Last night was a light affair because he knew he had to work the next morning, but they still made the most of it. It was so rare their paths crossed these days, he thought to himself.
The stirring of the small noise from his side came again. He reached down to remove the blanket gently from his companion, who still slept peacefully at his side, and finally found her. Pulling back the blanket, he revealed a beautiful pale face, young and smooth. Luscious lips that wore red lipstick the night before were now bare and gorgeous in their natural beauty. They slightly parted to release a small sigh as she slept.
In the puffy duvet cocoon, her features popped against the white fabric and gave her an angelic appearance. She looked so peaceful as she slept, so young and frozen in time. Removing more of the blanket, he revealed her slender shoulders, and that little sigh came again. It brought a smile to his lips. She was somewhere in that state between awake and asleep, where you could wake up with enough effort, but easily fall back into the dreamscapes you just left. He didn’t want to disturb her, not just yet.
That crooked smile that had crossed his lips accompanied the amusement in his steel blue eyes as he admired the young woman, half his age, lying beside him. He continued to lower the blanket, now revealing her breasts that were once as pale as the rest of her, but were now swollen and held a bright, angry pink glow from the cane he had used last night to strike them. She had laid on her back, bound to the four posts of his king size bed. In this spread-eagle position, he was able to leave mark after mark, line after line, from his wooden cane.
Perfectly thin lines matched symmetrically on each breast. He admired his work for a moment before he completely removed the warm blanket she slumbered in. The cool morning air greeted her skin, and her nipples became perky and erect.
They were no doubt sore to even the softest of touches.
He wanted to take one of them in his mouth this morning and suck on it as he did the night before, then graze his teeth along the tip. This morning, even his breath would make them scream in pain, so to bite them would be a wonderful way to start the day for his lovely little masochist.
Watching her breasts rise and fall with each breath she took in her sleep, he remembered last night’s events vividly. First, his fingers had caressed her gently, rolling her nipples between his fingertips until they became red, swollen, and hard. That was when they were the most ripe to bite, and that is exactly what he did. Her screams of ecstasy from the pain only encouraged him to bite harder. She ran her fingers through his hair and pulled, but this did not deter him from his course. He would release, open his mouth wider, and envelop a mouthful of her soft breast with his teeth and bite down hungrily.
He bit her much more deeply than he would any other partner because he knew this one could take it—this one was different. He could have drawn blood and she would have gently pushed him away, tasted it on her fingertips, and then pulled him back to whisper in his ear to continue. This girl was special.
While that particularly deep bite mark made the left breast different from the right, still bearing his teeth marks this morning, they were nearly identical as she laid next to him. As his eyes traveled from her face and down her body, he could feel her body heat radiate against him. The scent of sex, sweat, and natural body pheromones escaped in a musky wafts as lowered the blanket to the floor, fully revealing her naked body.
Her pussy was waxed and clean. Looking at it now only made his already hard cock ache with desire. Her thighs were covered in beautiful welts that would soon turn black and blue. They would then fade to a sickly yellowish green before their eventual departure from the skin.
Having played with her often enough, he knew these marks would only last five or six days maximum, and when he saw her again they would be long gone and he would have the pleasure of starting over again on a clean canvass. That is, if she didn’t find someone before him to leave new ones.
She was his go-to girl, what he considered his primary, but with the life he led, he didn’t have time for her as much as he wanted, and certainly not as much as she deserved.
He also damned well knew he didn’t deserve her. A man his age, currently kissing fifty years old on the ass next month with a job that kept him away all hours of the day and night, he didn’t deserve such a luxury. In fact, he was probably the last person worthy of her company.
She, however, was popular amongst the kink and polyamory circles alike. The fact she threw him a bone at all made him grateful. She could have anyone she wanted any day of the week, man or woman, and for all he knew, she did. But on their nights together she chose him, and hell if he knew why.
There had been many nights when he had requested her company and she had arrived with marks, both fresh and old, but he never asked about them and she never divulged their origin. Other times she would have cuts along her skin, some shallow and resembling scratches, others running deeper and still bandaged. Once again, don’t ask don’t tell. It wasn’t their way.
That was one of the cornerstones of their dynamic. Love had absolutely nothing to do with what they had; it was purely primal and sensual. They weren’t indebted to each other in the slightest, and they didn’t owe the other a single thing, far be it an explanation for the marks that graced her body. When they were together, it was their time to embrace the other’s company—nothing else, and no one else, mattered.
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