Masterbation
Well, since I'm struggling not to blog wanks any more, I might as well blog wank fantasies. Since this particular one wants to be written down and it's not good enough for fic. Um. At least I'm not sure if it is. Because it's just shameless porn. And fandom is so in love with the cock nobody would read it anyway 'cos of the het. Argh. *dares you*
Because. Yeah. When the Master does het? He's 1337 when it comes to eating pussy. And he makes everyone take it up the wrong 'un and love it. I thought this was fuckin' canon. If it isn't, it should be.
Master/Lucy, yadda yadda, timecocktiem, pesky vag, buttsecks, NC-17, icky het, not-actually-fic-just-lame-wankage, you name it...
Once he's moved in to No. 10, he wants to make her scream. It's not like they haven't had quick knee-tremblers in offices before, just... not in No. 10, not so loud everyone can hear. How thoughtful of her not to wear any knickers, how nice of her to lick her lips and look at him in the corridor, just five minutes ago, when she had told him this, her eyes wide with anticipation, her hand on his tie.
So, of course, he spins her around, quickly locks the door and then slams her against it, noisily, laughing, growling, kissing her so hard he smears his own mouth with her lipstick.
He pulls back, just for a few seconds, just to admire the look on her face, breathless, oh, not breaking eye contact when he pulls up her skirt, brushes the back of his hand against her pussy, and she's so wet, fuck, smooth and slippery, and he clenches his hand, running his knuckles up her slit, grinding on her clit, not caring if she's making a mess on his trousers as he pushes his thigh between hers, to press his fist harder against her pussy, there. There where it makes her moan, makes her close her eyes, makes her legs open wide.
And she knows, knows not to call him Harry but whisper "Master" instead, offering the whiteness of her throat to his teeth, spreads her thighs and balances *just so* as she hears the sound of his zip, that little sound of desperation he makes as he angles himself, biting down hard as he enters her, oh, the short intakes of breath as he rocks himself fully inside, so deep his balls touch her wetness.
He stays still, just for a few seconds, strokes her face.
"Lucy."
She answers by *squeezing* around him.
"Oh. Lucy. You dirty little girl."
And he has to move, has to slam in as hard as he can, knowing she can take it, knowing she won't say no, fucking her so hard the door rattles in its frame, both of them smiling at the sound, the force, her wrapping her hands around his neck as he lifts her up, trousers falling around his ankles and her heels digging into his buttocks, leaving red marks at his every thrust, only making him groan his pleasure louder.
It's making his head spin, and he knows he can't last long, and normally he wouldn't mind that, and neither would Lucy, there are so many ways he can make her come, so hard and fast she'll be seeing stars--but he is determined. He wants to hear her scream.
He lifts her again, pushes her to lie down on the table, kicks chairs out of the way, and buries his face in her pussy. Oh, good, it's working already, her voice becoming higher even at his first lick up her slit, so he does it again, only this time lingering on her clit, just nudging it, teasing it with his tongue, letting her know what's in store.
He looks up at her, lips wet, raising his eyebrows.
"Louder."
He lays his hand over her pussy--so smooth and soft, he'd shaved her himself--and slaps her pussy, hard enough to sting. The way she yelps, looking back at him, lust and fury in her eyes, clawing at the table--so good he has to slap her again, right on her clit.
"Louder, sweetheart."
God, she sounds fantastic when she's desperate, when she's embarrassed, when she knows there are people listening behind the door five feet away from them, when this office is bugged all over and someone's wanking to this in Moscow, when she fucking loves it. He traps her clit between his index and middle finger, pulling the hood back and forth, squeezing--and fuck, she's so wet she's dripping over her arsehole, making it glisten, all of her so pink and delicious--and when he repeats the movement with his lips and tongue, her moan is long and continuous. He pushes the hood of her clit back with his teeth, whips it with his tongue, insinuating two--no, let's make it three--fingers inside her cunt, curling in a come-hither gesture, yes, come hither, Lucy, you know your Master likes it when you scream...
And just when she's on the edge, thighs squeezing around his head, he stops. Kisses her mound, the soft curve of her belly, smiles.
"More?"
And this is what he's waited for--her screaming it out loud--
"Fuck!"
"Yes?" He curls his fingers again.
"Fuck... me.... please."
The "please" isn't quite loud enough, but she says it with pure honesty, looking into his eyes, so he can forgive her that, and returns to his task, his stubble rubbing her raw, turning pink into red, and he swears she's sobbing when she clenches around his fingers, when her hips lift off the table, when she pulls his head down onto her so hard he can't breathe.
He is patient, just moves his tongue lazily as she rides her orgasm out on his face, nails in his scalp, and best of all, screams and moans so loud they can hear them in the street.
One of those moans morphs into a sound of surprise as he slips his fingers out, and pushes one inside her arse, so easy when she's so relaxed, so wet, so entirely *his*.
"Well, well." He curls that finger, too, as he leans over her, kissing her belly, up where her shirt rides up and exposes her bra. She shivers, partially in the aftershocks, partially at the new sensation.
He whispers in the hollow where her ribs meet her belly.
"Are you going to be a good girl?"
And bless her, bless Lucy, for reminding him why he married her, when she makes hes voice small, that of a little girl, even has the skill to blush a little, to flutter her eyelashes when she answers.
"Anything for you, Daddy."
He draws in a sharp breath, pulls her close and kisses her, deep and hard, she's been a good girl indeed, and deserves her candy. He moves his finger, feeling her relax, even as her body fights the intrusion, opening up more and more as he kisses her, as he undoes her hair and runs his fingers through it, as he pushes his cock inside her pussy, just to feel it again, to slick himself up, to give her the sensation of being fucked in both holes. Now there's an idea. He has to try that, *soon*. Slip a buttplug inside her, maybe tell her to wear it all day--oh, yes, she would love that--then ask her to sit in his lap, sit on his cock, fill her up completely, tap the plug in time with her movements as he fucks her...
She's smiling, playing with his tie, tugging on it, hunger flashing in her eyes, her mouth open, only traces of lipstick left on it, her eyes wide and blue, innocent and whorish at the same time. Just the way he likes her. He has to groan, close his eyes as he has to pull out, then concentrate just on his hand, his cock, as he guides himself to her arse, dipping in gently, back and forth, struggling not to thrust yet. Fuck--her cunt's dripping on his hand, on his cock, her arse so burning hot and tight as he sinks in, there, sliding halfway in as she lets out a deep, shuddering breath--and when he looks up, her head is rolling slowly from side to side, her lashes are fluttering against her cheeks, her lips moving slightly, and he swears she's mouthing the word "Master."
"Lucy, my sweet, sweet Lucy." He strokes her cheek, down her neck, unbuttons her blouse, slips his hand inside her bra, squeezing gently. She gasps as he pinches her nipple--that feels so fucking fantastic around his cock he has to start moving, and yes, there it is again, sweet Lucy gasping for her, moaning for her. If she keeps going, he's going to--
"Oh. Master." She smiles, a delirious smile, grasping his arms, pushing back at him, angling her arse up into his thrusts, soft wet sounds as his skin meets her pussy, his balls meet her buttocks--laughter in her voice, that little girl voice as she moans "Oh, Master, it hurts."
And now it's him shouting, and she knows, fuck, she knows how to make him shout the loudest, ramming so deep and hard into her arse he's hurting himself, fucking roaring, and now everyone knows for sure the new PM is a fucking sex god and fuck, fuck, he's bruising her lips as he kisses her, tongue fucking her as hard as he's fucking her arse, crying out into her mouth as he comes inside her, so deep and so long it's making his cock slicker, her arse wetter because he can't stop moving, can't stop pouring himself inside her, his constant companion and it's wonderful, it's *perfect*.
For long minutes, they just lie there, her stroking his hair, listening to his double pulse slow down to normal. She smiles, knowing she'll be feeling him inside her for the rest of the day, dripping, and loves it. And once they get home, once he gets a few glasses of vintage claret down him, he's going to fuck her again, and this time he'll lick it all off afterwards.
And place an online order for a selection of buttplugs.
I run and hide now.
Because. Yeah. When the Master does het? He's 1337 when it comes to eating pussy. And he makes everyone take it up the wrong 'un and love it. I thought this was fuckin' canon. If it isn't, it should be.
Master/Lucy, yadda yadda, timecocktiem, pesky vag, buttsecks, NC-17, icky het, not-actually-fic-just-lame-wankage, you name it...
Once he's moved in to No. 10, he wants to make her scream. It's not like they haven't had quick knee-tremblers in offices before, just... not in No. 10, not so loud everyone can hear. How thoughtful of her not to wear any knickers, how nice of her to lick her lips and look at him in the corridor, just five minutes ago, when she had told him this, her eyes wide with anticipation, her hand on his tie.
So, of course, he spins her around, quickly locks the door and then slams her against it, noisily, laughing, growling, kissing her so hard he smears his own mouth with her lipstick.
He pulls back, just for a few seconds, just to admire the look on her face, breathless, oh, not breaking eye contact when he pulls up her skirt, brushes the back of his hand against her pussy, and she's so wet, fuck, smooth and slippery, and he clenches his hand, running his knuckles up her slit, grinding on her clit, not caring if she's making a mess on his trousers as he pushes his thigh between hers, to press his fist harder against her pussy, there. There where it makes her moan, makes her close her eyes, makes her legs open wide.
And she knows, knows not to call him Harry but whisper "Master" instead, offering the whiteness of her throat to his teeth, spreads her thighs and balances *just so* as she hears the sound of his zip, that little sound of desperation he makes as he angles himself, biting down hard as he enters her, oh, the short intakes of breath as he rocks himself fully inside, so deep his balls touch her wetness.
He stays still, just for a few seconds, strokes her face.
"Lucy."
She answers by *squeezing* around him.
"Oh. Lucy. You dirty little girl."
And he has to move, has to slam in as hard as he can, knowing she can take it, knowing she won't say no, fucking her so hard the door rattles in its frame, both of them smiling at the sound, the force, her wrapping her hands around his neck as he lifts her up, trousers falling around his ankles and her heels digging into his buttocks, leaving red marks at his every thrust, only making him groan his pleasure louder.
It's making his head spin, and he knows he can't last long, and normally he wouldn't mind that, and neither would Lucy, there are so many ways he can make her come, so hard and fast she'll be seeing stars--but he is determined. He wants to hear her scream.
He lifts her again, pushes her to lie down on the table, kicks chairs out of the way, and buries his face in her pussy. Oh, good, it's working already, her voice becoming higher even at his first lick up her slit, so he does it again, only this time lingering on her clit, just nudging it, teasing it with his tongue, letting her know what's in store.
He looks up at her, lips wet, raising his eyebrows.
"Louder."
He lays his hand over her pussy--so smooth and soft, he'd shaved her himself--and slaps her pussy, hard enough to sting. The way she yelps, looking back at him, lust and fury in her eyes, clawing at the table--so good he has to slap her again, right on her clit.
"Louder, sweetheart."
God, she sounds fantastic when she's desperate, when she's embarrassed, when she knows there are people listening behind the door five feet away from them, when this office is bugged all over and someone's wanking to this in Moscow, when she fucking loves it. He traps her clit between his index and middle finger, pulling the hood back and forth, squeezing--and fuck, she's so wet she's dripping over her arsehole, making it glisten, all of her so pink and delicious--and when he repeats the movement with his lips and tongue, her moan is long and continuous. He pushes the hood of her clit back with his teeth, whips it with his tongue, insinuating two--no, let's make it three--fingers inside her cunt, curling in a come-hither gesture, yes, come hither, Lucy, you know your Master likes it when you scream...
And just when she's on the edge, thighs squeezing around his head, he stops. Kisses her mound, the soft curve of her belly, smiles.
"More?"
And this is what he's waited for--her screaming it out loud--
"Fuck!"
"Yes?" He curls his fingers again.
"Fuck... me.... please."
The "please" isn't quite loud enough, but she says it with pure honesty, looking into his eyes, so he can forgive her that, and returns to his task, his stubble rubbing her raw, turning pink into red, and he swears she's sobbing when she clenches around his fingers, when her hips lift off the table, when she pulls his head down onto her so hard he can't breathe.
He is patient, just moves his tongue lazily as she rides her orgasm out on his face, nails in his scalp, and best of all, screams and moans so loud they can hear them in the street.
One of those moans morphs into a sound of surprise as he slips his fingers out, and pushes one inside her arse, so easy when she's so relaxed, so wet, so entirely *his*.
"Well, well." He curls that finger, too, as he leans over her, kissing her belly, up where her shirt rides up and exposes her bra. She shivers, partially in the aftershocks, partially at the new sensation.
He whispers in the hollow where her ribs meet her belly.
"Are you going to be a good girl?"
And bless her, bless Lucy, for reminding him why he married her, when she makes hes voice small, that of a little girl, even has the skill to blush a little, to flutter her eyelashes when she answers.
"Anything for you, Daddy."
He draws in a sharp breath, pulls her close and kisses her, deep and hard, she's been a good girl indeed, and deserves her candy. He moves his finger, feeling her relax, even as her body fights the intrusion, opening up more and more as he kisses her, as he undoes her hair and runs his fingers through it, as he pushes his cock inside her pussy, just to feel it again, to slick himself up, to give her the sensation of being fucked in both holes. Now there's an idea. He has to try that, *soon*. Slip a buttplug inside her, maybe tell her to wear it all day--oh, yes, she would love that--then ask her to sit in his lap, sit on his cock, fill her up completely, tap the plug in time with her movements as he fucks her...
She's smiling, playing with his tie, tugging on it, hunger flashing in her eyes, her mouth open, only traces of lipstick left on it, her eyes wide and blue, innocent and whorish at the same time. Just the way he likes her. He has to groan, close his eyes as he has to pull out, then concentrate just on his hand, his cock, as he guides himself to her arse, dipping in gently, back and forth, struggling not to thrust yet. Fuck--her cunt's dripping on his hand, on his cock, her arse so burning hot and tight as he sinks in, there, sliding halfway in as she lets out a deep, shuddering breath--and when he looks up, her head is rolling slowly from side to side, her lashes are fluttering against her cheeks, her lips moving slightly, and he swears she's mouthing the word "Master."
"Lucy, my sweet, sweet Lucy." He strokes her cheek, down her neck, unbuttons her blouse, slips his hand inside her bra, squeezing gently. She gasps as he pinches her nipple--that feels so fucking fantastic around his cock he has to start moving, and yes, there it is again, sweet Lucy gasping for her, moaning for her. If she keeps going, he's going to--
"Oh. Master." She smiles, a delirious smile, grasping his arms, pushing back at him, angling her arse up into his thrusts, soft wet sounds as his skin meets her pussy, his balls meet her buttocks--laughter in her voice, that little girl voice as she moans "Oh, Master, it hurts."
And now it's him shouting, and she knows, fuck, she knows how to make him shout the loudest, ramming so deep and hard into her arse he's hurting himself, fucking roaring, and now everyone knows for sure the new PM is a fucking sex god and fuck, fuck, he's bruising her lips as he kisses her, tongue fucking her as hard as he's fucking her arse, crying out into her mouth as he comes inside her, so deep and so long it's making his cock slicker, her arse wetter because he can't stop moving, can't stop pouring himself inside her, his constant companion and it's wonderful, it's *perfect*.
For long minutes, they just lie there, her stroking his hair, listening to his double pulse slow down to normal. She smiles, knowing she'll be feeling him inside her for the rest of the day, dripping, and loves it. And once they get home, once he gets a few glasses of vintage claret down him, he's going to fuck her again, and this time he'll lick it all off afterwards.
And place an online order for a selection of buttplugs.
I run and hide now.