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Vanilla Crossover #1 Gràinne stood naked before me. Self-conscious about her body, she was not quite sure where to put her hands. I solved that problem by snapping steel handcuffs on her wrists. She looked at me with fear, uncertainty and a frisson of excitement. Her trust in me was total. That alone made my cock stir — I too was naked, and she was well aware of her impact. There was a respectable glimmer of a smile in her emerald green eyes. A small gasp from plum-red lips escaped when I raised her wrists up and secured them up to the hook with a black, silk rope. I fondled her DD-cup tits. Gentle at first, she purred as I played with her nipples. They were very sensitive. Gràinne could cum with nipple play alone. I knew her cunt was getting wet. I licked her nipples and then covered every inch of her dark brown areolae with kisses. The texture of the areolae bumps and wrinkles on my tongue pleased me. It was impossible to resist tracing the blue-green veins that radiated from her nipples. She squirmed at the attention and rubbed her shaven cunt against my cock. It felt like fine sandpaper — it had been several days since her last shave. I teased her with my now hard cock, sliding it between her open thighs and under her labia. She had lovely puffy lips, and they opened to coat my shaft in her juices. My cock was no stranger to her. We had fucked many times before. She was well used to wrapping her mouth — and her tits, around my thick pole. She enjoyed its thickness and length. Stepping back, I enjoyed her body. Long tresses of red hair settled on her pale shoulders. Gràinne’s face was pleasing, if not stunning, and was made beautiful by her open smile. Her tits? A man would be a fool not to appreciate the ample tits and nipples. In her mid-thirties and having given birth to two her tits had lost their youthful firmness. A lovely sag replaced youthful perkiness. I considered that increased their beauty. The nipples were gumdrop sized, and when she was aroused, they became even more prominent and hardened. She smiled as I inspected her, pushing her breasts upwards and outwards. A tease she could be, but then she knew how much I loved her breasts. She also knew that if I squeezed and sucked on her nipples for a long time droplets of creamy yellow milk would ooze from them. I often wondered if I could make her tits squirt. My eyes drifted down to her belly. Fat by model standards, Gràinne was sexy by any other. I had massaged and caressed the belly roll that overshadowed her cunt mound on many occasions. I loved to squeeze her broad hips and belly as I fucked her from behind. The memory made my cock jerk. She giggled. It was not a perfect belly, scarred by a caesarean birth and laced with stretch lines. I did not care. She was a woman. A real woman. Natural and luscious. She blushed as my gaze took in her belly. I laughed. The view of her cunt was cock-twitching. The mons was pleasantly rounded curving down to her outer lips. Thick frills of inner lips pushed out beyond the swollen labia. I loved having them in my mouth, licking and sucking them. The taste of her cunt was better than a glass of burgundy. Hints of chocolate, almonds, salt, and sweat combined to make her cunt-milk my favorite aperitif. Hidden by her lips and under its protective hood, her clit awaited my fingers. Like a little slut, it loved my touch and tongue. I smiled as she crossed her legs and knew she was trying to satisfy her clit’s call. It would throb in her cunt until satisfied. She whimpered. Her eyes asked for relief, for me to use the little in her cunt. Not yet, I thought. I walked around her to stand at Gràinne’s rear. It was no surprise that she had a big ass. Large cheeks dimpled with maturity formed a long cleft from her lower back to her cunt. In her ass crack the flesh was a lovely dark color. The softly rounded cheeks hid a hole that I often enjoyed. Dark pink and wrinkled delightfully, it was raised and prominent. My tongue had frequently rimmed Gràinne’s shithole and, along with my fingers, probed its inner passage. I had never fucked her hole — it was virgin territory. It was a situation I intended to remedy. I slapped her ass playfully. She moaned and pushed her ass against my cock. Her husband — yes she was married, so was I. Discretion and hygiene are less of a concern with two married. Her husband, she told me, had a small cock and did not satisfy her. Of more annoyance to her was that he was entirely submissive. He would not or could not take command — even when deciding where to go for dinner. Men with small cocks just need better technique. It was the fact that she disliked her spouse’s meekness that drew me to her. Up and until now our fucking had been extremely frequent and enjoyable. Gràinne was a passionate woman who found release in my arms and with my cock in her cunt. Still, to date, our sex was mostly vanilla. My mannerisms led her to sense that there was another layer — and possibly a much more profound layer, to my personality. She was very perceptive and one evening as we lay panting and sweating after a rigorous bout of fucking said, “Will you show me another way?” Now she stood before me, hand-cuffed, nervous but with anticipation in her deep green eyes. Now and then her eyes would look at the table behind me and the collection of tools — whips, paddles, clamps, ropes, dildos, and vibes, arrayed on it. She trembled. The room was pleasantly warm; her reaction was not due to temperature. “You’re a slut.” She was startled at the suddenness of my words — then was dismayed at the label. She shook her head. “No,” she said softly. The hard slaps to her tits were also a shock. Never had they been treated with this violence. Unable to resist she cried as I beat her tits with my hands. “You’re a .” “No,” she whimpered through her veil of tears. The next slaps were to her nipples — sharp smacks to each. They were already standing proud and erect, which made the pain more intense. She squealed with the pain. “You’re a cunt.” “No.” Her eyes pleaded for relief from the burning pain in her breasts and the throbbing of her nipples. Anticipating my next target, she clamped her thighs together. I chuckled and grabbed a fold of her belly fat, squeezing hard. Not the gentle caress and fondling to which she had become used. The follow-on slaps made her belly quiver, and more tears flowed down her cheeks and onto her tits. “You’re fuckmeat.” I crossed the floor to the table of toys. “No!” This time there was a tone of defiance in her voice. I smiled. We were making progress. I kicked her ankles apart and secured them with a spacer bar. “Bastard,” she muttered, knowing she was helpless to close her thighs. Rough fingers pushed up inside her cunt. I soaked my hands in her juices and smeared her face and tits with the milk that seeped from her cunt walls. The smell of cunt filled the room. To me, it was a beautiful fragrance. “Now, you smell like a cunt,” I growled. She glared at me and was about to retort when I kissed her hard. It was not a lover’s kiss. It was a master’s kiss. Our lips mashed together. She fought my tongue as it pushed to invade her mouth. Previously, we had shared long, wet, passionate kisses. She knew this was not just about the kiss. She battled in vain. I took her mouth as my own. Fucked it with my tongue. “Slut,” I said again as I stood back, admiring the reddening marks that spread over her tits. With some more attention, they would bruise nicely. “No,” she said through gritted teeth, then, “Please can we stop now?” I shook my head. She dropped her head and sobbed. The sharp pain in her nipples drew a curse. “Bastard!” she cried out as she felt the nipple clamps snap onto one and then the other of her painful and sensitive nipples. I tugged on the clamps stretching her nipples and pulling her massive tits upwards. She screamed at the agony in her breasts. Her eyes widened when she noticed that there was a third clamp on the chain. “No.” I knelt and spread her cunt lips. She hissed like a cat at not being able to resist. Locating her clit was easy. The little had emerged from its cover and exposed its glistening pale pinkness. It called out “use me.” I slapped it rapidly a few times. Gràinne moaned at the pain and the intense pleasure building up. She whimpered, “No,” as I rubbed her clit. The traitorous body part grew bigger and flushed pink. Involuntarily, muscles tightened, and tremors flowed through Gràinne’s body. She fought to control her body. It was a losing battle. I arched my head, dipped under her cunt, and ate her. My sucking and tongue flickering over her clit drove her over the edge. Her climax was as unforgiving as the treatment I had dished out. An explosion of pain and ecstasy coursed through her body. She almost did not feel the clamp applied to her clit. I stood up and looked at her, covered in a sheet of perspiration, and her skin flushed pink. “.” This time she could not reply. She was savoring the bursting nerve-ends that rippled over her skin. Please check out my blog 1ToUseUHard |
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