RonRyan85

Lip Service (a Fantasy held by Charity Jones)
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The room lights have been turned off. Through the
shuttered blinds the amber glow of sunset slips into
the room, bathing all in a soothing chiaroscuro of
mellow golds and greys. Music flows softly from the
stereo: the slow, sweet, silver rhythms of a Spanish
guitar, rippling like the waters of an azure pool just
kissed by an evening breeze.

You sit relaxed and peaceful on the sofa, your head
resting on the the soft crushed velvet, gazing up at
the flickers of twilight on the ceiling. Your tie has
been unknotted, the top two buttons of your shirt
undone; the stress and weariness of the business world
at last are slipping away. There comes a merry
jingling at your waist; the whisper of leather on
fabric; and your belt is loosened by hands other than
your own.

You lift your head from the deep padding of the sofa
back and look down at the brunette sitting on the
floor between your legs. I smile up at you as my
fingers find the latch of your zipper and pull it
down. I spread the fabric, seeking the slit in your
boxers that will enable me to free your cock; my
fingers and hands rub against the bulge of your groin
and your arousal quickly becomes apparent as a
stiffening protrusion begins to rise beneath the
cloth.

At last I find the slit, lifting it with difficulty
over the now-stiff member which springs free from the
confinement of your pants. I gaze at the immense
organ, so long and thick, crowned with its swollen
purple head... the shaft is so hard it's throbbing,
pulsing slightly with each beat of your heart. Your
cock is so powerful and majestic... so beautiful and
strong... it fills me with such awe and reverence for
you... I want to adore it, worship it and its owner:
my Lord and Master.

My fingers rise to touch the shaft just beneath the
rim of the head. You sigh softly with delight. I let
my fingers slide down, feeling how hard and unyielding
your flesh has become -- I can barely make an
impression in the skin. The bulges of veins pass under
my fingers, adding texture to the otherwise smooth
surface. With the palm of my hand I rub the underside
up and down, smiling at your groan as I feel the
pressure in your enormous organ, how it pushes back
against my hand. My fingers slip back down to your
lap, pressing against the base of your shaft to hold
it steady for the work I am about to begin. I note
with pride that there is ample room for all eight
fingers.

I lean forward, my tongue emerging to tickle the
gathering of skin just beneath the head. You flinch at
my touch, sighing, your hands reaching behind me to
stroke my hair. The strength of your large hands fills
me with pride and security. I feel safe in your
presence, protected and sheltered by your power, and I
want to show my gratitude and devotion by pleasing
you, by worshipping at the temple of my Master's
cock...

The underside of my tongue swirls up over your bulging
cockhead. You shudder. I let my tongue play with the
head, licking it, circling it, sliding over the
depression where the single eye waits to spurt forth
its treasure. I could play with the head for hours,
loving the taste and feel of it, loving the sight of
the swollen purple oval so taut with the pressure of
your excitement... the rigidity of your cock tonight
is so severe that it seems it must be painful, and I
want to make love to it, goading it until it bursts
forth and all the stress and pressure that you feel
erupt to flood into the soothing wetness of my
mouth... let me soothe you, Master... let your adoring
slave offer you her body, that she may give you
peace...

Your hands come to rest over my ears, your fingers
cradling the back of my head. You mesh my thick hair
in your grip as you seize me gently but firmly. I
yield myself up at your touch, surrendering my will to
yours. Gentle waves of pleasure are washing through me
now: the joy of my submission to my honored Master; my
profound, unshakeable trust as I give myself up into
his hands, knowing that he has absolute power over all
that I am...

I kiss the head of your cock with lips puckered wide
-- long, deep kisses, wet with desire. You groan again
-- your hands push my head tenderly but irrestibly
forward. Your voice comes forth, a whisper rough with
passion:

"Suck me, bitch. Suck my fucking cock."

I open my mouth. Your cockhead wedges itself between
my lip and tongue, forcing its way in. You lift your
hips slightly and the head plunges inside, filling my
mouth with your taste as it bulges against my palate.
Pushing my head lower, raising your hips, you begin to
work your shaft into my throat. Your flesh is dry and
does not slide easily -- it drinks the moisture from
my mouth to lubricate itself -- but my mouth is
watering so, that you are soon slick with my wetness.

A long, low groan escapes from your lips as your head
pushes into the back of my throat. My mouth is open so
wide that it feels I might dislocate my jaw... I gag
as your head tickles the back of my throat and you
pull back.

"You want it all, don't you, slut?" you whisper with a
smile. "Tell me how much you want it."

You pull your cock out. It stands enormous and
glistening before my dazzled eyes. It seems even
larger than before, as if it has grown inside my
mouth. I look over the head to gaze up at you, my eyes
alight.

"Please, Master, give it to me," I beg desperately.
"I'm so hungry for your beautiful cock... I need to
suck it... it tastes so good... please feed it all to
me, kindest Master, please let me suck you... I want
to make you cum in my mouth, I want to swallow all of
you, every drop...."

You smile down, taunting me. I dart my head forward,
mouth open, trying to put you back inside, but you
pull away. I pout with frustration; you laugh and grip
your cock, smacking it once, twice, three times on my
lips and cheeks. Each time it lands I strive to kiss
it, but it is drawn away too fast...

"You're a whore, aren't you, Cherry?" you tease. "Tell
me you're a whore."

"Oh, Master," I agree, writhing now with lust and
passion. "I am such a fucking whore. Master knows what
a cheap fucking slut his bitch is!" My voice drops to
an intense, desperate whisper as I plead with you:
"Please, Master, won't you treat me like a slut? Treat
me like a fucking slut!"

"Prove to me what a good little slut you are, Cherry:
suck my cock... and make me cum."

I jump forward, I am so eager, and take your stalwart
tool into my throat, my lips locking around the shaft.
Bracing my hands on your thighs, I plunge my head up
and down, sucking you... I love the way your cockhead
rubs back and forth over my tongue and palate... the
salty taste of you in my mouth... the texture of your
stiffened flesh slipping over my rounded lips. Your
shaft slides silkily in and out, glistening with the
warmth and softness of mouth. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm, you taste
soooooooo good....

Your hands are in my hair, holding tight, pushing me
down again each time I come up. I feel tension growing
in your fingers... you're getting close! I work
harder, bobbing my head even faster, my lips gripping
tighter to increase the friction. The sounds of your
joy fill my ears: deep, guttural, masculine groans of
delight. I love to make you feel so good...

A buck of your hips, driving you deep into my throat.
Your fingers lock in my hair, pulling almost
painfully. You bellow like a wounded bull... and the
sticky stream of your seed gushes into my throat. I
gulp frantically as my head flies up and down,
swallowing as much as I can, but some escapes my lips,
running down the sides of your pumping cock...

You sink back against the couch, shuddering, as I
swallow the last flowings of your ecstasy. My head
slows; I pull off, smiling at the gratifying sight of
your glistening cock: drained of its tension, it is
already starting to lose its rigidity. As you sigh
softly above me, stroking my hair, I think with pride
of the gift you have given me: it seems I can feel it
in my belly, suffusing me with its warm glow...

I bend my head to your lap, licking up what I was not
able to swallow. As I feel the limpness in your body,
your peace and relaxation, I know that this is a
service that I must perform more often....

Just before I begin my bath ,I remember how I was in
somewhat pain several nights ago. I had been forced
to work late at my job downtown and had not been
home to prepair Master's dinner or be ready for sex
when he was ready for me. When I came in breathless
and tired at 9PM Master was waiting for me in a dark
living room, the dog collar and leash in his hand.
My clothing was soon on the floor in a rushed dis-
robing and I was on all fours with the collar tightly
around my neck. Master walked me into the den where
I was given a severe butt spanking with his hand and
his favorite paddle: an old hairbrush of mine. My
ass stung for an hour and I had trouble sitting down
next day. Friday is a day when I am forbidden to wear
any underware to work and Master has altered my bras
with the tips cut out so my nipples show under all of
my blouses and tight tops but the bra does not count
as it supports my 34D breasts and is a means to
humiliate me at work. I was terribly embarrassed and
humiliated every day at first, as the male workers
seemed to hover around my desk and my face must have
been very red all day. Now I have gotten use to it
and most of the guys have stopped asking if I was cold
or just very excited. I suppose I have a reason for
acting mad at Master but I do not. Being submissive
and loving him and the humiliations he thinks up for
me gives me a thrill to hurry home to him and picture
the scene of me on my knees before his spread apart
thighs and my lips slowly sinking down his throbbing
erection and his look of pleasure that I am creating.