La Chateau d'Ausus

[Vail_Indigo]

and there's nothing but joy when her lips touch mine, like the last day of school before summer break

my body pulls her in, making her conform to me and letting limbs tangle loosely as I revel in her taste and the pure heat of contact

She is my rock, my center, my place to stand that I may move the earth.
I was a very, VERY, good girl in a past life

 

[Ausus_girl13]

I can't help but cling to her. She keeps me safe when I feel my world shaking. And it is. In this moment I am safer no where else.

I breathe her in and seek to transform the world into a place where it's just me and her.

I fail miserably.

 

[Vail_Indigo]

she lets me feel strong, makes me feel strong, and I share it right back with her. She's in my arms and there is nothing that will touch her here except me.
I simply won't allow it.

This is mine.

 

[Light Ice]

I like it here. It's never boring. Even in the moments, those rare and few moments, when the girls are not up to their typical mischief and deviancy I can count myself fortunate for the views the Chateau provides and the small repairs and projects that keep me busy.

Like this one.

The light switch doesn't need to be replaced. I simply clean the contacts. Aware, almost vaguely, that I'm being far less productive than my typical stuff.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

I hear him tinkering around downstairs. It's like a siren song. Jeans, the tool-belt, I am sure by now his shirt is off. Of course. Hiring a sex on a stick handyman means I never get anything done.

But I so love to deny him, subtle tease that I am. Ohhhkay... not so subtle.

Pulling on my boots, I give a once over in my mirror. White dress, black knee high boots- win. The clicking down the marble step makes me happy, and there he is. In all his glory. Yummy.

Oh, he watches me, turns and waits for me to come to him. Of course I do... can't be helped. Arms around me almost instantly. I love it when a man knows there is a game afoot.

A soft kiss pressed against his lips, and I whisper.

"Work. But I expect something will be along shortly to keep you company, in these long hours I am not here to amuse you."

A tinkling laugh, a lick to his bottom lip and I head out the door.

 

[Light Ice]

I'll remember this. All of it. Watching her slide off, all sex and swaying hips and delicious curves. Those boots. Fuck me.

For now, I let her go. But I'll remember. This floor is glossy.

I can imagine the scuff marks those boots would make as she fought me, dragging her by that pretty red hair, all the way down the hall.

 

[Nina327]

here ya go..

 

[Ausus_girl13]

Getting read for bed. Tired and yet... not. My curves swathed in black silk, my heels bright red, like I am preparing for something.

I need. I need... a drink. Tossing a robe over my shoulders, tingling happily at the clicking of my heels on the marble hallway, strolling past the library, the extra rooms, and into the kitchens, sneaking into the wine fridge for a bottle.

A sauvignon blanc, tasty, tart. Like me. Ha, alright I think I am funny. Sipping it, staring out the french doors onto the lawn. Is it crazy to want the night air on my skin?

I stay put. Take another sip and dream.

 

[Light Ice]

Pinot. It's dark and satisfying, heavy on my palette. I take long pulls from the glass, content at my place along the bar. And then she's there, stalking past. A lean little shape, a lithe collection of curves, not taking stock of me as she cuts her way across the floor and outside.

The air is cold out there. The nip on the breeze sharp. A mountain's blessing.

I'm after her in a moment, quick enough to see the sultry little sway of her hips come to an end as she stands amidst the dark. There's no hesitation in my play. A simple one. The stretch of my broad hand along the lean line of her spine, above the swell of her backside. The fabric that veils her body from me is impossibly sheer. It denies me almost nothing.

"Evening, A."

My hand slips lower, rests on the soft swell that begins her backside. It lingers as we stand there. Gathering in the dark.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

Like a spectre in the night, he appears at my side and I can't help the shiver the alights over my skin, wrapping my arms around myself.

The night is clear, and the sky twinkling. I step closer to him, trembling again. Is it the cold or his nearness?

"Evening Ice. Look." I point to the stars. "Big dipper. Gorgeous yes?"

 

[Light Ice]

Like a spectre in the night, he appears at my side and I can't help the shiver the alights over my skin, wrapping my arms around myself.

The night is clear, and the sky twinkling. I step closer to him, trembling again. Is it the cold or his nearness?

"Evening Ice. Look." I point to the stars. "Big dipper. Gorgeous yes?"

Constellations. She's unwittingly stumbled upon a romantic hobby of mine. A slice of something that inspires the dreamer in me, and the geek, and the gentler sides that loom somewhere beneath all the rest. I touch her. I wrap her up. All at once she is embraced by her own, beautiful little hands and the larger, uglier counterparts that are my own.

I hold her. Touch her. I run my hands along her arms and the sleek sides of her body, feel her shiver against the rugged stretch of my frame.

"Gorgeous." I agree, looking from her and to the stars. It takes effort. Discipline.

Because she is sinfully elegant and I want her. Here.

There are others. Many. I cannot stop myself from counting them, finding them. Familiar eyes don't waste time. The sky here is inspiring. The feel of her more so. I am already hard despite the cold.

She has a power over me that way. I don't bother denying it.

"Which is your favorite?"

 

[Ausus_girl13]

With obvious passion in his voice he points out his favorites, he knows them and my eyes search the stars with the new knowledge. I am just happy to listen to the soft timbre against my ear.

"My favorite? I know the stories of the constellations, but I haven't been able to ever really point them out. Course," I pause and turn in his arms to look up into his eyes, "of course the story of cassiopeia has always been one of my favorites, destined to spend forever in the night sky with her skirt over her head." I giggle softly.

Yeah okay. Night time, stars, me in lingerie, it feels like a set up. It's a little too romantic. But at least he's hot. And now he's hard. This could get interesting.

 

[Light Ice]

It is interesting. It's intoxicating.

For me these are moments of fantasy. I am inseparable from the romantic that lies within me and she, for all her many different kinks, somehow tolerates it in me. I am slow and sweet at times. Words that, in this place and so many others, are not oft considered synonymous with passion. When she turns in my arms, I do not gather her up right away. I let my fingers play along her spine, feel its shape beneath my palms.

I touch her, gather her into me once again.

She is soft and sleek and sensual. Beautiful. The red hair darker now in the dim light of the dark, our bodies backlit by the glow escaping the Chateau. My kiss finds her brow. It finds her nose. It finds the soft smooth of her cheek and finally, finally, it finds her lips.

I drink her up. Her breath. The way she breathes against me, settles into me. The contrast of her warmth is a bold beacon against the night's chill. My tongue slips past her lips and finds hers.

But it will take more than a kiss to chase away that cold.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

He's cute. He thinks that his romantic notions and ideals throw me. But that's not what I see. The seed is there, I can see it. It's part of why he intrigues me so much. He's powerful, and it comes through in his style. But sometimes it's as if he isn't ready for it. That it's too much.

This is what slides through my brain before he erases it with a kiss. Those fucking lips of his, soft and yielding, unlike every other inch of that body.

My hands, unbidden snake around his shoulders and the robe slips from my shoulders, the air caressing my skin.

Suddenly, I know what I am craving. What I have been craving all night. I nibble on my bottom lip and eye him through my lashes.

"Are you off for the night?" A smile. "Or am I paying you?"

 

[Light Ice]

Paying me? I could answer her. There is a clever turn of phrase here. I can feel it rattling in my brain, hidden amidst other images and other words. But it won't come out, can't come out. She is looking up at me in the dark and the robe has slipped enough, slid enough, that I can see her lean shoulders and the way her breasts stand against the sheer fabric of her nightgown.

You'd have to be here to know what she inspires, the feelings. The desires. Such a slight, lissome little thing with such astounding command. My prick is hard. Raging. I swear that I can feel my pulse inside it, guiding it to flex against her smooth belly. My jeans do nothing to conceal it or its heat.

"Sounds like a negotiation." I manage.

Deflecting. My hands arch down and she's so soft, so impossibly soft. I can feel her ass accept my fingers and cinch my grip down, take hold of her, pull her against me.

"What's your pitch?" A challenge.

Because this game of ours is always fun. Always with an edge. Because the goal is to get us both to that place where restraint fails and the primitive takes over. She knows it. I know it. Under a night sky, romantic as the movies can manage, we are speaking nasty things. Dirty. Filthy. Satisfying things.

In our own language.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

"What's your pitch?"

I chuckle. He plays the game almost as well as I do. We both love the give and take, push and pull, in and out of it.

One hand pressed against his chest, sliding downward. To look into my eyes is to know exactly what I am going to do. And he does. He sees it coming as my hand slides lower, over the strong muscled frame of his belly, the smirk at the corner of his mouth propels me. There it is, the palm of my hand pressed flat against the tent of his jeans, I lightly rub there.

A tilt of my head and a soft grin. This is a fun little game.

"Do I need a pitch?" Catch and return. He talks, I act. We both win.

 

[Light Ice]

"No, boss." A teasing moniker.

My prick aches and she torments it. Captures the heat of it in her palm, the impossible hardness of smooth, soft flesh. I indulge in the subtle grind her small hand manages, the pressure, the impossible sensations that arc through me. I want, so ferociously, that my own hand slips down and works the clasp of my jeans open. It works the zipper down, though the teeth part under the weight of my cock before it springs free.

"F-fuck."

It rips from my lips. Rumbles from my throat. Her small hand is cooler than my prick, my impossibly hard prick. It throbs in her hand. It jerks. It leaks great, huge, full dollops of precum from its plump crown and wets her fingers and palm. And she strokes me. Slowly. Pumping her little hand over my shaft.

I do not kiss her.

Instead, I give her this moment. Submit to it. I lay my forehead on her lean shoulder and breath into the soft flesh beneath my face, soak up the scent of her as she works my cock with wicked attention.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

"Boss."
I love it. Comes with it's own little flush of power.

He frees himself with the same eagerness that he spoke about the constellations earlier. He hard and in my hand and it's so damn big, my hand barely making it around the shaft.

And then his head on my shoulder, he's barely breathing with each stroke. Him working for me is like having my very own paid toy. A simple dirty little joy for me.

Course all this power over him, doesn't stop me from sinking to my knees before him. A cock like this one deserves a little worship. Or a lot.

A soft little moan and I am leaning forward to swirl my tongue tentatively around the head. His taste is all him, my tongue dripping with precum, which I lap up eagerly. My lips fit around the head and I close my eyes for a moment and suck gently.

This is what I've been craving.

 

[Light Ice]

Power.

In romance it is a tentative thing. It is a fickle companion. Here, in the dark, she takes it with her hand and yields it with her lips. The soft caress of her mouth, wet and hot, enveloping the spongy head of my crown. I indulge in the moment, in every sensation. The drag of her tongue along my skin and the silky friction of her lips as she bobs down on me. Once. Twice. It is a rhythm, slowly building. My fingers knit in her hair, ride out what she offers, feels pleasure.

And then I take from her what I have given. Power.

I take it with a spread of my strong hands along the back of her head. My fingers, long and rough, ball up her red hair in two big fists. Hard. Ungentle. It is the only warning I give her before I rock my hips forward, slam my prick deep, claim her throat and the entirety of her mouth.

And when I withdraw it's barely enough for her to take a breath before I feed her it again, fucking her gorgeous face. Taking what is mine for the night.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

Tenuous. It's a tight little thing we do. Or he does depending on the POV. One moment I am being gentle and sweet with that hard meat, the next?

Well, the next I am already breathless with my throat full of that pole. Again, love that I've pushed him to that point. He fucks my mouth with no finesse, and I don't complain. Not that I could get a word in edgewise. He stuffs his cock down my throat and I gag, and whimper around the length, add in the slurping and it only sounds like I am asking for more.

I look up at him, he's got that hard edged look on his face, the one that says, you will do this, and we will enjoy it, and we aren't done till you're covered in thick white ropes of jizz, panting from the fucking I've given you ready to fall over and die in an orgasmic mess of our making.

Alright, so that last part is all me, but still.

He fucks my lips, like he's got my number. He knows that I want, need, and dream of moments like this.

On my knees, under the night sky, wearing something see through and silky, with my nose pressed against his smooth belly and his cock slick and shoved down my throat. There is drool running over my neck and covering my tits. What a mess.

It's so fucking good.

 

[Light Ice]

She, taking what I give her. Those eyes, those gorgeous green eyes, lit and catlike as they look up at me. She is such a good girl. Such a salacious thing. The temptation to take her throat, her lips, and paint her in my cum is ferocious. Unyielding. It pulls at me as I look down at her and watch as her nose mashes to my hard belly and my balls smack heavily against her wet chin. I love her sloppy. I love it because she is beautiful this way, stripped of the pomp and pageantry that dominate her and every other woman I have known.

The nightgown is wet, soaked from her saliva. Her make-up is running. Her hair is a mess from my hands gripping it, releasing it, and gripping it again. I pull her off my cock, choking and gasping, and then slam her back down onto it. Adoring that we are reaching that primitive place where we are both shells of ourselves, ruins of the people that the world knows us as.

I cannot wait any longer.

When she comes off my cock this time her mouth pops, audibly. Evidence that I am not just mindlessly taking her throat, but she is sucking on me as well. Greedy slut. Greedy, delightful, wonderful little slut.

I shove her back on the grass. Her heels fall as my hips spread her thighs and her legs come up around me.

When I kiss her my face is wet with her spit and I do not mind. Her mouth tastes like my cock, my flesh, and there is something wonderfully dirty about that. Here, with our clothes still clinging to us and the cool air against my skin, I forget that we are in the shadow of luxury.

And when I thrust, I fill her up. I fill her wet tunnel with my hard cock, stretch her around its girth, and sink deep into her belly. This will not be gentle. We would not stand for it. For now, beneath me, we are in the lover's clutch and my hips rock from here. I drag them back and thrust deep, spear her on my prick, impale her on its long and ferocious inches until I can feel the grass and ground beneath us yield to our weight.

And I am fucking her hard. I am making her mine in this instant. I am claiming that gorgeous cunt with every thrust.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

The grass is freezing and sticks to my skin poking me in a myriad of places, and then he does. Pokes me in a big way. Such language, stripping it down, not giving it the proper respect.

What I should say is that my legs are locked around his hips, and every inch of my cunt accepts and pulls him deeper, coating that shaft again in my juices. I rest on my elbows and let him rise above me, fucking me with an intensity that is all us.

"Fuck me. Mmm. Harder. Ooh please sir."

I try the word on him. See what it does, and my words are whispered in his ear. For him. To look at us from the house this little interplay of power wouldn't be obvious. It's just a man fucking a woman...albeit fucking her very well.

I don't talk overtly dirty to him, it's not totally my style. I can. But it takes a little, though everything I do... is all me.

My hand slipping between us to rub my clit in time to his thrusts, my teeth grazing over his neck, my tongue over his earlobe, before I seek out his mouth, parting his lips with my tongue. My hand cups his ass and I pull him roughly against my wet slit.

My moans and whimpers are the only words I have for him right now. Perhaps he can get more out of me.

 

[Light Ice]

It is not long before we find our rhythm. The beat is sounded by the drum of my hips against hers. Hot. Wet. Our fuck is relentless. Ferociously relentless. The clutch of her nails, sinking into my muscled flank, is a means to ground me to this moment. To keep me focused. To keep my mind from wandering, from thinking, from doing anything but giving to her exactly what she needs so that I can take from her what I've claimed as mine.

I love this place. Her legs twined around my waist. The way her breasts shake beneath her nightgown with every thrust. Her nipples are tight against the cold and I want to admire them but I can't because when my mouth is not claiming hers I can see her face and the pleasure arcing through her features reminds me of what I'm feeling.

I can't stop looking at her eyes. At her lips.

My hand finds her throat. Cinches down. Denies her air for a few seconds. Denies her that precious sustenance, helps her reach a place where her body sustains on me. On the feel of that hard flesh invading her. Filling her. It exists just beyond panic, the first moment when the body wants air more desperately than reason dictates and she thrashes on my cock. I deny her air until her gorgeous eyes turn wide with genuine fear and then I give it to her again.

"Sir." She had said.

Called me. Inspired, I imagine, by my willingness and eagerness for control. But I am not her Sir. Or anyone's Sir. It sounds polite. It sounds... contrived. I lean close, close enough that my mouth rests against her ear.

"Don't be so fucking polite."

Inspiration. That's what a good moniker needs. The provocation, the jolt, that brings it out. My hips dip. My hand drops down between the gorgeous spread of her lean thighs.

I rest at this new place after leaving her pussy. I linger there, watch her face, while my hand spreads against her wrist and traps her fingers against her pussy.

When I stretch her this time, I know it hurts. I know the white-hot flares of pain arc through her, surge along her lissome form. I know that as my cock splits the tight, puckered ring of her ass that she is wondering, as I am, whether I will fit. But we both know that I will. That I will take this tiny, nasty little hole. And here, stretched out beneath me on the grass, I am going to fuck my boss' tight little ass.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

He denied me. Gave to me and now fills me, again.

Sure he terrified me for a moment, and the soft gasping plea of a whimper showed him that. I breathe deep grateful gasps when he finally lets me go.

"Don't be so fucking polite."

For a minute I freak. What the hell do I call him? A veritable list flies through my head. none of them right. Bastard, fucker, asshole, walking sin... he embodies all these and more. It will come to me. I am sure of it.

Then his hips move and I am empty, his hand stops my fingers and so I wait. Staring at him. Wondering for a split second. Then I see it, or rather feel it.

That first delicious spread of my ass. I moan.

He's so big, and I wasn't ready for it. But I breathe, rather I pant like I am dying.

My fingers resume their rubbing, the combo of pain and pleasure tearing through my body is a very big part of the reason I am a maso. Fuck me it's heady and I am gone.

"Shove that fat cock in my ass now. Oh god yes. Fuck me there. Fuck me like a nasty needy little whore."

Panting and moaning and dripping all over my racing little fingers. Yeah. he pushed me there. He is, that good.

 

[Light Ice]

This is what I needed.


She gives it to me and I take it, merciless now. Past the point where the give and take matter, where I'm conscious of it at all. Instead, right now? I know only taking. Taking from her. Thrusting my cock into the depths of her little ass, filling it up while her fingers slip between her petals and into the tight grip of her pussy. I can feel her finger fucking that tight little cunt while I fuck her, through her, aware of the pressure and the friction and just how wanton she's become.

We've become.

I claim from her every ounce of that. Every little drop of her wetness as it runs down her fingers and over my cock, between the cheeks of her ass, making it slick for my massive length to plow into her. She is vice-tight around me. My cock is aching, flexing, throbbing inside that wet clamp of her tunnel. It surges with every stroke to bury itself deeper.

All at once, now, this robs me of my senses. It takes from me the feel of the grass beneath us and the cold air, leaves me only with her. This fucked up, heightened awareness of how she feels and tastes and now I am bending, crushing my lips to her soft tit, closing my teeth on her nipple and tugging roughly at it until she whimpers and cries out.

Because I need that. My breath is hot on her skin while I fuck her. My shoulders are broad and bristling, tensed with muscle, and my hands brace her body there so I can have from it what I need. I am aware that I am groaning. Ragged. Earthy sounds. Primitive sounds.

Fuck, I am so close already.