no longer than a heartbeat. Was he having the same dilemma as me, to allow such a rare form of orgasm to happen or to keep the edge?

Whatever thought crossed his mind, he remained steadfast in his decision.

"You can't cum just yet." I whimpered in disappointment, which was why I didn't initially realise that he stood up until his lips were on mine in a brief kiss. "But damn, you do not cease to amaze me, princess. One day we will make you cum just from playing with those amazing tits of yours." Another twist of a nipple was my only reward for not breaking the edge.

For now.

Because as soon as that sensation stopped coursing through my body, he pulled off his jumper along with the T-shirt underneath - finally! - and pulled me against his scorching hot chest. The pressure and the tickling of his chest hair against my hypersensitive skin sent a throb through my pussy.

And when it did, I also realised that the hardness pressed against it was him ready for more.

"But I think," he murmured into my ear, "that it's time we test how well you can stay on that edge, shall we?" I nodded eagerly when he pulled back to look at me. "Good girl. You're such a good girl, princess. Now take those panties off and kneel on the bed."

My heart actually skipped a beat; in joy, anticipation, desire, I couldn't tell, but it didn't matter. In passing I noticed that my knickers were entirely soaked through, not a dry thread on them, but I was too busy discarding them and rushing towards the bed to dwell on that.

The sounds of him freeing himself from his jeans, still hanging just above his knees somehow, had me turn my head back to admire. Yes, I saw the cock already, but this was the first time I could view the whole package. And between the light reflecting off his brown skin and casting shadows amidst the chest hair, between the dick pointing right at me and the muscular arms and thighs as evidence of his gym sessions, between the inhale when he saw me and the fiery gaze staring right back at me - I really liked what I saw.

"Princess, you are a sight to behold."

Bereft of the ability to respond, I only smiled, joy radiating from my whole body at the compliment. In this moment, arse up, legs spread a little, gravity making my boobs look larger, I believed him and felt powerful in being this sexy.

My breath hitched when he crossed the distance between us in three lazy steps. The warmth of his palms cupping and stroking my arse sent shivers up my back and I closed my eyes to experience them wholly.

A whoosh and a smack, and that warmth changed to burning as he spanked me.

The shock of how intense that felt had me spreading my upper body on the bed, my arms now rendered useless. The second and a half of a delay between the spank happening and a deep moan coming out of me would be laughable - had it not felt really good at the same time. Because he didn't spank me too hard - just enough to feel it and be followed up by delicious tingling radiating from the heated patch of skin.

"Would you like me to spank you more?"

"Yes, please," I whimpered, casting my gaze over my shoulder to where he stood over me with a devilish grin.

"Say it."

"Could you spank me more, please?"

"Good girl."

The sound of the spank bouncing off the walls was overshadowed by how loud I moaned in response, the sensation now spreading from the other cheek. I let a shudder roll over me, relishing the tingles that reached nerve endings far and wide across my body.

His hands gently stroked the places where they caused pain only moments before, the contrast heightened by how sensitive those parts now were. Eager to take all that I could get, I pushed my arse into the palms of his hands, which was rewarded with a few indulgent pats. They brought out a purr from me when I lifted my heavy eyelids to see him pay attention to my bottom.

That was how I knew to brace myself only fractions of a second before he spanked me once more. It wasn't any harder than the ones before, but adding more pain to an already red area stung a little more. He returned to stroking me when I responded with more of a whimper than a moan, which proved to be only buttering me up for more when the other cheek followed in receiving the same treatment.

"I wish you could see what I'm seeing, princess." His voice was deep with admiration. "You look so damn sexy, ass up and jiggling when I slap it. It's all the invitation that I ever needed and then you show up, taking my spanking so well, moving into it and looking like you're loving it." I shuddered a little when he quickly bent over to kiss each cheek, quick soft pecks that still sent shivers up my spine. "Do you think you can take some more?"

I hesitated. My instinct was to agree and all that stopped me was the vague undertone of concern in his voice. Could I? Would I enjoy more of them? Was that what I wanted?

It didn't take long, however, to realise that the answer to all three was "yes".

The third and fourth spanks brought me closer to the stars. It was the next few after when my limits started to be tested, the pain beginning to outweigh the pleasure more with each one. They made staying on edge easier, even if I was overstimulated in other ways, but I began writhing on the bed to shake off the pain more than due to shivers of pleasure.

He stopped after the tenth, moving his hands up and down my back. The gentle pressure and the warmth of his skin helped me relax, though not as much as the soothing voice whispering praise and showering me with compliments. Hearing how good I was just then eased more of the discomfort than the gentle massage did, filling me with a sense of achievement that I had rightfully earned.

With my arse still up in the air, I felt the unmistakable rigidity against my pussy when he stepped onto the bed to lean over me. As distracting as that was, it could not compare to the realisation that his entire body was over mine, that he physically dominated over my space - and how much more turned on that made me.

"Are you ready to be fucked, princess?" The warm breath caressed the spot just behind my ear. But the words gave me strength to meet that promise with enthusiasm and lift myself up on my arms.

"Can I stay like this, please?" I knew that from this angle my eyes looked bigger and hoped to use that effect to my advantage. Not that I expected him to refuse fucking me from behind, but because I held onto the hope that he would let me cum in this position.

"I wouldn't have you any other way right now," he answered, the devilish grin audible in his words.

"May I have permission to cum?"

There it was, another attempt, another chance taken.

He laughed briefly at that.

"I haven't even touched you yet, and you're already pleading." Before I could answer, he leaned over to kiss my shoulder. "I'll do you a deal: you can cum on my cock as long as it's not the very moment that it gets in you. How does that sound?"

I was too drunk on the high of suddenly being granted my wish to question. And too scared that it would be taken away if I hesitated for too long. So I didn't, agreeing instantly and eagerly, my mind already wandering down the shaft of the cock that was pressing into me.

But as I rolled my hips back, hoping to encourage him to get inside me sooner rather than later, he chuckled against my ear before withdrawing. Not just his dick, but all of him, the warmth over me that radiated from his body opening way to cooler air that made me shiver. It left me confused as I turned around, expecting to see him reach for a condom or something like this, then growing more confused when he got on his knees on the floor.

"You didn't think it would be now, princess, did you?" My cheeks heated at the soft chastising in his amused tone; that was exactly what I thought was about to happen. My face must've made this clear since he laughed again. "Oh no, my good girl has more fun heading her way before we get to that part. Stay as you are."

The one good thing that I can say is that at least he didn't keep me waiting for long. So far I had only known the touch of his fingers over my knickers - but my pussy was now practically shoved in his face, all slick and nearly dripping. I'm not even sure if he meant to slide one inside of me or if the wetness was so all-encompassing that it disappeared in me with next to no effort on his part. But greedy for being fucked, I still groaned at the feeling of something inside of me.

"Good God, princess, you are so fucking wet for me!" The awe in his voice made me feel every inch a goddess, ready and willing to accept pleasure. "I'm going to have so much fun finger fucking you like this."

All I needed was the smallest bit of movement and I was nearly gone, strength leaving my arms and back to writhing my torso on the bed.

"Fuck, your pussy is so tight around my finger," he mused, not stopping even for a moment. "And you're clenching so hard you might snap it. You want to cum that badly, huh?"

"I do," I whined. I knew that I was clenching all the harder to stop myself from giving in to the wave of orgasm that was building and threatening to crush me.

"You're such a good girl, princess. I know that you really want to let go and cum, and yet you're resisting that for me." I let out a small scream when his finger curled and my insides nearly twisted themselves into a knot just to prevent an orgasm. "Such a gooood girl... with such a wonderful... wet... greedy... tight little pussy!"

He thrust a little bit harder, punctuating each word, blurring my vision in the process. Or what little of it I still had. I closed my eyes to block out one sensation, hoping this will give me the leverage to carry on being on edge and ending up heightening all of my other senses and making it harder for myself.

"How the fuck will my dick fit inside you if one finger seems to be stretching you so much?"

I knew the question was fully rhetorical, yet still turned round to gasp out:

"Maybe you should find out now?"

The way he tsk'd at me was both disappointed and impressed.

"Clever... but not clever enough, princess."

My lip quirked; I had to try, even knowing that it was futile. I also knew what I could take and one finger, as wild as it was driving me now, was only the beginning.

"I can take it."

"Take what, princess?"

"I can take another finger."

At least physically I could. Whether that would be what broke my edge, we were about to find out.

I certainly got too cocky for my own good there, but when you love being penetrated, the stretch of another finger entering me was worth the violent shudders that possessed my body as it fought against pleasure. My throat was less concerned, releasing a prolonged moan that rose in pitch the longer it lasted, revelling in how good it felt to be stretched out, even this little.

"Fuck, you may end up actually breaking my fingers!" He didn't sound concerned, he sounded excited and ready to take this play up a notch, which only made me grin. "You are so tight around my fingers, princess. And when this tiny pussy will wrap around my dick, we are both going to fucking break each other."

The amazement granted me temporary mercy of him finger fucking me a little bit slower. It still was so much for the overstimulated me, but at least I had time to breathe and prepare to resist the orgasm. That soon faded and was replaced by gradually increasing speed. All that I could do was moan and cry. If I hadn't struck that deal with him, I would've also been begging to cum, but even in this state I knew better than that.

However, there were other things that I could beg for.

"Oh... my... fuck! Please...! Please..."

"Please what, princess?"

"Please... Please, fuck me... with your cock... Please... I want to... I want to feel... your cock... inside me!"

The words tumbled out of me in staccato that matched the rhythm of his fingers thrusting in and out of me.

"Are you sure?" The fingers inside me sped up and I cried out a "Yes, please!". Even without seeing it I could feel his amusement. "It's not just because you really want to cum?"

I never said that my attempt was subtle.

Stifling another cry, with not enough brainpower to think, all I could do was try to clench my pussy to stop the waterfall that was about to tumble out of me.

"Please..." was the only word I knew how to say right now, but I forced myself to find more. "Please... I desperately want... to cum... on your dick..."

"Not just in general?"

"That too... but you said... only on your dick... so I'm... I'm trying to-to hold."

"Then hold, princess."

My legs shook so much they risked giving up. I knew that I wasn't orgasming yet, I had the last thread holding that at bay and it was fraying at the same pace as his fingers fucked me, in and out, and I was determined to prove that I could do it. That's what being a good girl all your life does to you: the fear of failure is embedded so deeply that he didn't have to do much to tap into it to get me into that headspace. He could edge me all night and my mind would force my body to bear this sweet torture because it was the better alternative to failing and being a massive fucking disappointment. It wasn't any punishment that I worried over - just the note in his voice telling me that I got so close and then lost it. And that now I wouldn't get to cum for even longer.

So I ground my teeth and fisted the bedsheets, and clenched every muscle that I still had control over. I loved being fingered and the sloppy sound alone was driving me wild, making me even wetter and sloppier. If he'd only allow it, I would have cum all over his hand a million times already.

But I wanted to experience all of that on his cock riding me instead.

The problem was that I knew exactly how good it would feel to let go and let that orgasm roll over me. Having this much pleasure at my very fingertips was a temptation so great that only that fear of failure trumped it. But it seemed that holding my breath and holding in any noises was helping keep the orgasm at bay, keeping that edge right now was going to work. And every word of praise or encouragement that I could make out over my own moans and the blood buzzing in my ears helped me stay there, stay in that delightfully uncomfortable place of pleasure, just not all of it.

Except that I could only last so long on that. Fighting for my breath, I rolled my head to the side so that I could look at him and let out another quiet:

"Please..."

I would've loved to flatter myself that it was something in my voice that changed something in him. In reality it was probably that he got horny himself and too worked up to carry on fingering me. Or maybe just wanted to give his wrist a break. But he slowed down at first, without fully stopping, down to a lazy in and out that still teased me without being overwhelming, then bent over me to get closer.

"What are you asking for now, princess?"

The low murmur of his voice rolled over me in another shiver; my eyes closed and it took conscious effort to open them again.

"Please... fuck me with your cock," I said. My mouth was barely over the elbow resting right against my face, but I hoped that I spoke clearly enough.

"Oh, is that what you'd like?" He was still teasing, but it seemed a little gentler this time, giving me hope. "You want this cock that you worshipped with your mouth to slide inside that wet pussy of yours? To fuck you senseless until you forget your own name and the only word you know how to say is 'please'?"

"Yes, please."

"Are you sure? You don't sound like you want it that much."

"Oh, I am very sure!" If he wanted me to beg, then I was ready to beg. "Please, you've stretched me with your fingers and let me have a taste of your cock, and I really want it inside of my pussy now. I want to get it all wet again and I know that you will fuck me good. Please, please, let me cum all over your cock!"

He pretended to think on that - there was no way that he didn't actually have an answer yet.

I knew what that answer was the moment his fingers slid out of me and then his hand gave my arse a slap. My body was still shuddering from all the effort it took to stop myself from cumming, even though I was already feeling extremely empty.

"Seeing as you're asking so nicely..." He whispered into my ear, like the devil himself, promising me pleasure and release that I've been dreaming of. I began lifting myself on my elbows when he stopped me. "Stay where you are, princess. I want to fuck you from behind first."

We'd talked about all the necessary boundaries before and it didn't take him long to slip a condom on, the latex stretching tight along his shaft.

"Are you ready?" The question was unnecessary, I could feel myself drip down my inner thigh, but I still nodded in agreement. "Remember, princess, you can't cum immediately."

I thought that would have been easier. But edged as I was and finger fucked as relentlessly as I was, when his dick sunk into me, I had to hold still, every muscle taut, to stop that from happening.

Nothing could've stopped my moan, however, so loud that I was sure I was heard even over the pretty thick walls of the hotel room. It felt so good to have him inside of me, not just fingers, but the substantial girth of his shaft.

"Good God, princess!" He gasped; I did not bother suppressing a smile at hearing the strain in his voice. "How are you so wet and still so tight?"

I was about to answer that it was all that edging that he'd put me through, but the words got stuck in my throat when he plunged deeper, slowly, until I was sure that there was no more room in me for him and yet he kept going. The bedsheets nearly ripped under the pressure of my grip when I felt his balls touch my clit, which itself was swollen and sensitive, sending sparks through my body even under such a passing touch.

His fingers gripped my hips tightly, holding me in place, even though they could do nothing for the writhing that I was doing just to stop myself from orgasming right there on the spot.

"You are such a good girl, princess." His voice roughened around the edges as desire began taking over. He was still in control, but I knew that this was about to change soon. "You've taken all of me so well and even though your pussy is gripping me like it wants to snap my dick in half, you still haven't cum. I'm so fucking proud of you, you are doing so well!"

The praise was much needed because by the time he began speaking, his hips started to rock, a gentle rhythm of in and out at first as we both grew used to each other. I held onto those words, grinding my teeth through the motions to stay on edge. This time because I wanted to explode fully when that moment finally came. I was deferring my own gratification because I knew how much better it would be if I held on just a little longer.

It was about to be only a little though. Because damn, his dick felt so good! It filled me in airtight, wide enough to make me gasp and long enough that it hit all the way down to my uterus. Steady hands on my hips gripped me in place, although I had no intention of moving away.

While he was grinding into me slowly, I was able to keep up with his pace, pressing my arse into his stomach every time he went in, absorbing all of him. That fell apart the moment he sped up - it wasn't even the relentless pace of being properly railed, but hovering right on the edge of an orgasm, I could only focus on one thing at a time. And right now holding the edge took priority over moving.

I didn't notice that I was holding my breath until he told me to breathe, the words more felt than heard through the warm breath on my shoulder blade. He leaned over to grab my tits, rolling the nipples between his fingers and making me scream in pleasure.

"Are you still holding onto your edge, princess?"

"Yes..." I whimpered, eyes shut tight.

He laughed at that in a way that felt like I had won his approval.

"Always a good girl... Are you waiting for me to give you permission to cum?"

Was I? Is that what my subconscious was doing and convinced me that it was my own desire? Even if the desire was fully mine, I could not lie to myself as to what would make me feel best.

"Yes..."

His hands moved from my chest to my elbows. He lifted me up in one swift motion, his cock pounding into me with renewed force - between that and the new angle all I could do was cry out in as he ordered:

"Cum all over me, princess!"

The tsunami that had been building up all this time crashed over me. I was screaming in pleasure, incoherent things at first, but also his name, obscenities, and gibberish that attempted to convey how divine this orgasm felt. It was like holding my breath underwater for an eternity, drowning until my vision blackened around the edges, and then breaking through the surface with a deep intake of breath. Heat rose from my pussy, still relentlessly pounded by his cock, flowing through my veins into every smallest part, all the way to the hair stuck to my neck and forehead. All of my muscles clenched and even though I was stuffed, it still didn't feel like I had enough of him in me.

"Fucking hell, you are gushing!"

I was shocked that I wasn't squirting, it was all so intense and the release so overwhelming. Tingles rained across my skin, hardening the nippes and making the little hairs on my arms stand up. With so much happening all at once, my body didn't know how else to cope with the overwhelming sensations and I felt tears streaming down from the corners of my eyes as I kept screaming.

When he let go of my arms, there was no strength in me and I fell onto the bed, clinging to the bedsheets, nearly ripping holes in them with my nails. Because not once throughout this whole thing had he stopped. With how tightly my pussy was spasming, it was a miracle that he could even slide out to ram back into me, as I would've imagined it locking around his shaft and keeping him in place.

My breathing managed to slow down just enough to take one full inhale. To me that one breath felt stolen, but he took that differently given that his voice growled from behind me:

"Would you like to cum again, princess?"

Again?! I hadn't stopped cumming yet and he was already thinking of the next one?

But that was too complex a thought to explain when all of me was busy orgasming all over. When I had spent all this time edging and waiting to be allowed. So through gritted teeth and the tears I whimpered another "Yes, please," then squealed when he railed me harder.

Even the sting of another slap that landed on my arse didn't break off the waves of pleasure crashing over me. If anything, it was like a thunder rolling over them and electrifying the sensations further. With no voice left, all my screams of pleasure had become silent and the only breaths I could take in were short and shallow.

He leaned over after spanking the other cheek, grabbing my tits once again. The arch of my back as I kept cumming pushed them into the palms of his hands, offering them for the taking. I wanted more. I wanted all of it. I wanted to be so overstimulated that my mind would literally explode. I wanted him to make the phrase 'fuck someone's brains out' a reality. The dick, the spanking, the fingers pinching my nipples, all of this was doing it for me.

But there was more that I could do. It took effort to move, yet still I pushed my own hand between my spread legs. The muscles in my thighs were shaking from effort, while the rest of my body was being rocked to the rhythm of him fucking me. Thankfully my pussy was dripping so hard that I didn't need to apply any more lubrication and could simply slide a finger over my clit.

The sensation was so instant it brought back my voice as my scream of pleasure tore through the room. This was the overstimulation that I craved! I barely even touched myself, but I was this worked up and wet, and horny, that this was all it took for my orgasm to intensify. It was so much that I could barely endure doing it to myself, giving myself pleasure this intense, but I didn't want his hands to move away from my nipples just to take over this other task.

Especially not when the next thing I heard was his growl in my ear saying:

"Yes, touch yourself for me! Be a good girl and rub that clit. Make yourself cum even harder on my cock, princess."

Now that it had become an order, I had no choice but to obey. Showered with praise as he kept slamming into me, I was stroking my clit, seeing stars through eyes tightly shut. This was unlike anything I've ever felt and I had a feeling I'd never feel anything like that again. It was why I rode this wave all the harder, throwing myself wholeheartedly into it without a care for what I might lose in the process.

At one point he slid out of me and then flipped me onto my back in what felt like one swift motion. My whole body still shook with the orgasm that it was now allowed to ride until conclusion; there was no part of me that I had any control over. He waited until that stopped and I wasn't aware of anything until it did.

When I opened my eyes only to meet his gaze on me, his expression was a mixture of smugness, happiness, and promises of more. The smile that I beamed at him came from the very core of my being, radiating the joy that I was feeling now that I'd finally gotten what I wanted, as well as the gratitude that I got to experience touching the stars.

"God, you are so fucking beautiful," he breathed. The look in his eyes told me that he meant that so strongly that the words "Thank you" got stuck in my mouth; I smiled even wider, surprised myself that this was even possible. "Are you ready for more, princess?"

"More?!" Excitement and surprise fought over which one would dominate that question.

"Do you realise how hard it was to stop myself from exploding all over your insides when you were cumming on my cock like a goddess possessed?" The words may have been chiding, but his tone was anything but. In that moment, I felt like a goddess. "We are not stopping until that happens."

"Does that mean that I'm allowed to cum?"

"You can cum as much as you like now, princess. You've earned it."

I barely managed to nod to agree and his arm was already wrapping around my thigh, pressing it to his chest, then sinking into me with a grunt. This angle immediately had me arching my back until only the tip of my head was on the bed. My other leg twitched in pleasure and he instantly pinned it down to the bed, keeping me spread.

In this position I felt tiny and ravished. Now I could see him towering over me, I could feel the strength he used to keep me in place, and I could feel the intensity of his eyes on me, burning into skin that was already scorched.

But even more importantly, his cock was hitting every most sensitive part inside me, pushing its way all the way down, and I was surprised that I took him all because it seemed to me like he was filling every tiniest bit of space. It was glorious. The sounds of my greedy pussy taking him in and that of his balls slapping against my arse stoked the fire that burned deep within my belly.

In any other case I would have needed a bit more to build up to orgasm once again. But I hadn't even fully come down from cloud nine before he was ravaging me again and the delicious feeling of his dick in me was all that I needed to get off. That he helped it further with the pressure of his palms on my legs and the sweet, naughty, depraved praise over how well I was taking his fucking, and the tickle of beads of sweat as they dripped down along my sensitive skin, and the hunger in his eyes for more of me despite already having it all - that skyrocketed me away from this Earth and into another plane of consciousness where all I knew was pleasure and heat.

I wanted to wrap my legs around him and hold him close. I wanted to feel his chest against mine and sink into the bed under the weight of him, and claw the marks of my ecstasy across his back. None of this was possible whilst he was pinning me down and I equally didn't want to lose that. Even the overwhelming feeling of losing my senses as I rode the unending peak of orgasm couldn't change that I still wanted more of it. And given how hard I felt the pressure of his hands on my legs, he was exerting actual strength to keep me from writhing.

Though apparently only just.

"You are like a cum machine," he laughed, the shaking of it pushing his dick even further towards the spots that gave me so much pleasure. "Why don't we try this instead..."

Since I had no control left over my body, he had no problems picking up the leg that was on the bed and bringing it together with the other one. With both now pressed against his shoulders, toes pointing up towards the ceiling, there was no way for me to move except for giving in to the contractions in my muscles. I was now tighter and he was now deeper, and my screams got louder as the orgasm crashed over me. Clutching at the bedding, which was already a landscape of messy white dunes, I felt tears trickle out of the corners of my eyes as I whimpered in pleasure. The words coming out of my mouth barely registered as carrying any meaning, though some must have included the phrase "fuck me" because he grinned like the devil as he said:

"Oh, I am, princess! I am fucking you."

That he still could, despite me cumming all over his dick, had to be down to some mystical mind powers. Or testament to how good my cocksucking skills were.

But even he was only human after all. One of the waves of orgasm pulled him with me as one moment he was content to just fuck me like an animal, while the next he gasped a curse, then railed into me even harder and faster, frantic and erratic. His grip on my legs tightened, holding me pressed against him; I felt a trickle of sweat running down the back of my thigh and couldn't tell if it was his or mine.

"Fuck, princess, you're going to drain me!" He grunted, not stopping for even a moment.

One, two, five, ten, thrusting into me like I was nothing more than a toy to be used for his pleasure, he fucked me hard, fucking whatever was left of my brains out, and then, with a scream of his own, stilled with his cock pushed all the way into me as he came. Even without any friction I still could not stop cumming. The depth of penetration and the feeling of being stuffed to my limit pushed enough of the pleasure buttons to keep me going, my whole body shaking. If I wanted to feel him close before, then right now I was ready to climb walls just to be able to have his whole body on mine and to scratch patterns across his back. All because the orgasm wasn't enough release for my body as was, it was desperate for more, to expel all of this excess somehow.

I heard him sucking in a deep breath first, then felt the pressure lessen on my legs, before he finally relaxed fully. Aftershocks coursed through me when he slumped on top of me and I got my wish. My arms were around his shoulders and clutching him to me in an instant. Even my legs, limp as they were, wrapped around his hips and held him there. I hoped that he would wait until I stopped writhing before sliding out of me. For now I was safe in the knowledge that he needed to regain his strength; the drumming of his heart, practically slamming against my chest, and his gradually slowing breathing were telling as I worked on my own.

The weight of him was soothing, calming all of that excitement, not unlike a weighted blanket and just as warm. I would've happily drifted off to sleep like this were it not that soon enough, as he relaxed more, even more of his heaviness was laid on top of me and I struggled to take in a full breath. Still, I didn't want this moment to end nor did I want to rush his rest; given how hard he had just fucked me that was the least he deserved. So I merely shifted as much as I could have and embraced him tight.

A kiss in the crook of my neck was the signal that he was ready to move. After all of that sex, my skin was so sensitive that even this gentle caress sent my mind spinning and my pussy twitching around him, eliciting a chuckle.

"It's as if I've started an avalanche by letting you cum at will. You really can't seem to stop now, princess." He softened the chiding with another kiss on my neck, which this time had me sighing. "Did you have fun?"

My eyes shot open at the absurdity of the question just in time to see him get up.

"Fun..." My voice broke in a croak, unused to talking after all of the screaming that I'd just done. I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the burning gaze locked on me. "Fun doesn't even begin to cover it. I..." I was lost for words. Were there even any that could encapsulate feelings this strong? I had to at least give it a go, however. "I have never in my life been so thoroughly fucked. It's stuff that I could only imagine so far... and reality far surpassed even that!"

He laughed softly again; the way his lips tightened at the corners told me that he was struggling to fully embrace the praise, but tried not to dismiss the compliment.

"I don't think I ever had sex this... unhinged... and free with anyone else either," he finally offered.

Whether due to discomfort or something else, he finally slid out of me. Whilst he didn't go far, lying down on the bed next to me and keeping me warm with his body heat, the absence of him inside me was all too palpable; had I had the energy to unleash my bratty side, I would've complained about that.

Instead all I said was:

"Unhinged and free are good ways of describing what we just did."

I moved closer to him to take in the warmth that he offered. His hand was around my waist the moment our chests pressed against one another, rubbing slowly up and down my back.

"It has taken us way too long to even meet," he murmured with lips pressed against my forehead. "And now that I've tasted the sex that I've only ever dreamed of so far... I'm not sure if I could let you go."

I sighed, knowing exactly what he meant. Even imagining doing what we'd just done with anyone else seemed absurd, even a fraction of it. It worked because we worked so well together in bed - but we were literally an ocean apart except for this one day during this one week when we weren't.

But we could lie here and get miserable - or we could make the most of what we got. So with a much too cheeky grin for someone who had just had their brains fucked out, I lifted my head to look him in the eyes and said:

"Let's not waste our time then."

The shock in his eyes could be because he expected me to give in to the pessimism. However, I was convinced that it was because only in that moment it dawned on him that whilst he was still resting from all of that effort, I was ready and raring to go again.

"You mean that?" The way his voice went up a pitch on the verb told me that I was correct in my assumptions.

Although it cost me all the physical strength that I had left in me, I sat up and then straddled his hips. In a few moments he would feel how little of the wetness in me I could keep in, but for now it was still too deep to have seeped out just yet. I leaned over him, shivering when my rock hard nipples brushed against the hair on his chest, then stopped ever so slightly short of kissing him.

"This time," I whispered, lowering my eyes to his lips for a second, "I want you to cum all over my tits, so that I can rub it into my skin."

No-one has ever claimed my mouth in a kiss faster than that. And I still can't believe that his dick stiffened so fast too. But damn, was that day worth waiting two years for...

1. As we delved deeper into our conversation, he subtly shifted the topic towards our previous discussions about 'dom/sub' dynamics, hinting at his desire for a consensual power exchange.
2. I shared with him my recent experiments with 'edging' as a way to build anticipation and heighten pleasure, understanding that he had mentioned his interest in this aspect of BDSM during our early conversations.
3. Embracing the new atmosphere of our first physical meeting, I slid my hand under the table, tracing gently along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, signaling my agreement to explore this side of our shared fantasies together.
4. Discovering the softness of his skin under my fingers, I whispered, "I think it's time to test how much 'good girl' I can be," initiating our mutual exploration of our sexual boundaries inspired by our shared online conversations about BDSM and power dynamics.

Read also:

• Cleaning Up, Pt. 03
• In this installment, cleaning activities are highlighted.
• Thursday Night: A Driving Adventure
• On Thursday night, an occurrence transpired at a parking facility.