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Mel Afoa ©


She waits beside him as he sleeps,
Smirking.
A plan has formulated from within her mind,
One she figured would be an express train,
Straight to cloud nine,
For both of them.
Mostly him.

Leaning against the bed head-post,
She glances towards him with narrowed eyes.
Vividly, flashes of last night's intimate adventure,
Her mind replays,
Memories of his wondrous torture,
His sinful seduction,
Oozing through her mind and igniting her body once more,
As she reminisces.
She sits there glaring at his sleeping form,
As she starts to feel lust all over again.
Obviously, it's his fault.

A random night watching the sports channel,
Turned into a night of the wildest passion,
An innocent hand over the thigh,
Made a full one-eighty,
And by the end of the night,
She had found herself with little hope of ever recovering,
Convinced he had left her thoroughly sated,
And thoroughly covered in his substance.
He made sure to make his mark, oh yes,
Plenty of them.
She tried to think of places where his teeth had not ventured too,
Coming up empty.
Not even her ankles survived his erotic bites,
Her inner thighs proudly showcasing the most,
Claiming his territory not only her body,
But everywhere else in between.

I should've made him suffer, she silently sulks as she sits,
Watching him as he turns in his sleep beside her.
She had no choice but to play the submissive role,
For she had absolutely no chance against his lust,
Begging him to end his torture,
To give her what she terribly yearned for,
To feel the force of his member inside her,
Pushing her boundaries as far as he wanted,
And boy, did he deliver.
The aching throb between her legs was proof of that.

                                       ---

 

Five minutes later, she had completed the knot,
Smiling evilly as she admires her handiwork.
She had been on the verge of exploring between her legs,
On her own, since her finger poking on his sleeping face failed,
Desperately craving an intimate touch,
To be explored with whatever organ dared venture,
And had drawn the conclusion that her fingers would have to do.
It was then that an idea had struck,
The perfect plan,
The sweet taste of revenge.
He had tortured her body for hours,
In different places, different positions,
And without a doubt, she had known that when an opportunity,
One as great and wicked as this, came along,
It had to be seized.
Or in his case, tied up.

Starting with his mouth,

She placed a soft kiss on his lips.
Nothing.
A few more kisses were left,
Some followed by her tugging at his lower lip,
Biting it softly, pulling it gently,
Slowly luring him into consciousness.
A few nibbles on his lower lip,
Then it was off lower, grazing her teeth on his jawline,
Sucking on the tip of his chin.
He twitched in his sleep, causing a smirk to appear on her features.
She quickly looked to her naked reflection in the mirror,
Noting the amount of small bruises and marks on her neck.
She started on his right side,
Licking at his skin, marking her territory,
And with no restraint left, and even sanity,
She bit down, hard.
She could feel him waking up slowly,
But alas, a plan was full in effect, with no stop button to be pressed,
And as he tried to slowly piece together what was happening,
Happily leaving lovebites, she was.

It takes a minute for his mind to make sense of what is happening,
But it is obvious that the enlarged bulge under the thing sheet,
Woke up before his mind did.
She laughs at his groggy state, pausing her exploration of his chest,
Before continuing the lengthy strokes of her tongue,
Holding his hips with her hands as she licks away,
Eyes closed, tongue out, in cloud nine.
Soon after, her eyes snap open and meets his as she feels him sit up,
Giggles filling the room as she watches him struggle,
His right arm tied tightly to the bedpost above his head.
Her turn.
Narrowed eyes is what she meets when she brings her gaze to his,
His mouth forming a small 'O',
Shock, lust, love and excitement swimming in his eyes,
Sheer lust the current dominator, though.
She ignores his, “What are you up to?”,
Instead focusing on throwing away the bed sheet that covers him,
For role-play can only last too long,
And explorations must come to a stand still;
Ain't nobody got time for that right now.

She pulls off the sheet, and watches with awe,
As his growing member stands tall and proud,
Almost as if it were up against a wall,
Hard and firm,
Ready to be touched.
Trailing her arms slowly down his sides,
She sits herself prettily on his hard thighs,
Bent low so his eyesight will have a wonderful view.
She pokes her tongue out, watching his eyes follow the movement,
And slowly, leans until the tip of her tongue,
Wet and ready,
Remains two inches from the tip of his member.
Deciding to swirl her tongue around it, without any touching,
She focuses on doing so,
Laughing inside as he groans.
Soon, her swirling turns even more teasing,
And without any warning,
Her tongue licks the tip.
She waits ten seconds, before licking the top once more.
Waiting another ten.
He starts the cuss at her, impatient and ready,
Nothing but lust swimming around in the bedroom.

Five minutes later,
She is going hard at her sucking.
He watches fascinated as she sucks,
Taking every inch in,
Nose right in on the thickness of his meat,
Bobbing up and down as she keeps her eyes on him,
Determined to send him into a state of frenzy.
He knows he should feel the pain of his right arm,
But at the moment, caring is the last thing he is doing,
Watching as she expertly takes his large member,
In and out, out and in,
Licking, rubbing and nibbling,
When she feels the need to pause her torture.
She knows what she is doing, that is sure.
Killing him, is what she has mastered.
One moment she would have her mouth full,
And then the next, she would just be straddling his hips,
Staring at him while he tries to move them,
Watching him wither.
He knows this is her revenge,
And so far she is playing well,
Smart he is, for he knows the torture won't dare finish,
Until he pleads.
He is a man, one with pride,
And prolonging it is his plan,
However, he can only remain stubborn for so long.
Her tongue will make sure of that.

She is determined to hurry up the process,
Revenge,
So she brings out the next best idea in her book.
The deadliest torture one can tease a man with.
She smiles as she releases his hips,
And with one last lick on his member,
She moves her body so that it is in the wanted position,
Her pink mound right next to his groin,
legs bent over his, her perfect behind on the bed between his legs,
And with determination, she sets off to work.

His eyes nearly fall out of their socket when he watches her,
Berating himself for not realising her plan sooner.
She is the devil, the evillest woman of sin.
He cannot look away from her as she sits opposite him,
Pleasuring herself.
Right next to him.
On top of his thighs.
Out of reach.
His eyes are fixed on her fingers,
Watching as they swiftly work in and out of her jewel,
Disappearing for a second, before appearing once more,
The process continuing on for what he feels is hours.
A minute more and his cock will fall off.
He nearly gives in when he sees that her fingers are glistening.
And just about dies when he watches as she slowly,
Teasingly, eyes never straying from his,
Places her fingers straight into her own mouth, and sucks away.
She is the devil reincarnated.
And she knows it.

There's no denying how much fun she is having,
Torturing him as he watches her pleasure herself,
Watching every single movement,
His expression glazed, hard-on full in view,
Throbbing, wanting to be touched.
She tortures him even further by moving forward,
And swiftly placing his member into her mould,
And then thrusting her hips around,
Watching him groan with satisfaction and need,
Eyes closed, his free hand digging into her hips.
She laughs, before hopping off,
Smirking as she sees him open his eyes immediately,
Looking at her questionably,
Pleading.
She giggles, before pleasuring herself once more.

It takes ten more minutes of her hopping on and off,
At the most random times,
Just when he feels he is about to start increasing the pace,
Before he finally pleads with her,
Begs her to untie his arm,
So that he could be released from his prison,
And satisfy his hunger.
When she decides his continuous pleading is enough,
Untie him, she does,
And she is immediately commanded to turn around and bend,
On her arms and knees.
Head down, ass up.
She giggles, submitting.
He wastes no time in pounding that pootang.

Around noon, he realises one thing as he lies in bed,

Arms wrapped tightly around her,
Holding her as she sleeps.
Why didn't he use his free hand to untie himself?
Him = 1, Her = 1.
She was good, he'd give her that.
He couldn't wait to see who won the next round.