Serious Moonlight - Sex Stories

Serious Moonlight

... rules.”

“Still, that’s how I thought you’d be. Gentle and slow. But you were…fucking me. Not making love. Fucking me.” Her hand drifted to the belt around her neck. She pulled it experimentally; the loop tightened. Her smile broadened. She blushed. She said, “You bite. You tear. You choke.”

“Yes, love.”

“I didn’t expect that.”

“Me either,” he said. “You bring it out in me.”

“I do?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

She purred contentedly.

He asked, “Can I tell you something?”

“Yes, dear.”

He paused, debating whether to tell her. “This was the hottest fuck I’ve ever had.” Her face beamed. He continued. “I’m different with you. We are different.”

“My love.” Her hand moved to her neck, between the belt and her skin.

“I’m a little sore.” Her eyes widened, suddenly panicked. “You bruised me. Did you bruise me? On my neck? I can’t see my neck, I can’t tell.”

“Yes. There’s a bruise.” He exhaled an involuntary, if proud, snort of laughter.

“No!” She jumped out of bed and walked quickly to the mirror. “You did!”

“And I enjoyed doing it.”

“At work. They will notice at work. They will know what I did this weekend.”

He watched her as she peered into the mirror, naked, fingers gingerly examining the flesh of her neck. “That’s really hot,” he said.

“What will they think?” She was tracing the suggestion of a bruise along her neck.

“They will think it’s really hot, too. All those people at work will know what you were doing this weekend. ...

... As you lean over their desks. Or pass them in the hallway. That I was fucking you. That I was marking you.”

She lowered her eyes.

“They’ll be fantasizing about you.”

She blushed.

“As they fuck their wives. Or their girlfriends.” His cock began to stir. He was getting hard. She noticed he was getting hard. He noticed that she noticed.

“Or boyfriends,” she said, meeting his gaze now, not directly, but through the conduit of the mirror.

“Yes.”

“They will know I own you. I marked you. You’re mine. They will want you, but only I get you.”

She turned to face him. Her mouth was slack. Her eyelids were half-closed. “You marked me,” she said, the register of her voice lower, huskier.

He rolled toward her. “And I am about to do it again.” She walked to him. He stood and took the belt in his hand in a gesture gentle enough to invoke his taking her hand and leading her up the stairs, their first time together, months ago. He led her to the bed. He kissed the reddened skin on her neck with elaborate care. She shivered and sighed as his lips began working their way down toward her nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, scraping the sides of her tender skin with his teeth. He bit down softly.

Then he bit down hard.

He took the belt and doubled it in his fist, tightening it as she howled.

*

Hours before, he had been late picking her up at the airport, as usual. He was late for everything. But the airport made it so much worse, every terminal looked the ...