My Name is Mud

These characters and scenes are figments of my imagination, please don't take them.

this first chapter is almost sickeningly sweet, this is the only WAFF scene in this story
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It’s an amazing thing to have someone who only wants to please you. Being pampered is such a luxury, one I try not to take for granted. His lips are soft, and warm. They caress my skin. I’m sitting back and he is beside me, hunched over me. He wants me to give into him, I haven’t decided if I will yet. In the meantime he’ll do anything and everything he can. His every action is begging me, and I cannot help my indifference. He’s so aggravated with me, all I can do is smile coyly, and I can tell he really just wants to throw me down onto the bed and ravage me. He reasons that I wouldn't fight, but he doesn't force me. I enjoy the feeling of his lips on my skin, traveling over my chest, above my breasts, he’s trying to tease me, and it’s working, as soon as he stops I tense. My head rests on his arm, muscular, strong, hard. His fingertips are feathers, taking invisible paths over my body. I am clothed, but just barely in a silk nightie, and he undressed long ago, now exposed to my eyes. I’m sure that if he had stayed dressed I would have succumbed long ago, just to see him, his lean body. He leans back and I rest against his chest, across him. He puts his right arm around me, holding me, almost trapping me against him. His hand rests on my thigh. He starts stroking me. His left hand goes up under my top, over my stomach, stopping to knead it ever so slightly, a small sound escapes my lips. But he hears it, and he knows he’s winning. He does not grasp my breasts, but strokes the space between them, making me wish he would massage them. Then lips. Sweet, soft lips on my ear, he moans so slightly in my ear as he nibbles the skin. My right arm still rests along the back on the chaise, but my left, reaches back, I run my hand through his thick long hair. His hair is soft like a womans. His lips stay on my ear, his left hand staying under my shirt, the right hand has left my thigh, stroking my cheek. Running his thumb over my lips, slight pressure and I yield. His skin is salty, and toughened, the way it should be. I feel engulfed in him, I suck on his thumb, I keep drawing it in, but then pushing it out, he has me and he knows it.

I turn and straddle him. My hands run over his chest, so well defined, hard but not uninviting. He smiles broadly. “My little kitten wants to play now?”

“Mmm.” I assent, it’s a deep guttural sound. He rips my silk nightie, and devours my breasts. He sucks on them long and hard, he pinches the nipples, and I cry out in pleasure. I tear his mouth away from my breasts and I kiss him hard on the lips, I keep drawing his tongue in, the way I did his thumb. He lifts me up, and I know we’re going to the bed. I fall back onto satin sheets. His eyes glide over my body, I know I glisten in the candle light, I wait in breathless anticipation, I never know what he will do to me. One minute he can be treating me like I’m glass, the next he has handcuffed me to the bed, but for now my arms are free.

“Close your eyes.” He orders me. I do so immediately. For awhile I hear nothing, then something tickles my stomach. My body quivers, chills run down me, and he laughs easily. His knuckles run over my breast and nipple, my back arches slightly and my mouth opens in a quiet moan, imploring him. Cool wetness, smell of jasmine. It’s my favorite oil, he rubs it into my skin. I feel the mattress give with his weight, his hands rub oil into my thighs, and I feel his hot breath against my sex, and I shiver. He laughs, the air movement causes me to quiver. I almost can’t wait for his lips, sweet, soft on my skin. I bite my lip to keep from begging him, he watches my every movement, and I feel that he knows I’m biting my lip, holding in my desire, because he rests his cheek against my shaved vagina. It’s all I can do to keep from pressing myself against him, by keeping myself from moving I moan loudly. His nose is on me, nudging me, his lips, oh god I need his lips, his tongue. But I also feel cold metal. A tongue ring. He put it in, he knows how I love it. He knows where to find me, and the cool metal gets to me every time. I start screaming his name.

He tries to stop, to tease me, I press my hand against his head, I won’t let him stop. I feel the muscles move as he smiles. He goes back to work on me. He stops again after sometime, but I know why this time. He clasps my hands as he thrusts into me, and I open my eyes, looking directly into his. He lets go of my hands, running them over my arms, I clasp the bars of the headboard. I buck under him, and he loves it. I’m his nymph, I know how he likes it, but he knows my body even better. I am fully and wholly his.

“You made me work today Kitten.” He says playfully, as he presses me closer against him. He likes the feel of my breasts against his chest.
“It was a change of pace.” He looks me over.
“What do you want to do about it?” I ask.

He smiles mischievously, ready to go again. “Riding crop.” He tells me. I smile and kiss him, the surface of his eyes says he’s going to be annoyed, but underneath he loves it. I walk to the dresser, swaying my hips, my butt dancing for him. I bend to the lowest drawer and open it, it’s full of his toys. I put it in my mouth and go back to the bed on all fours. My breasts hanging, it’s a good show for him. He takes my long hair in his fist and pulls me up, it hurts, but I’m used to it, but still I make a moan of pain because it drives him on. I stand before him. He lets go of my hair and gets up, taking the riding crop from my mouth. I hear him pouring a drink behind me. I hate it when he stops paying attention to me, but I dont make a sound.

The thin piece of leather stings as he spanks me. He's being deliberately lazy about it, but then a quick succession, I close my eyes, and my mouth opens. Long moans are elicited. He runs the crop lengthways against my back, pressing it in certain places, sometimes drawing back to hit, sometimes not. He leaves the crop against me as he orders me to turn. He strokes the leather against my stomach, i know there are angry red lines crossed all over me. The loop tickles my skin, but I don’t dare laugh. He uses the loop to trace paths over my chest, nudging my nipples back and forth, I can’t help moaning. He snaps and I drop to my knees automatically. As I take his cock into my mouth he strikes me harder. His penis is eight inches. I grasp the base of it with my hand, so I can encompass all of him. No, he won’t have my hand, he smacks my hand away and pushes me deeper onto him. He’s forcing me to deep throat, and won’t let me up at all. I gag and he just laughs. He gets nearer to orgasm and hits me harder, my vagina is dripping, I want him, with each sting of the crop I want him more, and he knows it.

After I swallow he draws out of me, he hasn’t told me to move, and so I don’t. He’s behind me, but tells me to lie on the bed again, on my back. He actually blindfolds me this time. I feel glass over my skin. It’s a glass cock, wider, bigger than his own. He teases me with it, running it around my vagina, getting it wet, he moves, so his knee is now pressed against my clitoris. "Suck it" he orders me dngerously quiet. His knee is creating friction against my clit, and my mouth is being stretched by a glass cock. But for him this isn't enough. He starts sucking in my breast, I manage to moan, and his tongue just flicks my nipple.

Without warning he pulls the cock out of my mouth drives it into sex. He drives it hard, and it pleases him more than me, its so big it hurts, he keeps hitting my spot, but in a different, harsher way way. When I come I am panting, and moan more in relief as he draws it out of me. He goes to the bathroom and washes it off, placing it back on the dresser. I haven’t fully recovered from the harshness yet. He sits on the bed next to me. He kisses the palm of my hand, the sweet, soft lips.

But I draw my hand away from him. Getting up I grab silk robe hanging from the door, and sit outside on the veranda. From fifty stories up I look out around me on Manhattan. He gives me some time, and then sits next to me on the cushioned bench, he’s put on black pants, he’s still barefoot. He’s looking at me anxiously. I smile softly and turn to him. I put my hand on his cheek, run my fingers down it, and he relaxes. I kiss him gently. “I’m s—” he puts his finger against my lips to shush me. He holds me as I lean against him.

"You seem to forget your place sometimes, Kitten." He tells me still quiet.
I dont look up at him, I know what smile is playing across his lips.

I remember how this all happened.