INTIMATE

I can feel the fabric of the sheet slide against the rawness of my back as I move in my face-up position on the bed.  I’m still a little sub-spacey from the whipping she gave me earlier, and the rubber rope she has tied round my balls is pinching, adding a sharp sting to the throbbing tightness.

A knee either side of my head positions her soft wetness just above my mouth and gives her access to my tightly-bound cock.

My senses are full of her, all my senses. I can feel the touch of her hands on my cock; I can see the beautiful curves of her arse just above me; I can hear her soft encouragement; I can smell her sweet scent and, Oh My God, as my tongue traces a first exploratory line along the length of her cunt, I can taste her. I feel she is in every part of me, overwhelming me with her glorious womanhood.

This is my Mistress and I can’t quite believe I’m here, tied to the bed with her leaning over my face.

Bound as I am, I have just enough movement to let my tongue do its work, slowly tracing her most intimate contours, lingering at the soft peak of her clitoris and meandering through the deep valley of her labia. I take my time, savouring the beautiful hotness and the intimacy; not wanting to destroy the moment by getting ahead of myself.

Slow licking; backwards, forwards, backwards, forwards.

“Lovers,” tweeted an escort I used to see, “Lovers, it’s slowww, like licking an ice cream, not fast like…” I forget what it wasn’t fast like, but no ice cream ever felt so soft on my tongue nor tasted so perfect.

Her response is muted at first, but I persevere. I know a bit about Elita’s orgasms from conversations with her, and I know this is not a sprint I’ve started here but a country walk that must be allowed to find its own pace and rhythm.

Backwards and forwards, starting at her clitoris, feeling it between my lips, then slowly through her labia with my tongue.  Again; clitoris…. labia…. clitoris… labia.

Her smell, her wetness, the beautiful, sweet taste of her.

She squeezes my nipples hard between her finger nails; not (I think) as an act of dominance, but as an integral part of this supremely intimate sex, knowing as she does that this special pain is more sex than sex for me.

clitoris…labia…

pause

clitoris….labia…

Her orgasm arrives slowly and without fuss. It’s a gentle, soft thing that seems to creep up on us, taking her over one slow lick at a time. I sense a change in her movements and her responses, low sounds slipping out with each breath. Her breathing accelerates a little and I let me own rhythm increase slightly, applying just a little more pressure with my tongue, enjoying the moaned response.

As her orgasm engulfs us both, I lose all sense of whether she’s keeping pace with my movements or I’m matching hers, but somehow we move together in a perfect, intimate harmony.

I sense the moment she gives herself up to it, releasing her agency and control’ not to me but to the orgasm itself as it rushes through her.

It’s so beautiful. To see Elita, my powerful Mistress, so lost inside herself, so…. so… so ‘vulnerable’ that a surge of powerful emotion rushes through me in time with her orgasm. For her to expose this much of herself to me feels like such an act of intimacy and trust that I don’t quite know where to put it.

As her orgasm slowly ebbs and she stills, my tongue is still against her clitoris, touching it with no more weight than a butterfly on a flower. Slowly, ever so slowly, she moves backwards and forwards, just a few centimetres, feeling the butterfly touch of my tongue against her clitoris as she recovers her sense of herself and comes down from the high I just helped her to reach.

It’s possibly the most intimate act I have ever experienced.

 

Elita told me after our session that her Grandfather had died that morning. Ever the consummate professional, there was no sign in our session that her focus was on anything other than me, her client. I did wonder if afterwards if the sad news had had any bearing on our session, on the whipping she gave me or the soft intimacy I describe here