Kitchen Table

He called me Saturday afternoon to see when I was going to come over. I had been dithering all morning, doing laundry and straightening up, and I wasn't sure when I would get to his house. "If you want to get fucked today," he said and then paused as I sharply inhaled, "then you had better get your ass over here soon."

"Ok, but I have to finish my laundry and..."

"No excuses. Get over here so I can fuck you. If you take too long, I'll make you wait until Sunday to get fucked."

"But..."

"No buts. Get your little ass here now."

I hurriedly got ready and, a mere hour later, I arrived at his house. He was sitting at the kitchen table and he pushed his chair back to look at me when I walked in.

"Take off your dress," he ordered without offering me a greeting first. "Take those off too," he said as he gestured dismissively at my panties. (Why did I bother wearing the cute pink lacy panties if he was going to make me take them off before he looked at them?) "Come here," he said a little more gently as he patted his lap.

I moved toward him and he pulled me into his arms. He took hold of my hair and pulled my face toward his, kissing me roughly, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. "Hi," he moaned as he pulled away and I smiled.

He turned me away from him on his lap and bent me forward at the waist. He started caressing my ass cheeks, then grabbing harder. "Oh god, I missed your ass," he groaned, "it is so beautiful." I moved on his lap, gently grinding my ass into his crotch and bending over further. "That's right," he said approvingly, "show Daddy your ass."

Finally, after I was so wet I was dripping on his jeans, he turned me back around to face him. I leaned down to undo his pants, pulling his cock out and pulling his jeans down to his knees. I straddled him on the chair and looped my feet on the side rungs for support. Then I slowly lowered myself onto his cock and started fucking him. I had missed the full feeling of having him inside me. I needed this so badly.

My head was thrown back and I was fucking him furiously. His hands were on my hips and he bounced me up and down on his cock while he encouraged me to come for him. I gripped the back of the chair as I screamed and came all over him. I was nearly oblivious to anything but my own orgasm. It was so powerful and I was fucking him with such abandon that I was outside of my head for one brief moment.

When I came back down, he pushed me onto the floor at his feet. I moved to take his cock into my mouth, but he held me back. "Worship, now," he said quietly. I knew what this was about. This was about our recent disconnection and my need to feel his ownership strong around me now that we had reconciled. He was making me worship and kneel at his feet at every opportunity.

I kissed his feet and curled up quietly on the floor beside him until he tapped me on the head and offered me his cock. "Beg for it," he sneered.

"Can I please have your cock, Daddy? Please?"

"You'll have to beg harder than that. Beg like a little slut."

"Please, please, can I have your cock in my mouth, please." On and on it went until he deemed that I was sufficiently worked up, that I wanted it badly enough.

I took him in my mouth and, before I could breathe, he started fucking my mouth roughly. His hips were up off the kitchen chair as he thrust into my mouth. I gagged slightly but he kept going, moaning as my spit dripped down onto his balls. He worked faster and my jaw started to ache, but I knew that he would never let up now, not as he was just about to come. He might choke me, I might not be able to breathe, but he would come in my mouth and come hard, exploding, pulsing his come down my throat. He would do that no matter what I wanted or how badly my knees hurt on the tile floor. He is my owner and he would use me however he liked, however hard he wanted, at any time.