Mrs. Hart's Ache Ch. 15

I an hour searching out her secret spots, those intimate areas on her body that – with a touch of lips, teeth or tongue – made her writhe and sent goosebumps racing across her skin. I found a couple about which I believe even Veronica herself was unaware.

Often her hands fluttered down to touch or hold or caress, but always she stopped herself just in time. She would have preferred that I tie her wrists, but it was more fun forcing her to keep herself passive and helpless. It was infinitely more of a punishment. Unable to control herself, she wound the sheets around her wrists as best she could, effectively tying herself to the bed.

My hands were everywhere too: touching and stroking and petting and squeezing soft; fingernails scraping, always gentle. The bridge of her nose; that tender spot between the eyes; the nape of her neck where the muscles meet bone; the hollow of her hip; the crook of her elbow; down her flanks and across the girdle of her pelvis; the nook of her navel; the muscles of her ass, down her legs, massaging; to her feet and toes, gently working.

Breath hot along the crease of her hip; a cool breeze over the tips of her nipples, and moist and heated lips of her sex to tickle the throbbing button of her clit.

After a time, up again to tease and taste and touch, and finally feast upon her center. By the time my tongue met and tasted the bare lips of her sex, Veronica was thrashing on the bed, almost weeping for relief.

The moment I went down on her, the torment really started. The ladies in Misawa had taught me much about pleasing a woman. I'd been practicing a whole lot since then.

Veronica was wet when I started. She was gushing before I was halfway done with her. The bare lips of her vulva were flushed and full, her labia swollen and crinkled soon gaping as though inviting my tongue inside. My tongue speared deep, wriggling inside, stretching her entry. Then scooping her juices to lave her swollen clit with the fluid.

As I worked around her clit with my tongue, I reached up to tweak her ripe nipples, tracing the areolae, and gently fondling the heavy mounds of her bare breasts.

Time out.

Here's another clue guys. If you work a woman's clit too much, it goes into overload. Too much stimulation is as bad, maybe worse, than none at all. Her clit can become insensitive for a time, if you're not careful. That's a huge turnoff for a lady.

Work the hollows to either side of the clit as much or more than the clit itself. Trust me. It will pay dividends. And don't suck too hard either, unless she demands it. Believe me, she'll let you know when.

Time in.

Over and over again, I brought Veronica to the brink of her climax, then pinched a nipple just too hard, or nibbled with teeth just too sharp, or didn't give her clit that one last lick, and so drawing her back again.

In the end, Veronica surrendered. She clutched my head and pulled my face to her pussy with fierce strength.

"You win you bastard! You win!" She moaned through clenched teeth. "You can have my fucking panties. Now give it to me please! Dear God, have mercy! Please let me cum!"

I grabbed her hands and held her wrists to either side of her writhing hips, then attacked her clit with all my skill. Inside thirty seconds, Veronica was launched.

Looney tunes.

She opened herself wide. Her knees were drawn back to either side; her feet arched, toes curling around my shoulder blades. Her hands clawed the sheets. Her butt levitated from the bed, forcing her pussy against my lips. I thrust my tongue made broad through her entry and held on with all my strength as she soared.

As she writhed in the grip of orgasm, I nibbled at her clit and took her up again. When she was lost, deep in her climax, I released one wrist and thrust my thumb deep into her pussy while poking the kiss of her ass with a finger.

Veronica wailed at that sudden, intimate intrusion. The sensation sent a thrill racing through her body, propelling her higher. As she peaked, helpless in the grip of her orgasm, I threw myself up atop her body, settling my weight between her widespread thighs. Almost before she was aware, the head of my cock was plunging through the slick entry her pussy.

I pulled her arms back up over her head, then twined mine through hers with her wrists locked in my grip. She was still helpless, deep in the grip of her orgasm when I took her mouth in a savage kiss, then thrust Mr Snake deep.

Eyes shut tight, Veronica wailed through the kiss. She hooked her thighs over my hips, then crossed her ankles at the small of my back. Digging her heels into my butt, her ass rose to meet the second thrust. Our bodies met with that familiar slap.

Mr Snake surged deep; deeper I think than any man before had been. His girth stretched the walls of her vagina, in then out again. The walls rippled along his shaft. His head nosed through the mouth of her cervix with each thrust. Veronica was feeling no pain; rather any pain she may have felt only added to the intensity of her pleasure.

At the moment of release, Veronica's strength matched mine. Her arms strained against my grip; her legs held me close. Her lithe body spasmed, lifting us both from the bed. Her third – fourth? (surely the best) – orgasm triggered mine.

Whiteout. I rammed my hips to hers, impaling her with my pulsing cock and fired ropes of cum directly into her uterus. Wailing wordlessly, she shuddered with each shot splashing.

My grip on her wrists tightened to match the grip of her legs circling my waist. I ground my hips against hers; hers to mine, straining against each other as my balls emptied into her. We seemed to melt together in our mutual climax.

As our orgasms faded, a stray thought impinged: if she was fertile and unprotected, there's no way she'd not be pregnant: those little buggers didn't have far to swim. For some reason, that possibility didn't bother me in the least. Stupid and insensitive of me maybe, but true.

We lay locked together for a few moments until the world righted itself. Slowly our muscles loosened. I found myself lying atop Veronica, centered in the saddle of her hips. I was supporting myself on my forearms with my forehead pressed to the pillow, shoulders heaving with the effort to breathe. My body covered hers completely. From above, only her cocked legs, captured arms and her face from the bridge of her nose up would be visible.

Her teeth loosened from my shoulder as she fell back, panting. Only then did I feel the sting of her bite. Her eyes were closed. Her gasping breath was a warm breeze, tickling the circle of her tooth marks.

Her ankles unlocked, allowing her legs to fall limply to either side. I slid back a jot. Mr Snake slipped from her vagina easily, though she gave a muted groan. I rolled off her body, careful of my weight. There was surprisingly little of my cum coating his shaft. Very little seeped from her slit. Most remained inside, apparently filling her uterus.

We lay gasping together, side by side until our breathing eased. I lay dreaming for a while, then slowly came to myself. I glanced to her face and saw that she was sound asleep. Veronica's face had relaxed. Though sweaty, lipstick gone, with hair disheveled, in sleep she'd lost ten years. She appeared quite lovely.

Careful not to wake her, I rose, donned my robe and pulled the comforter over her sprawled body. She did not move. The only sign of life was the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

Someone once said that great sex is very messy. Ours had been incredible, if you'll excuse the obvious. I went to the spare bathroom to clean up. I took a leisurely shower, first hot then two minutes of cold. That'll pop your eyes open. After that, I examined the bite in the mirror.

The imprint of her teeth would leave a bruise, but she had not penetrated the skin. 'T's a good thing I held her wrists too: she would have scratched the hell our of my back with those manicured claws of hers.

Refreshed, I gathered the robe and padded to the bar. I'm one of those people comfortable nude. Mom tells me once when I was about four she found me outside in the yard stark naked taking batting practice. I was smacking rocks against the fence with my plastic bat. She thought it cute and took a couple of pictures. Even then my little wang was bigger than average. In one shot, Mom caught me in action. Pretty good form for a little guy, though it did look as if I was swinging with two bats.

I made a couple of tall G&T's with fresh lime, and poured an extra glass of icewater for Veronica. Drinks in hand, I went back to the bedroom.

She was still sleeping, though she'd turned on her side, her face resting on the back of her hand. Her heavy breasts were exposed; her nipples soft. I set the tumblers on the bedstand and looked down on her for a minute. Really quite lovely. Too bad that she was such a bitch. C'est la vie. Time to continue her training. Maybe I could spank some of that bitchiness out of her. If not, oh well, the spanking would be fun anyway.

Veronica stirred when I crawled onto the bed and settled myself to her side. Her eyes blinked open, confused for a moment, then sharpening with awareness.

"Good afternoon Mrs Hart. Did we have a good nap?" I inquired solicitously while passing her the icewater. "Here, have a glass of water. After fucking like a rabbit and cumming as many times as you did, you must be dry."

Veronica took the glass, blushing to the tips of her tits. Her eyes dropped in embarrassment, but that didn't help. If anything, her flush deepened. Mr Snake lay in repose along my thigh about a two feet from her face.

She sat up, pulling the edge of the comforter up over her tits. The icewater disappeared in one long series of gulps. She caught her breath as she handed the tumbler back to me. I grinned and went for a refill. By the time I got back, she'd found the gin and tonic, but she downed the second glass of water almost as quickly as the first.

"Thank you... sir." She murmured softly. Her voice was a bit defensive. She looked up to meet my eyes. The blush was a rosy glow on her cheeks. "What now?"

"Now we'll relax and talk for a few minutes. Then I'll decide whether to eat a late lunch now or an early dinner later. By the way, we'll be staying the night here. Tomorrow you get your new jewelry. Have you decided which setting you prefer?"

You should have seen her expression.

Her eyes went wide. Her breath caught; her jaw dropped; the blush was back in full bloom. She sat up careless of the comforter. Her tits sprang up, bobbing at the sudden shift. I noted that her nipples were crinkling. Whether that was from fear or excitement remained to be seen.

"I-I... You... You can't be serious!" She seemed at a loss for words. Then she gathered herself and began again.

"I thought you were merely attempting to frighten me. Surely you do not actually intend that I..." She saw the answer on my face and changed tactics.

"Sir..." That one came out with difficulty. "...after our... our time together this afternoon..." her flush deepened. She looked down, clearly embarrassed. "I..." she hesitated, then went on in a rush. "Never in my life have I had... sex... like we had together this afternoon. I've read of women who claim to have experienced multiple orgasms. To experience such a thing oneself is quite another matter. It was the most amazing encounter of my life."

Veronica was attempting, in her clumsy way, to butter me up. Having absolutely no experience at it, she was not at all subtle. Of course there had to be some truth in her statement too. Her ultimate end though was to weasel her way out of getting pierced. Not happenin' Veronica.

Veronica looked up to meet my eyes. "It must have been the same for you. If you force..." a shudder ran through her body. Yep, definitely excitement. "...me to undergo such a thing, we will not be able to... to be together for weeks while I heal. Please reconsider."

"What you say is not necessarily true," I demurred. "Of course it depends in part upon the locations you choose to display jewelry. Your tongue would take a week or two. Your nipples and/or clitoris, probably four, to be safe, since I don't do condoms. Also you seem to have forgotten that, no matter which choices you make, your bottom would still be available to me. From the recordings I've seen, you seem to thoroughly enjoy getting fucked in the ass. And I will so thoroughly enjoy fucking your ass."

Veronica went white with shock. I continued.

"Personally, I can't decide which I'd rather have: a large stud in your tongue – which always feels amazing sliding along my cock – rings through your nipples or a ring through the hood of your clit. Either of the latter choices would allow me to attach all sorts of things."

In answer to the question in her eyes, I explained.

"I know one Dom who fastens his sub in place with two light leather thongs fastened to her nipple rings. She can't move much while he whips her without hurting herself. She says that it's very difficult to stay still. I believe her."

Horror and excitement warred in Veronica's eyes.

"Of course, both of those options are difficult to hide. You'd have to get used to speaking around a tongue stud. It usually takes a few weeks. And it can be difficult to hide the rings and nipple shields I've chosen for you. Depending upon your mode of dress, one glance at your chest would tell anybody that your nipples are pierced."

The excitement disappeared, leaving absolute horror. I pretended not to notice. Apparently having her subordinates at the magazine and peers elsewhere becoming aware of her proclivities was definitely not to her liking.

"A pierced clit would mean that your pussy would be off limits for maybe four weeks. That option makes the least appealing to me. Though I have heard that a stud or ring adds a special thrill for the woman during sex. A couple of women I know swear by theirs."

Veronica gave me a dubious look, but the idea seemed to appeal to her, particularly when she considered the other options.

"In the event you choose that option your pussy will be closed for my use, but, as I said, that does leave your ass available full time for my pleasure. Well, your ass and your mouth, unless of course you also choose to get a stud for your tongue."

Her eyes popped wide as she took considered the implications of my statement. Four weeks of assfucking with a dick the size of Mr Snake might leave her permanently gaping. Not a pleasant prospect.

"I prefer the third option, but the choice is yours: a belly ring and two of the three – tongue, nipples or clit. I'm curious. Which of the three appeals to you?"

That did it. Without hesitation, Veronica answered.

"None appeal to me, but If I must – " her eyes flashed. She was so hating the whole idea. "I can't afford to have people see a stud through my tongue. It would be completely out of character for me to do so. Therefore, I prefer to carry my – my decorations – on my breasts..." she gestured to her chest, then hesitated, obviously grudging every word. "...and on my clit."

So she'd chosen to have her nipples and clit pierced.

Perfect.

Despite what I'd said, those options were precisely my preferences, for all sorts of reasons. One of which was that a leash would attach very nicely to a ring through her clit. That image made my dick hard, and I had just the perfect venue in mind for that show. There would be no fucking her pussy or tits for a while, but that could wait for later in the summer. I would use that as yet another form of humiliation. By that time, there was no doubt that she would've done something to earn it.

Until her nipples and clit healed, I'm certain that she was praying that she would be limited to practicing her oral skills – not that she needed the practice you understand – rather than spending a lot of time on her knees getting her ass corked, but she was wrong as usual. Just because her clit and tits were tender, didn't mean I would go without nasty sex from her for four weeks. She'd soon learn different. And with herself so very tender – depending upon the position she was forced to take – at least for a few days, it might be difficult for her to get herself off while getting me off. Excellent punishment: diabolical, if nothing else.

I am so bad.

Mr Snake rolled over and began to awaken.

"Here's to your choice Mrs Hart." I said raising my tumbler. "We can eat first, or we can see if we can duplicate this afternoons experience for you, then eat. If you are going to be out of action for a while, it's the least I can do for you."

Veronica raised her drink automatically, but she wasn't into the toast. She appeared to be reconsidering her options. Her attention turned inward as she sipped her drink. After a few minutes she shuddered abruptly. Her face lost color beneath her tan. I think she was imagining an embarrassing scenario involving the tongue stud or nipple rings, or the added humiliation of getting her pussy waxed while sporting a clit ring. She shook herself, then her eyes refocused. She found herself gazing upon my face. Suddenly the blush was back upon her cheeks.

Maybe she was remembering details of our time in bed that afternoon. Could be. Parts of our tryst would make a sailor blush. No matter what else she was, when she loses herself in it, Veronica is one hot fuck.

She took another sip, but found that she'd finished the drink. She held the tumbler out to me.

"May I have another... sir." She was still having trouble with that honorific. "Then I'd like to eat. I did not have much in the way of breakfast this morning, what with the Salon appointment."

Veronica was being polite. Either the training was kicking in, or – more likely – she was very hungry. I freshened our drinks. When I'd settled on the bed again, I took up our conversation.

"I'm hungry too. We'll eat a late lunch now, then come back here. Later if we get hungry again, we can order in dinner. Does that suit?"

Veronica nodded. "Yes... sir. Thank you." It wasn't getting any easier for her over time. Good. I liked that she flushed every time she said 'Sir'. Learning manners seemed to be a painful process for Mrs Hart. Very good.

"You're welcome. Now you've got a half hour to get ready. Wear a dress or a skirt, and remember, you lost our wager. No panties allowed."

She blushed, but nodded again. A tiny smiled feathered her lips. Apparently the memory of our fucking like rabbits wasn't all bad.

Veronica looked every inch the sophisticated lady of fashion that afternoon. She kept the blue silk shirtdress, though I could tell that the absence of panties bothered her every so often. Particularly because I made her unfasten the bottom two buttons. She had to be very careful not to flash.

I didn't have the heart to tell her that in certain unusual lighting conditions, that dress became near transparent. What the hell, maybe she knew and wore it anyway.

Two hours later we had finished our meal at a little French bístro down near the waterfront. The owner is a friend. She knows me well. Daníelle and I had fucked each other blue one afternoon. Early thirty-something. Dark brunette. Huge brown eyes. Lush body. Magnificent tits. Bodacious ass. Very French. Liked to have her nipples chewed. I introduced Mrs Hart as Missy's mother.

Veronica had been a bit taken back. First that restaurant was upscale and the food was outstanding. Second, that the cost for the two of us came to almost two bills, including tip, for which I'd paid with cash from a money clip that obviously held a number of like denominations. Third, that I was obviously a well-known and valued customer. Fourth, that I was being served liquor, and the champagne I had ordered was so completely to her taste. Well all of that plus the casual conversation I'd had a with Jacques, the wine steward.