Beauty and Her Beast Ch. 02 - Sex Stories

Beauty and Her Beast Ch. 02

... forward as I screamed when another dark, mindless orgasm passed through, everything's gone fuzzy but I'm securely held in place. And he flicks his wrist up again, against my hole, then again, against my clit. "Sir -" half laughing, half sobbing, unable to think, completely out of it with the weirdest combination of pain and pleasure I've felt. Then, finally, left, right, in, clit, and I shriek, laugh, and scream, all at once as that black feeling shivers through me. So this is why the French sometimes call orgasms "la petite mort" - the little death. My mind is dead, and whatever it comes back as will not be the same as I was before.

The burning sensation, over and over, is nothing like I've felt before. I wonder if it will ever be normal again - if there's some time in my life it won't feel so hot and wet, that I won't feel like I'm all swollen pussy. Then he's undoing the restraints on my wrists, ankles, arms, and thighs, and he catches me in his arms. My legs aren't working, I can't remember how to use them, so he cradles in his arms. He drops me into his bed, and covers me with the duvet. I don't know how long we laid there.

I shiver there, in his arms, quiet and still and wondering if I'd come back to Earth. The first sensation I remember coming back to is his hand in my hair, petting me gently. Slowly, his face comes into focus, his large, dark eyes looking into mine.He's so beautiful, and he's so perfect, and I'm his.

"How are you feeling now?" His voice is ...

... gentle, mild.

"You know there's a French concept, about orgasms being like a small death? So I feel like I died. And then, I found some release and freedom. In Hinduism, there's this concept that's calledmukti, which means freedom, ormoksha - sort of, your mind is free, and your soul escapes from the cycle of death and rebirth. Liberation, you could say. But it also could mean your mind is free, you are fully actualized, you know yourself so well, it's a sort of mental and emotional freedom. I feel like that."

"Well, you must have come back from deep, deep subspace to have thought of all of thatand talked about the French and Hinduism. Little nerd." But he smiles when he says it. "I'm glad you're happy. I wanted you to have freedom from fear and anxiety. It seems you've found something like that, or maybe you've taken a significant step at the very least."

"But you enjoyed it?" I snuggle my face against the dark warmth of his chest.

"Yes, of course. It makes me feel free, too, to be able to hurt you so, and have you come back to me for more."

"May I ask you for something?"

"Yes."

"Could - could you take off your clothes? So I can feel your skin against mine, not in a sexy way, but so I could feel close to you?"

He moves away from the bed, and I watch him undress. His beautiful arms, laced with veins, just a little too big when compared to the sleek narrowness of his chest. His thighs, a runner's thighs are strong and muscular. His body is beautiful to ...