Page 44 of Sensuality


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“This is not wrong. What’s wrong is you thinking for a moment that I’m out of control. Or that you can come in here and dictate anything at all. The mere fact that I let you walk away for two long months, come back here, and went a whole day without fucking my pussy right there in the hall for every single one of my employees to see is a testament to the amount of control and restraint I have.” He measured each of his words with sharp penetrating stabs of his dick.

“Ohhhhh…Oh. Shit. Oh shit!”

“And don’t you dare cum, Baby Girl!”

Her eyes glazed over and she swallowed.

“Don’t you think you have cum enough for one day?” He lifted her leg and buried his dick deeper inside of her. She felt so unbelievably inviting. So tight. So warm. The sticky sweetness of her was about to send him over the edge. He bent his head and bit down on her nipple to take the edge off himself. He couldn’t cum yet. Not until they were clear.

He pinched the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulling and tugging it as he sucked and nibbled on the other. He felt her pussy tightening around him and knew it was only a matter of time until his Baby Girl exploded. But first she had to acknowledge that was exactly who she was—his.

Stacy couldn’t believe she was right there writhing under her husband, both of them partially clothed and fucking on the sofa in his office like they didn’t have a lick of home training. That was the biggest problem of all, wasn’t it? From the first time she laid eyes on him, Miguel always made her forget all her inhibitions.

The man unleashed things in her, desires and wants that she never knew she had. She was a successful, strong black woman, for goodness sake! There was no way in hell she could possibly want the things he offered her. She didn’t want to be sexually dominated. Did she? She was the independent woman that Beyoncé and the girls sang about before they started giving lap dances on awards shows, singing about catering to a man. She couldn’t be both. Could she?

Everything that had happened to her since she’d taken the position in his company had been under his control, at his command, by his desire. You would have thought that she would have hightailed it out of there when she found herself having the kinkiest, wildest sexual encounters she had ever experienced anywhere, let alone in the workplace. But their affair had been so sudden and so breathtaking that she had gotten swept up in it. And before she knew it, they were in Vegas, closing a business deal and then sealing her own fate with aquick marriage. By the time she had a second to process it all, she was Mrs. Miguel-fucking-Suárez. That she hadn’t hauled ass then was a testament to how caught up she was.

The day-to-day aspects of their life, the way they conducted themselves as intelligent colleagues, all went out the window when they came together sexually. The night before she left, he’d both stripped her of any remaining semblance of control she thought she held and given her more intense pleasure than she’d ever known.

And she’d loved every moment of it! Just like she loved him. The pain. The pleasure. The power. The pull of his love. The push of her own. It all just became too much for her and she had to leave before she could no longer recognize herself.

But lying there with her husband’s dick stretching her and filling her and feeling the sweet torture of her nipples as she all the while fought even her own reason and held back the screaming orgasm that threatened to escape any minute—all so that she wouldn’t displease him—she recognized more about herself than she had been willing to face. She could be both the independent woman and cater to her man, at least in their intimate lives. She was both—independent and submissive.

A low, keening moan escaped her lips and she bit down to gather the strength to fight off cumming, so that she could find the strength within her to say what needed to be said.

He removed his mouth from her nipple. He continued to work the other nipple as well as his hips. “I can’t let you go, Baby Girl. I tried. I can’t. I won’t. I know what you need and you know I do. So tell me, Baby Girl, tell me.” The last of his words rushed out in a mumbled groan and she could tell that he was as close to bursting as she was. “Tell me what you need, Baby Girl.”

“I need…I need to cum, Papi,” she managed to pant out. “Please. I need to cum and I need you, Papi. I need you so very much.” It didn’t surprised her how easily she fell back into the groove of their D/s relationship, how quickly she became Baby Girl to his Papi.

His mouth covered hers and he slowly moved his tongue in and out of her mouth in tandem with his dick. He fucked her mouth as he fucked her. And he hadn’t said she could cum! As he pulled away from her lips, he nipped the bottom one in his teeth in a piercing grasp and demanded, “Cum, Baby Girl. Cum for me.”

The orgasm was instant and ripped through her the moment he uttered the words. If she had any doubts about where she belonged and who she belonged to, she didn’t have them anymore.

Her pussy cleaved to his dick, latching on and trying to pull it further in, as if that were at all possible. He let out a bellow and held her tightly as he released his hot burst of sperm inside of her. “I love you, Baby Gir

l. I love you so much. But if you ever leave me again, I’m going to spank that ass of yours until it feels like it’s on fire and then I’m going to make you beg me to fuck you, knowing that the next time you see an orgasm would be so far away you might even forget what it felt like.” His tone held no hint of play and she knew he was letting her off easy.

She took a deep breath. She embraced herself and his love for her. “Permission to speak, Papi.”

“You may speak, Baby Girl.”

“Since we both know there is no way I’d ever forget what a climax brought on by your wonderful lovemaking feels like, can we move this party to our home so that I can show the man I love and adore just how much I’ve missed him and…begin my penance for being a very bad girl? Can we go home now, Papi?”

Miguel smiled before kissing her slowly and seductively. “Yes, my love. Let’s go home.”

Peaches ’n’ Cream

Amie Stuart

I had a plan.

I bit down on a fat, juicy strawberry and chewed slowly as the tart sweetness filled my mouth.

My name is Fiona Menard and in my opinion, the highlight of Carthage, Texas’s Peach Festival is seeing Chris Whittier, never mind that he usually comes with a different woman every year (pun definitely intended).

I never took my eyes off him as I stuck my tongue out and caught the bit of juice that had escaped. “The strawberries are very good this year.”

“I see that.” He’d been staring at me and the strawberries for ten agonizing minutes, as if debating his next move.

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