Your ass is Mine – 1

Afterwards, with a decidedly male smile of proud accomplishment, he told me that he was seriously concerned that he wasn’t going to be able to get hard when he was with me.  The overwhelming amount of stress he’s been under for the last 2 days because of some serious mistakes made by his upper management, made the possibility of non responsive penis, more probable than not. He was truly worried; even as he made his way up the elevator towards our room, it was on his mind and he hoped that it wouldn’t disappoint me too badly once I discovered his body, while willing, may not cooperate.

When he opened the unlocked door, he saw me in the vestibule, holding the ice bucket I had just picked up. I turned when I heard the door and smiled when I saw it was him. As I walked towards him, I reached out with my right hand, placing the bucket on the credenza, before wrapping my arms around his neck and shoulders to kiss him in the doorway, bags still slung over his shoulders and in his arms.

The re-connection kiss, after an extended absence, conveys so much inside its lusty embrace. The physical stamp of ownership, of re-claiming is seared between lips that search out to taste the familiar as wee inhale their scent, bringing the memory of their form back into your present. It’s hyper awareness of how the other person has imprinted on you and how much you appreciate the ability to touch them again. Emotionally, you surround each other in renewed feelings of trust and awareness; of the newness of someone who is familiar.

Breaking off the kiss, I pulled back, biding him to come into the room, put his bags down, advising him that I had missed him, was glad to see him. He kissed me again, once the bags were on the floor and then told me to grab the wine from his bag as he took up the ice bucket and went to fill it. With my back to the door, he returned as I was placing the lovely Pinot on the counter, beside the Cognac and I smiled as I felt him immediately behind me, reaching around to place the bucket on the counter.

I lifted the wine, placing it inside the ice, before I turned into his embrace, resuming our broken kiss. I could feel his erection pressing into me even as he stroked my back, my arms, my hair; kissing my lips, my cheeks, my jaw line and temple. I gave him the chance to discover me again before stepping back to remind him of who he was with. With my hand on the back of his neck, I firmly turned his head to the side so I could kiss his jaw and then his upper cheek, so I could whisper in his ear that he was over dressed.

He had entered the room carrying the weight of not just his bags but his position; the stress of his power and responsibility weighting him down and threatening to bury him under its avalanche of cold financial decisions. This is why he came to me. While he was with me, I would not let him stay in his masculine world of decisions and hard lines. With me, he was going to have to give up all vestiges of the man he showed the world and become subservient to my needs and wants. There was no room for pretense or refusal from him as those came with stern feminine consequences.

I slowly circled him, until I was at his back, one hand on the nape of his neck, the other slowly making its way down his chest and flat tummy, to cup balls and feel the length of his erection, pressing tightly against the dark blue material of his slacks. Purring against his ear, I licked the whorls and lightly nipped the lobe before saying, “Oh my, it looks like you might be slightly over dressed, don’t you think?” All the while, I was gently kneading his phallus as I continued to move from one side to the other.

“Yes, Mam”

I shifted the few steps around him, completing my circle, until I once again stood in front of him. I started unbuttoning his dress shirt, until my knuckles were grazing against his lower belly and the material was securely tucked inside the band of his pants, behind his belt. He reached up to undo it and I firmly slapped his hands away, with a raised eyebrow. “Really? I don’t think so”.

“I’m sorry, Mam”

I grasped the end of the belt, pushing it backwards trough the loop until I held the end so I could jerk it forcefully forward to remove the pin from the hole. The motion jerked him forward to me, eyes wide with the sudden movement, until he was pressed against me. I kissed his cheek, whispering, “Remember who you are with” before I slackened my grip, letting the belt feed backwards, so he naturally fell away from me to his original position.

With the belt now undone, I unbuttoned his pants so I could un-tuck the rest of his shirt.

I moved behind him, to slide his jacket off his shoulders and then walked to the closet to hang it up, letting him watch the sway of ass in the my black a line shirt with its pretty ruffled edge, as he stood where I had left him. When I turned back, I saw his eyes drifting over the mounds of my breasts and swell of my hips. I could see the deeper breathing that comes with arousal; move his chest beneath his open shirt.

Standing in front of him, I took his hand; kissing the top, the side, the palm, I bit into the fleshy part of his thumb, looking up into his eyes, before kissing the imprint of my teeth. I dragged my wet lips lower, over sensitive skin, to kiss the wrist I was holding. Looking into his eyes, I slid his hand down over my breast, resting it there on top of the pale pink of my delicate blouse, so he could feel the material and the flesh underneath it. I saw his eyes follow his hand and watched him swallow thickly as I started to undo the buttons at the wrist of his shirt, using by body as a perch.

I repeated the process with his other sleeve, letting him become even more excited from the contact. Once, I had removed his shirt to hang up, I came back and quickly gripped his undershirt and pulled it over his head, discarding it carelessly behind me. Standing before me shirtless, pants half undone, I began kissing him systematically, using my mouth and hands over his face, neck and torso, to touch and taste him. I wanted to arouse him beyond where he was, lightly scratching his skin with my nails to raise goose flesh.

Without preamble, I stepped back and pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles in a single motion and stood to push his chest hard, so he fell back onto the bed without a chance to catch himself. Delighted, a low and self pleased chuckle escaped me, as I watched the very evident state of his erection slap repeatedly against his hairy tummy, as his naked body bounced on the bed, with the crumpled slacks pulled tightly around his ankles.

Fully dressed, I crawled up and over him, straddling his hips and leaning forward so that my long hair fell in a curtain to one side of his head. As I lowered myself to kiss him, I whispered against his lips, “You’re mine you know. You and your ass, and I’m going to take my time in making sure you remember that tonight.”

Your ass is Mine – 2

This entry was posted in Affair, Dominatrix and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Your ass is Mine – 1

  1. 'Tis says:

    mmmmm, fanning myself over here….

  2. ismeisreallyme says:


  3. marcus says:


  4. Pingback: Your ass is Mine – 2 | rougedmount

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