Orchid Ch. 02

"Um," I say, frowning as I twist. The zipper won't budge. "Can you..."

She comes to a stop as she turns, body halfway around so that her frame is silhouetted in front of the bed. Her chin nearly in line with her shoulder as she looks at me, eyes darting. Just when I realize that she probably didn't understand what I'd said, she smiles. Inferring from my body language. "Is it stuck?"

"Yes," I squeak, blushing. She strides confidently past me while I gather my hair and pull it to my left, resting on and in front of my shoulder. I look back and to the right, and smile. "Thank you."

Susan says nothing, and after a few tugs the zipper comes loose. I can't help but take a deep breath and stand up just a little taller as she unzips it down to the base, in the small of my back, and spreads the blue dress.

"Wait," she says, when I start to slip my arms through the short sleeves. Her fingertips slide up my bare back, spreading the dress slightly wider as she goes. A sharp inhale as she pulls at the clasp of my bra. The hooks come loose, and I sigh as she pushes that farther and farther apart. The shoulder straps of both dress and bra slide outward. Indulgently paced.

My bra stays largely in place inside the dress, and as the blue fabric slides past my elbows I can't help but pull my arms through and lay my hands over my humble breasts. Susan laughs, working the dress past my hips and gathering my panties as she goes. The sound of her humming, as she transitions down to her knees behind me, sends chills up my spine.

"Stay," she says simply. "Just like that." Her hands run up my legs, around the outsides, before coming back together at the tops of the backs of my thighs. I gasp softly as she works her thumbs up between them, gently cupping my cheeks. Spreading. The warmth of her breath on sensitive skin.

Her tongue, hot and wet, against the puckered opening between my cheeks. I bite down hard on my lip, breathing fiercely through the nose. Tiny lashes. Tiny whimpers. The tip of her tongue, circling and swirling. Pushing ever so gently. Writhing.

Not-so-tiny whimpers.

One of her hands comes up above the small of my back and pushes, while the other one keeps a tight grip on my pale cheek. I curl, following her quiet guidance, and bend forward over the foot of the bed. Bending forward until my elbows come to rest on the soft comforter. Legs spread slightly, and bent just more than 90º at the waist. In just my heels.

"Much better," Susan murmurs. Her hands slide around to the front of my thighs, giving her leverage to pull herself forward. Back and forth over the forbidden ring. Spreading her tongue wide. I groan, back arching, as she teases me. Flirting with more and more pressure, but not quite enough to break through.

She sits back with a happy sigh, though still close enough that I can feel her breath on my skin. It's a shock when her tongue presses gently underneath my balls, curling underneath them and drawing them into her mouth. Her arm brushes against the inside of my knee, alerting me a moment before her fingers wrap tightly around my shaft. Gripping it around the middle, giving her room to stroke up and down.

The tender pouch slips from her lips, and she gives each ball a gentle kiss before returning the attention of her tongue to my dark hole. This time, she curls her tongue tightly and pushes. I groan, loudly, as the outer ring yields to her. Knowing she can only barely hear me and yet still consumed with the need to bellow my approval. Her hand works smoothly up and down, dragging the outer layer of skin out over my head like the foreskin I lost so early.

Little by little, my ring stretches to allow her, and her tongue pushes deeper. Pushes constantly. Smoothly and inexorably worming inside of me while she strokes me. I draw my head back and groan again, voice echoing throughout the bedroom. Stroking me faster. Smoothly, and from the head to the root.

I plant one arm hard into the bed and turn, looking back over my shoulder. Susan smiles with her eyes, and the set of her brow, as she looks up at me from across the length of my back. I reach back with my other arm and grab hold of the opposite hip, twisting.

"Oh God," I groan. Susan's eyebrows come down tight, knitting her forehead. "Oh that feels good."

She stares at me, eyes burning, as I moan and writhe. I don't need to embellish the way my back curls, or the way my hips grind back into her face; my body is on fire for her. All I need to do is show it, and that gets easier when I know she's watching.

It gets even easier once I realize it's affecting her.

"That feels really good." Her eyes tighten every time I talk. "God, I can't even remember the last time someone ate out my asshole."

"Mmmmm, good," she says, her face still held so close that her lips brush against the pucker as she talks. "That sets me apart."

"Oh Fuck," I moan, as she drives her tongue back into me. Lids fluttering. "Oooh fuck." Her hand tightens around my shaft, squeezing mercilessly and stroking slower. I groan again and pull at my pale cheek, spreading myself for her. "Go deeper."

If there's any hesitation to do as I tell her, it's unnoticeable.

"Oh Fuck!" Her warm, wet tongue burrows inside of me, pushing past the inner ring and worrying against the walls within. Her own groans pass slowly through my core, though her eyes stay firmly fixed on me.

She's doing it again. That... Fuck it's hard to think when she's got her hands on me. She's doing that thing again, where she's going to just try to make me cum. I don't want her to stop, but I need to... I need to...

God her tongue is distracting.

"Oh Your Honor..." It just pops out.

Her lids droop slowly. An almost imperceptible shift in the feel of her tongue. Not in texture, but in the effort. In the tone.

"Do you like licking my ass, Your Honor?"

Again that feeling of dissociation. That disconnect when I start taking control. Less powerful than before, which is as exhilarating as it is terrifying. There's an odd sort of comfort at being less alienated by your own behavior than you were before. An 'I could get used to this' sensation.

God her tongue is distracting.

Susan's gaze becomes infinitely more intense. Almost angry. Speaking from personal experience, having your motives subverted is annoying, but for her to react so strongly...

"You do, don't you?"

She says nothing, and good God her tongue is distracting. So close to no reaction at all that it might as well mean that, except that she continues licking... with just the slightest bit of extra fervor. I shift from holding my cheek with my right hand, and place the palm on the top of her head. Fingers curling over and around to the back of her scalp, slipping into her hair. I whimper, shivering as her tongue finds a soft spot. Her grip on my legs amps up, nails nearly breaking through the skin of my thighs.

So hard to think straight with her tongue...

My fingers reflexively tighten in her hair, just for something to hold onto, and Susan mewls magnificently. It's a small sound, barely audible, but I can feel it. Oh, can I feel it. It's an effort to control my expression, curling my lip and sneering when the urge is there to submit, body and soul. To let her take me in hand and own me.

The urge is there, but it isn't what I want. Not right now.

Susan yelps when I give her hair a sharp yank. The tightness around her eyes dips, softening what I can see of her expression, and I pounce.

"S-suck on my balls."

She doesn't seem to notice the slurring, brought on by her tongue hitting that same, gloriously-sensitive patch of nerves inside of me. She aims my shaft straight down, between my thighs, and brings her fist in toward the base so that the churning orbs are collected and high. Her eyes drop to just above the curve of my ass as she presses her lips against the hairless flesh and sucks, drawing one and then the other into moist darkness. Tenderly massaging them with her tongue. Lovingly massaging them.

Nothing unravels me more than sensual attention to my balls. It's not the feel of them, or that they're some kind of magical trigger. It's what they represent, and what they say about me. About who I am, and what I am. It is acceptance of 'me as I am', and while I'm aware that that's not a new observation I've made about myself, it still hits me like the fist of an angry God every fucking time.

"Good," I purr. "Thank you, Your Honor."

Susan rolls her tongue, keeping constant contact with varying pressure from side to side.

"You're very good with your tongue."

She says nothing, merely continuing as she was while occasionally making sharp squeaks as air escapes where it isn't supposed to.

"Verbally and non-verbally."

She says nothing. Her cheeks sink into her mouth as she sucks harder, drawing my flesh deeper.

"But actions really do speak louder than words for you, hmm?"

She says nothing. Tongue like a wave.

"Ok then," I say. I take my arm from off the bed, and grip her hair tight to help keep my balance while bent forward. She gasps as I push her back, away from me, and my balls pop from her mouth despite some delightfully powerful suction. She groans, eyes darting, as I reach down between my legs with my left hand and guide my cock almost straight back. Toward her.

Susan slides her tongue underneath the upside-down head, and her eyes are right back on mine. The feel of it sliding back over the length of her tongue is incredible. In almost no time, I can feel her breath from her nostrils against my balls. Her nose nestled between my spit-slick balls.

"I like the way I just slide into your throat from this angle, Your Honor."

She says nothing, merely shivering a little from a repressed gag reflex. Her eyes tighten whenever my grip on her hair changes directions, and I use her as an anchor to sway myself forward and back. Thrusting very slowly.

"Do you like the way I look in heels, Your Honor? I think they make my ass look fantastic."

She says nothing. The tiniest flicker as her gaze travels down to the pale, smooth curve of my ass before coming back up to meet mine. I bite down on my lip and moan as I hilt and hold her there. Fist tightening in her blonde hair streaked with light gray.

"How does my cock taste, Your Honor?"

She says nothing, but the blush of embarrassment is so complete that I can see it on her brow.

"Hmm? Do you like that?" I wiggle my ass at her, shaking her head ever so slightly in the opposite direction my hips are moving, and the tiniest little moan escapes when the seal, of her lips on my shaft, breaks. "You do?"

Her eyes close slowly, followed by a longer, louder, muffled moan. I pull her in hard, grunting softly at the way my balls get squeezed between us.

"Remind me to put some pigtails in your hair next time, Your Honor."

And there it is. Her eyes drift shut completely, and the unmistakeable sound of fingers moving between wet lips fills the room. The smell of her need fills my lungs, and I sigh happily. I let go of her hair, and she immediately slides backwards. A heaving gasp as her mouth and airway is vacated. A thin stream of tears and mascara down her left cheek, followed quickly by one on the right.

I smile as I stand up straight, feeling every bit of the height my heels give me as she's kneeling. Her jaw hangs open while she moans, and I shudder at the creamy precum mingling with her saliva on the tip of her tongue. It occurs to me that she's saved it, not swallowing, just for the chance to show it to me, but the abandon with which she's touching herself, knees spread wide, leaves little question as to her genuineness.

I lay my cock on her tongue, with just the head behind her lips, and take hold of her hair with both hands this time. "Yes," I murmur, nodding. "Two pigtails, nice and high. Would you like that, Your Honor? Would you like to wear pigtails for me? On the bench?"

"Oo Fuu," she groans, careful to keep her teeth well clear while still enunciating as best she can.

"I love the way you sound when you're sucking me off."

"Mmmhmmm," she groans, nodding her head. Her eyes are still closed, brow furrowed, and her cheeks are a bright, bright red.

"Do you like sucking my cock?"

"Mmmhmmm!" No hesitation. No ambiguity.

"Good. I like fucking your mouth."

Tiny whimpers. The sloshing sound of her fingers increases. I pull her in by her hair. Her nose inching toward my pelvis while my cock finds its way home.

"I wonder how much, though."

She looks up at me, lips stretched around my girth, and blinks. I hilt and hold her there, watching for the shine of mist in her eyes. A fluttering of her lids. That's my favorite part, when the situation is reversed, and I find that putting her in that position is similarly magnificent.

"Would you like it if, after fucking that beautiful cunt of yours, I finished in your mouth?"

"Mmmhmm," she murmurs, nodding slightly, though the blush on her cheeks flares.

"Would you like that?"

"Mmmhmm," she repeats, and I pull back. A deep breath through flared nostrils, as her airway opens again, and she blinks away the tears.

"What about your ass?"

She looks up at me, wide-eyed. Her expression is still, but not the bloodless pale frozen of actual fear or panic. Her cheeks are flush to the point of radiance. More telling is the sound of her fingers; faster and louder. Whether it's that she likes the taste of my cum that much or is embarrassed to admit how much she likes anal play honestly doesn't matter. They're both good answers.

"On the bed," I say, tilting my head. She seems relieved, shoulders relaxing, and I wonder how much more I would have had to push to get her to cum right there. Not much, I think. She looks back at me once her first knee touches down on the edge of the bed. I lay my hand on her hip, nudging ever so gently, and she rolls onto her back. I keep my hand on her, following her, and use the slightest pressure to keep her from crawling too far onto the bed. Her legs come up above her, spread wide in a V with her hips and knees each bent at ninety degree angles.

"Do you like wearing heels?" I ask, as I step between her legs. I lay my cock along her wet lips, the head extending past the apex by an inch or more.

"Yes," she says breathily. "I feel powerful in them."

"They're like weapons." I let my fingers slide along the backs of her calves, and she shivers. "The way they shape us. Not that I think you need extra shaping."

"Fuck," she groans.

"They draw attention where we want it," I lilt, leaning my head to the side to admire the shape of her stockinged calf. "Helps us play to our strengths."

She reaches down between her thighs and strokes the end of my shaft. Her palm brushing up and down over the head.

"Not to mention the aesthetic they have all on their own." I draw my hips back ever so slightly, and Susan keeps her hand in place to guide the flared head to her entrance. "The angle. The styling. The sharp spike." Crystal clear enunciation. I punctuate the last with a quick thrust, and Susan moans. Head rolled back into her shoulders. "It's so... phallic."

"Fuck!" she groans.

"It's symbolic."

"Oh fuck yes."

"But they're not just weapons." I slide fully into her, thighs resting against her upturned cheeks, and sigh as I bite my lip. "They're armor too. They help us hide."

She looks down at me, one eye more open than the other. Two fingers swirling shamelessly over her pearl. Throaty moans as she races toward the orgasm so narrowly avoided before. My hips move slowly, moving the full length of myself in and out of her.

Fingers swirling faster.

"Inside of these," I say, as my fingers creep along her achilles heel, "your foot is contoured for you, but when it comes off..." I hook my middle finger into the back of her black pump and pull back, peeling it up and away from her sole. "...you can't hide what I do to you." She writhes on the bed, whimpering, as I slide my hand over her bared, stockinged foot. Toes curled tightly into the ball. Pointed down and away, along the line of the shin.

"There," I say, cradling her foot in my palm. Thumb brushing along the top of the arch. "Exposed."

The pitch of her whine ramps up and up, spiraling and reaching her peak when I twist slightly and remove the other heel. She tries to curl her feet around my arms as she cums, but I push down on the backs of her thighs and lean over her. Fucking her earnestly at her most sensitive. At her most vulnerable. Susan's whines become full-throated howls as I piston into her. I love how wet she is. I love how wet she is.

"Keep going," she grunts, jaw tightly clenched. "Don't stop. Don't stop."

The more I go, the less I feel like I can control my voice at all. The feel of her walls, wrapped around my shaft, is so distracting. I can barely think straight, let alone continue to monologue to her. Her legs curl inward, toes reaching just past my elbows. I can just barely make out her nails, a bright red, through the nylon.

After another minute, with only the sound of my cock plunging into her above her near-constant whimpering, Susan cums again. Her fingers never stop moving. Never stop their swirling stimulation. I love the feel of her fingernails brushing against me when I hilt. I love the feel of her muscles contracting so pervasively. So completely. I love the way the veins stand out in her neck and forehead, her skin already pebbled with sweat.

"Keep..." Her eyes stay tightly shut. "Just... don't..."

"I won't," I grunt, trusting myself only enough to say that much. It's striking how much more control it requires to be in control. How different it felt to submit, and how freeing. How easy it was to whisper every dirty little thing that passed through my head when I was so completely in someone else's hand.

Not better. Not worse. Definitely different.

"Oh god," she moans, as I thrust faster. "Oh God." Harder. My hips ferociously impacting against hers. Harder. So hard to think. "Yes! Yes!"

Stuttered moans and whimpers flow out of me, with every breath, push, and pull. A longer, deeper groan when I look down to see how much of her cream is collected at the very base of my shaft. The sudden wellspring of warmth. I can't slow down. I don't want to slow down. I just want to run to it as fast as I can. Pour every last ounce of energy into it.

"Open," I whine, as I pull back at the last minute and scurry onto the bed. Susan's shocked expression is perfectly suited as I waddle over the bed on my knees, still wearing just my heels, while stroking myself to stay close. Her head comes up, craning like a baby bird for the meal its mother brought, and I just manage to get the head onto her tongue when I start cumming with a loud cry.

My knees almost give out, sliding outward, and I pin her head down into the bed as I cum hard. A wave of euphoria sweeps through me, taking all conscious thought and leaving only blissful release in its wake. I slump forward over her, barely getting my hands underneath me, as she nurses on my cock. Suckling greedily for every drop.

She squirms beneath me, thighs tightly squeezed together, and as soon as I fall farther forward, they spread for me. Inviting me. It's not even a question. Her arms wrap around my waist, holding me as tightly as she is closely, as she drains me. Drawing out every molecule. No hint of slowing even as I can feel myself softening in her mouth.

I match the placement of her arms, snaking mine around her waist, and she rolls me onto my side. Rolls with me. Her thigh underneath my head for a pillow, as I lap at her slick folds. My thigh under her head as she works her tongue over every square inch of my flesh, reclaiming every drop of moisture to be found. For minutes on end.