Sydney

His fingers went back to my robe, eventually taking it off completely. I shuddered beneath his gaze now that I was completely naked.

He almost said to himself, "Lovely."

"How could I blame myself for desiring you?"

He pressed his hands against my thighs and opened them wide again, giving him complete and total access to my womanhood. He dropped his mouth this time. I was acutely aware of the fresh encroachment of every touch as he kissed along my sex, his stubble more ticklish than ever. I'd never been kissed 'there,' and it was a strangely arousing experience. He moved farther in, unfazed by my squirms, and I froze as he approached the opening of my lips. I took a deep breath and was immediately confronted by his tongue pressing into me. My breathing began to have an odd, shallow pattern. His tongue was inside of me, warm and wet against my walls, and there was nothing I could do to stop it from inflicting horrible delights on me. His tongue found the pink nub of my sex after the focus halted. He flicked once, twice, each touch tantalisingly light, before closing his mouth and softly sucking around the nub.

"Oh, my God!" I was quickly surrendering myself to him, unable to fight the surge of pleasure that was sweeping over me. Nothing could be done about the uneven trembling, the indescribable sensations developing within me, even if my hand managed to stop the worst of my whimpers. "Please... stop," I begged haltingly.

"Oh? Is it what you're looking for? "The same taunting tone came to the fore as he inquired.

He abruptly withdrew, leaving me with a painful ache at my most vulnerable time, when I was about to burst. Of course, I resisted giving him the pleasure of seeing it - but even my breathing had betrayed me, sounding more like pants in delicate and pleasantly increasing beats. He refocused his attention on the task at hand. He suckled on the tender tiny nub, his tongue penetrating once more to extract unwanted pleasure. After a teasing flick of his tongue, he retreated just as I was about to be overwhelmed. This sweet torment continued; he teased me again, only to abandon me just as I was about to snap. I was practically worked up to a frenzied state, and I had to clench down even more against the whimpers that threatened to break through. I couldn't stop moaning since he had withdrawn again again.

I pleaded, "Please."

"My poor wife," he said, with not the remotest note of sincerity. "Do not worry. I will grant you your relief."

His hand moved to his jeans, yanking them down and discarding them at the bed's foot with the rest of the abandoned clothing. Despite my best efforts, my gaze was drawn to the exposed protruding cock. "I don't believe -"

He muttered, "Shh." As he glided over me, his hands held my wiggling body, making any escape impossible. I shuddered again and again, my already shaky breathing becoming much more so. His head prodded a few times before pushing its way through. He crept in slowly, pressing more and more into me. I felt every inch of him, felt myself stretching around him, felt my eyes close against the starburst. And just when I thought every crack and crevice within had been filled, that I couldn't envisage any further invasion - he pushed even harder, and I gasped as I felt the strain, forced to yield even more to his stiff length. My legs pressed against him as I shuddered beneath him, muscles tightening around his big cock.

"Say you want it," His lids were lowered, his breathing heavier with lust. "Say my name".

He began to withdraw with the same painful slowness, and I felt myself tighten and unclench around him.

"You can't....," I pleaded, not meaning it.

"I can, and I will." The penetration was faster this time. I stiffened as he once more sheathed himself.

I struggled, in vain - he was too heavy, his hands too strong over mine. I also knew I wasn't putting real effort in resistance - how could I, when, as gloriously overwhelming as it was, it also felt so good? As I lay powerless and writhing under him, he began thrusting, his cock impaling me with a slowly rising rhythm, taking whatever pleasure he desired from my body.
Then he began to resume his other attentions. Still moving, he lowered his lips to my breast, clamping teeth to suck - before, thinking better of it, shifting to dote on my neck instead. His hands trailed down, finding their way to cup my breasts with rough and fondling fingers.

"I know this what you crave as well," he whispered, and I was far too overwhelmed with all these stimulations to think of a reply. "Give in to me Sydney."

Any inhibition was slowly but steadily ebbing away as he moved faster and more violently. As he hammered into me, my hands shifted on their own, aimlessly groping over his muscles. Over his back, my nails left imprints of tiny white crescents in groups of four. I couldn't think of anything more to say. The quiet and lovely mewls, the irrepressible sighs, and the quivering breaths were all there. Words were eluding me, and I was entangled in a web of rebellious pleasure. I couldn't connect two thoughts any longer. He was suckling on my throat at the same time as kneading my sensitive breasts with calloused kneading and a maddeningly tight friction on my womanhood. As I shook beneath him, my legs clung to him for dear life.
His self-restraint wasn't boundless either. As pleasure consumed me, it overtook him as well. He pummelled in, deep and hard, scarcely noticing such inconsequential things as my nails on his back or the bite marks, he was leaving over my exposed neck. Such was the force of his ravaging that each thrust sent my breasts swaying, my body trembled under the weight of his onslaught. One of my hands was threading its way into the back of his hair, traversing the geography of his powerful back. My neck had stretched to make more room for his teeth to graze. My body screamed for more, and more, and more. It was strange to despise the notion of him but love the way he made me feel.
Soon his hot seed filled into me timed with his low throaty groan.

The climax washed over me in a wave in the final few strokes. The backs of my eyelids flickered with distant stars as I spasmed around him. As I tightened again for him, I let out a final gasp. The heady rush of it all left me disoriented and short of breath as a sudden jolt of pleasure coursed through my body as the warmth of it spread down to my fingertips and toes. My limbs slipped from him as I gradually regained my consciousness, resting limply against the bedsheets. I waited silently and patiently for him to leave before dragging my body back to the bed's comfortable edge.
He sat down alongside me on the bed, and the mattress sagged under his weight. I turned away so that I did not have to look at him in shame and defeat.

"So, you're trying to convince me you didn't enjoy any of it?" I could hear the smile in his voice as he said it.

I did not answer. I was too mortified by my wantonness. Instead, I curled up, as though shrinking into myself. How was I supposed to live with me?