Strap-On Queen
Wayne loved the way she looked in the harness, the way it nipped her waist down just a little, accentuating her hips, her hourglass figure. With her feet planted firmly apart and her shoulders squared, she looked hyper-female, a super heroine in the flesh.
A super heroine with a supple silicone cock hanging from the leather strapping between her legs.
At first, Wayne hadn't been sure about this, but seeing her in it . . . it soothed his doubts and laid his mind at ease. This was going to be fun, her expression said, no two ways about it.
She crooked a finger at him, made him slide to the edge of the bed where he sat, obedient and uncertain. She stepped nearer, his goddess, his beautiful idol. The thing was a rather ridiculously perky shade of bright blue, swirled with pearlescent glitter. It was shaped like a real cock.
It felt almost like one, too, though the skin didn't slide over it, and though it was (admit it) bigger than his, it wasn't quite as hard as his own.
He squeezed it, played with it, and she purred silkily, her lower lip between her teeth, and offered it to him jutting out of her fist, like a treat. Wayne sucked it, tasted a familiar salty tang on it and realized she must have covered it with her own juices before donning it.
The thought of her working it into herself had him squeezing his own shaft and diving on hers eagerly, chasing the traces of her taste.
"Do you like sucking my cock?" she asked in her husky contralto, painted eyes narrowed. "Do you like being my little whore?"
Taken aback a little by the bluntness of her language, he blinked up at her, then nodded almost shyly.
"Say it!" she urged, reaching down to twist his nipple. He gasped.
"Yes! I like being your. . . ." He hesitated.
"We went over the words," she reminded him.
"Your cock-hungry slut," he finished, feeling his face flush. This had all been his idea, really. But acting it out . . . this was something else.
"Get up on the bed, then," she demanded. "Get up there; I want to see your ass."
This, this was humiliating. But his cock throbbed with it and hung heavily as he climbed up among the pillows and the rumpled sheets. She positioned herself behind him, running a thoughtful hand over his ass, down to his balls, which she tugged playfully.
When she slipped a slick finger into him, he hissed between his teeth. It felt strange and new and . . . god, it felt good. She poured more lube on and added another, stretching him now so that he felt discomfort, but not pain. She prodded him deep inside and he throbbed in answer, feeling his cock twitch. Her chuckle raised his hackles. She was enjoying this far, far too much.
Second thoughts chased each other through his mind as she saddled up behind him, her weight shifting the bed. He didn't have time to formulate a real protest, to back down, before she had pressed the head of that thing against him and given a gentle push that sent it slipping up into him in one sharp, shocking motion.
Suddenly he was full, his ass stretched, the feeling so violently foreign that his heart pounded and cold sweat sprang up all over his body. He held still, trembling, hardly daring to breathe. It didn't hurt, but it would, it would at any second.
She drew back and plunged in again, and then it was pleasure, steady, hard pleasure grinding away at him, making his cock swell and pulse and leak, making him grab the sheets in incoherent need. He put his head down, and she grabbed his hips the way he always did to her, and proceeded to pound him enthusiastically.
"Is something wrong, slut?" she asked. Language no worse than what he used with her.
"No," he gasped.
"Why aren't you playing with yourself, then?" she prompted. He reached down and jerked his cock, face and other hand buried in the sheets. God, god it felt so good, the weight of her driving that smooth, pistoning cock into him again and again.
He felt himself tighten, the glide of her motion becoming a drag, a burn, as he clamped down, and then it exploded from inside him out, hard, draining spurts that flew from his cock and landed on the bedclothes, forced out in rhythm with her thrusts.
She laughed in happiness, slipped free of him and free of the harness, plastered herself to him gladly. His whole body tingled still, he felt giddy. A coaxing hand found its way around his cock and she lowered her lips to his for another teasing kiss, and he knew that the night was only getting started; though she'd satisfied one of his fantasies, he had yet to satisfy her.