Life is full of clichés. At the end of the day, when all is said and done, it is what it is. Horse play or animal play of any type, for that matter, has never been on my hard limits, but nor has it been on my must try list. The same may be true for you, however don’t look a gift horse in the mouth; don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.
The session is going much like any other. The curtains are closed; some low level music playing on the Bluetooth speaker. I amstrapped to the bed with the Almosta 4Posta, a genius simple under-bed restraint system. Mistress in total control. She has begun by gently caressing my naked body from head to toe with her warm soft hands, which led rather swiftly directly to my cock. This should have been my first sign that something was afoot.
She grabbed my cock and rubbed it hard and fast. My legs bolted out straight as they often do when faced with such immediate stimulation. My cock moist from pre seminal fluid, Mistress’ hand a blur of effortless pleasure. I raised my head to get a better look at what She was doing. And She stopped, leaving my cock throbbing and desperate for her touch.
Moving away from me she slowly, delicately unbuttoned her top, revealing the pearlescent mounds of her breasts encased in a silken black bra. She removed her left shoulder from her top, revealing a half inch wide black bra strap, and soon shrugged her right shoulder free from her top too. Opening her top completely, I was able to momentarily appreciate her soft blemishless skin before she tossed her top over my face. The waft of air this created bringing with it the smell of her sweet perfume. I closed my eyes and took a lungful of Mistress’ scent.
The first wait arrives.
After what may have been a few seconds, I felt a soft but scraping sensation on my foot. It slowly meandered up my calf, across my knee to my thigh, upwards. Upwards towards my still hard cock. As the scratchy tickle approached my groin, which I raised in anticipation, it bore to the side, touching my hip before carrying over my stomach, briefly getting caught on my nipple bar. The tickle stopped and instead there was a soft thud as Mistress placed the scratchy tickly thing on top of her top which was still on my face. I realised at this point that it was her bra, as a strap tickled my ear, and the smell changed slightly. Again I breathed it in as deep as I could.
Suddenly Mistress’ hands were clamped around my ankles, just above the straps of the Almosta 4Posta. She slowly, carefully, teasingly moved her hands up my legs. I could feel her crawling between my legs, her hands getting ever closer to my cock. Again, my hips raised in anticipation. Anticipation of her touch, of another frantic edging wank. Her hands carried on upwards, going nowhere near where I had hoped. I felt her warm breath on the tip of my glans, she paused, breathing on it, to my heightened senses, ever breath was heavier than the last, and I swear I could feel the air caressing me as it passed. She continued.
As her hands neared my chest I felt her breasts touch the very top of my thigh, and ohhhhh! before I knew it my hard cock was between them. She rested her forearms on my torso and moved her elbows towards each other. Her breasts enveloping my cock. She rocked back and forth, the head of cock relishing the juxtaposition between the warmth of her lovely smooth skin and the freshness of the air as it pokes out from between her breasts.
As she continues up my body, I can feel that she still has her trousers on. She stops, her hands just short of my face. She positions herself so she is sitting across the lower part of my chest. She lifts the bra off of my head, and her top too. I blink briefly at the comparative brightness of the subdued light of the bedroom. My eyes focus instantly on Mistress. She has her hair up, and is naked top half but clothed bottom half. She leans over and gesturing for me to lift my head, she places her bra underneath my head.
“Stay” she giggles as she gets up and I demonstrate that I’m still restrained to the bed. As she moves past me she deftly grips and intensely squeezes my hard cock, pulling my foreskin back as far as it will possibly go, and then strumming under the head near the frenulum. She knows this drives me wild, and I uncontrollably buck. She lets go. “I’ll have to tame you” she says playfully.
Making her way over to the cupboard, she removes her trousers, in a nimble move revealing hold ups and that thong. Oh my that thong. The one that cuts across the top of her peachy bumcheeks and just frames everything oh so sexily. It just makes me want to grab her arse and squeeze it.
Mistress leans into the cupboard, spending way longer than I think is actually necessary to find what she’s looking for, and I’m sure wiggling her bum for extra effect. After a few short moments, she returns, brandishing the riding crop and something smaller that I can’t quite make out. Pausing by my cock to give it another few swift firm strokes.
She stands over me, leans forward and, as her breasts sway inches above my mesmerised eyes, she places our bit gag in my mouth, passes the straps round my head and fastens it. Keeping her breasts positioned directly over my face, she again climbs onto my chest.
“OK, let break you in” she says.
She starts swaying rhythmically back and forth, up and down, and I realise she’s pretending she riding a horse. She leans forward and takes the straps of her bra in her hand, the cups coming up under my chin over my cheeks acting like blinkers. The crop is held in her relaxed right hand, the reins in her left.
Mistress makes a clicking noise and starts to ride a little faster, she shifts back a little so that her bum is rubbing my alert cock as she rides. The bra means I can look only at her, so my gaze is fixated on her face. She seems to be having quite a bit of fun, although she is avoiding looking directly at me.
She strikes my legs with the crop “giddyup boy”, as she starts to ride faster again, crushing down on my cock with each stride. After a minute or two of these, she pulls sharply on the bra strap reins.
She momentarily puts down the crop as she moves further down my body, she straddles my groin, slides her thong to the side, and slowly, teasingly rubs my cock between her labia. She slides the glans inside. The warmth wet welcoming of her vagina is in stark contrast to the previously cold air and buffeting from bum cheeks that my cock was getting. There she pauses and picks back up the crop.
“Ready to race?” she smirks at me, looking directly into my eyes for the first time in what seems like ages.
She strikes me swiftly with the crop twice, and stands bouncing up and down on my cock with real vigour, looking intently into my eyes almost challenging me, knowing I can look nowhere else, and do nothing.
“no no no no” she says stopping abruptly “false start”.
To my dismay she dismounts.
“Bad horsey” she leans into my face glowering, “we will have to start again”
And so we start again. She straddles my groin, teasing the head of my painfully throbbing cock again with her labia, rubbing her clit too. Again she slides my glans inside her vagina. She leans forward, looks me intently in the eyes.
I make a point of staying dead still, and it seems to work as she whips me and starts to ride.
“Faster faster” she says, whipping my leg with the crop, grinding hard down on my cock, and thrusting really rapidly, she continues to whip my leg. “come on horsey”.
The whip strikes are hitting me in the same place over and over again, and it is this sole fact and the heat and burning sensation from those strikes that mean the race isn’t over 2 seconds after it started.
Still, with all the warm up and tease, there’s only going to be one winner of this race, and that’s this loser. There’s a palpable moment when the sensation of the crop wanes and the groin takes over again. I just can’t help but buck my hips, Mistress knows this sign, and it gives her added impetus, her movements becoming more and more bouncier. My legs lock out again, another sign. “Nearly there horsey”!
Finally, my hips dip in readiness of the ejaculation I’ve been building up to. Mistress knows this sign too. She stops, my cock still inside her, but all is still. My cock twitches. I try to withhold the inevitable flow of cum. I squeeze my pelvic floor for all its worth. I hold my breath. I look at her with pleading eyes. There’s another small twitch from my whole body, a twitch which results in a trickle. A trickle which will open the flood gates.
I look at her, this is the last chance for my orgasm – all it needs is a small stroke, just a small sensation and the joy will return. But instead there is worry and concern, uncertainty. She looks down on me and smiles “Winner?” she half asks, half states. I nod. The gates open, I flop, disappointed. Mistress leans over, removes my limp pitiful penis from her.
The Doxy turns on.