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Bdsm

1

Brett studied his reflection in the mirror as he shaved; drew the blades of his special wet-shave razor over his hard jawline, his lean face to be seen as he worked. The shower had done him some good after another restless night. He sure couldn’t blame Donna for finally leaving him. In no time, it seemed, she’d hooked up with someone else. That affair must have started a while back; someone to take up with if life with him had become too tough to endure. She didn’t fool around, least of all when she knew he was home.

His time in the Corps was long over but his body sure bore the scars; the ones that did it for him from an IED in Iraq, the searing strips of metal tearing through him and into him as if his Kevlar body armour was but a thin cotton vest. He’d counted himself lucky to have gotten through. His buddies in the squad had not.

He’d tried to pick up on so many pieces of his life after he’d been mended, but what was to be seen on his skin was nothing like what had been done to his mind. He’d often find himself weeping when working out in the yard, just tending to the grass and the few flowers and shrubs that he and Donna had planted when their Houston home, a single storey echoing place, had been bought and when they thought kids might be born to them.

That hadn’t clicked either.

He worked as a logistics manager for a local trucking company and had his moments dealing with the nightmare that came with discovering stowaways. He had seen the despair in folk’s eyes often enough, when deployed, to know what was at work in them. They wanted a chance and to find a place of safety. He was childless, but he’d met kids often enough who’d been dumped and had, somehow, to fend for themselves in a strange country.

He and Donna had helped where they could. They had gone out on a limb and given cleaning work and household chores to a woman and her teenage daughter; helped in getting the authorities to accept an application for citizenship and make their lives here ‘legit’. They could then move on, just as he had to do with his life now that Donna had packed her gear and gone.

The house would have to be sold and his familiar props would go along with that; the money divided up between him and Donna.

‘Then what?’ he growled as his reflection was studied and he nodded. His face was smooth, and his brown hair cut short. His blue eyes stared back at him from the mirror. He carried no weight or burned that off in a daily exercise routine. He’d sure like to be doing that for someone else, and who mattered, rather than for himself.

To look good, and strong, beside your woman still mattered a hell of a lot.

2

Brett cleaned up. He rubbed some after shave ointment over his face, just to moisturise his skin. It was lightly scented, but not so much that anyone would get to thinking he was obsessive in these ways.

‘Who can that be…I’m not expecting anyone?’ he muttered. The front door chimes echoed through the house. He soon tugged on a pair of jeans and rushed to answer the door, still stuffing his T-shirt into them and tugging tight his belt as he opened it.

‘Hey…Lucia!’ he laughed out in genuine pleasure.

‘Si, it is me señor Walker…’ she smiled in response to his broad grin of welcome. She’d heard the surprise in his voice and soon saw in his look upon her. She had judged it right.

Brett soon stood aside to let her in; the maid-service that Donna used had appeared on his doorstep on her day off.

‘You got here just in time. It’s as well I am on a late shift, or I’d have missed you looking like that,’ he told her only too directly, his stilled look taking in how she was dressed.

Gone was the workaday shift dress that shaped her and that would have him see her strong legs and dainty feet in her workaday white shoes; all of it the uniform that the agency insisted their cleaners wore.

She was wearing a halter neck top under a flowing white blouse, the colour of her top matching her ecru coloured linen trousers, short at the ankle. Her sandals were loosely strapped. Brett wiped a finger over his lips to stifle a sigh of brazen, sudden longing for her. He rarely saw Lucia around the house when she had been called in by Donna. He’d done nothing to cancel the contract but had, instead, changed her times of attendance so that it fitted in with his day plan.

He had not reckoned on the effect this Latina woman would have on him; she who now gazed overtly at him would see the deep scarring on his arms and that the T-shirt would not conceal.

He held his arms out, turned them so that she could really take in what that IED had brought on him. ‘The war I was in did that to them…to my body as well. The señora did not like to see them…all the scars. Her man had changed too much for her.’

Lucia might as well know what was at work in him more often than he let on.

‘But she is gone now,’ she said certainly, her voice low. ‘I decide to come here and say thank you…for what you did…the señora too…but you most of asyabahis yeni giriş all. I get my papers at last. I am legal. I can stay and make a life here.’

‘I never thought of you otherwise, Lucia…’

He chose to walk into the kitchen area where he soon tugged open the fridge door. He poured, without asking what she wanted, two measures of fizzy orange juice into large glasses before adding some ice from the dispenser set into the door, just for good measure.

To his surprise, when he turned, he saw that she had pushed away her blouse and now stood before him in a halter-neck top that shaped her. The sight of the young woman before him inflamed his senses. The soft ecru colour of it, and her slacks, went so darn well with the silken smooth colour of her skin; the tumble of her glossy black hair that she had tied in a woven tail at her neck. Its frizziness was a captivating draw to the eye, along with everything else about her. She surprised him by leaning closer and sliding her fingers over his arms as she caressed the scars. Lucia brushed fingers over his cheek before planting a solitary kiss on his skin, and before Brett could react.

‘You…you are mended now, señor…in that at least.’

‘And you’re here to thank me for the residency permit…and…and nothing more?’ he smiled in some confusion.

‘I wanted you to know that I have cared about you…but could not speak of it. So, I give you a kiss.’

She loved the raw vitality of the man she’d seen about the house, on the rare occasions that had happened; his lean body and strong arms, scarred as they were, along with his greying hair that he kept cropped short at the temples and sides of his head. He brushed it back to reveal a slender face, furrowed brows and a strong mouth under a long, straight nose. She had seen the pictures of the man in his uniform and had known that he was not a man to rile. Also, that he was a man who still hurt and carried the scars in and on that tended body.

‘That kiss should not have an answering kiss…from me,’ Brett told her and taking a step away. ‘I’m kinda sorry…’

‘Meaning you think about it…while I stand here with you? Are you sure there’s no return kiss?’ She flirted brazenly with him. ‘What you have done for me needs a special thank you.’

How Lucia looked, and how she now licked her lightly glossed lips, suggestively, sure wound his clock. He could feel his prick stirring, get hard, and felt the knot of longing for the woman before him and what she would bring to his sight and touch. He scarcely knew her and had passed only too common moments with her, mostly in Donna’s company.

‘Afraid so, I’ll have to do that,’ he now said.

‘But comfort and company also have a value, señor…’

‘Brett…you’d better call me Brett. We’re way past the rest of it…’

Lucia drew near once more; stroked the skin of his arm; saw him look away before Brett darted a lingering glance upon her and took in how her breasts strained at the fabric of her cami top.

Lucia leant against the countertop and gazed at him, wonderingly, over the rim of her glass. Her behaviour had drawn his eyes to her breasts as she acted in adjusting the shoulder straps of her top, and then to her questioning smile. Her full lips were a soft glossy red against which her teeth a blaze of white.

Yeah, she was pushing it, but she wanted the man before her. He had no ties to another woman, only his memories of her and what she had done. She would help him get through bad times, if he allowed her to do that.

‘Listen Lucia…?’

‘Yes?’

Jeez, how he wanted to kiss those lips; hold those breasts in his hands and plug that fleshy body; lose what he had into her and do that so deep and in doing that to erase thoughts of Donna; of her walking out on him. He was as free as his mind would allow him to be. He wouldn’t be playing away as Donna had done.

‘I dress differently…did that for you, Brett. We can each give something to each other…de valor…for what has happened.’

Brett wondered what the price would be, what he’d have to pay in some way for taking her to bed. He wanted the young Latina woman before him; she, shaped so beautifully, in that top that showed no signs of her wearing a bra. She inflamed his senses. Lucia even read what was in his eyes as she saw his gaze drift over her, and she moved to stand only inches away and kept his unwavering attention upon her.

He had to clear his throat twice before he could talk. The ache in his belly and the hard swell in his pants sure told him what was beyond price to him in his present circumstances. He sure hoped that the sight of his scarred body wouldn’t change her mind.

‘And what is of value to you now?’ he asked hoarsely.

‘Toca me…touch me…share with me in a kiss.’ she answered and saw Brett nod, his breaths hot on her lips as she looked up at him. ‘Let me know what you feel…feel for me, now that I am here with you, and we are alone.’

Jeez! She knew how to work him.

Brett asyabahis giriş drew her to him. He felt Lucia slip her arms around his body then over his skin under his T-shirt. ‘You sure are someone else…kept this hidden from me.’

‘And I feel the man that you are…strong and wounded…but so alive.’ She met his kisses; lifted her head and held him to the tumble of her breasts as she felt his lips clamp on their swell then to her nipples. She shuddered as he pressed against her, and she reached for him. ‘Quiero cogñar…how you say?’

‘You want to fuck with me…do that now.’

The boundary would be crossed; the tenuous hold on restraint was broken, his control snapped, and he pushed one hand through her hair and felt its silken thickness run through his fingers as he drew her to him. Their mouths crashed against e ach others; their lips parted, and tongues darted and performed a dance, she soon sucking suggestively and expertly on his flickering tongue. And, all the while, her hands were on his skin feeling the scars and discovering that his body really was marked, but so lean and strong.

‘Si, I want to fuck with you…end the emptiness I feel there! I know you…the man you are…and that I will be safe!’

Brett took his time. He had become instantly addicted to the woman in his arms and deepened his kisses. He coaxed her to push her tongue into his mouth once more and heard their snorts of discovery as they sucked on each other, as if in a dance.

‘Ai…aiee, mi fuerte!’ she gasped. Lucia looked down to where her hands had gone. She cupped and squeezed on his trousers and met his hooded look upon her. ‘You…you will break me with what you have.’

He was already so hard, and he had yet to touch her intimately. His hand left her cheek to trail down the side of her neck, just grazing her breast lightly and avoiding her nipples completely. He held her fleshy waist and trembled. The woman was voluptuous. He filled his hands with flesh that Donna lacked and had so obsessively avoided putting on.

He stroked down, over her hips and ass and wondered if she had any panties on. His hands hooked under her buttocks, and he lifted Lucia to him. She soon got the idea and skipped before wrapping one, then the other, leg around his waist. His fingers pressed into her, and she met his touches; gasped through their kisses.

‘Yes…yes, touch me there…find me there!’ she groaned, her lips pressed to his neck and clinging to him as Brett carried her down the hall and into his bedroom.

He put her down on his bed and yanked off his T-shirt in haste; ignored her restraining, questing touches to what was revealed and her sharp intakes of breath.

‘I am who I am!’

‘Si, and I want that man!’

Her fingers trembled as she worked the belt and button on his pants; was eager to see the man naked before her and then she’d undress for him. Finally, Brett kicked away his pants and she gloried in his lean body, in the tone of his muscles and that prick straining at the thin jersey fabric of his boxers.

‘Your turn…’

Si…in a moment,’ she smiled coyly, looking up at him. ‘You…you feel that way for me?’

‘It sure ain’t an act!’ he growled and reaching for her.

Brett clenched her wrists as she worked on him, through the material, stroking him feverishly from base to tip; squeezed his sac rhythmically.

Brett hissed out encouragement through his teeth as her touches found him. The polite maid, or house cleaner, was working him like a whore. She acted brazenly and only too purposefully.

‘Undress for me…do it now!’

His hands pulled the hem of her cami-top and he jerked it up, over her head; gave her no respite before his mouth fell hungrily upon her naked breasts. He saw them tumble to each side, but he drew them together ad lapped his kisses over them, then nipped kisses to their tips and heard her gasp. He felt Lucia fumble for her trouser fastenings, behind her back and left her body open to his claims. She shuddered on feeling his mouth on her; his questing hands on her naked buttocks as her trousers were pushed down, his kisses following her faltering progress before he buried his face between her legs and lapped her pussy in long strokes; flickered his tongue into her as Lucia bucked her hips to meet these claims.

‘On the bed…hombre!’

Lucia stumbled away but was made to turn. Brett pushed and she fell back on the covers; opened her legs, instinctively, as he knelt between them; bent forward and tugged open a bedside drawer; gripped the condom packet in one hand as he resumed in claiming her.

‘Not yet!’ she called out.

‘No…not yet. I want to feel your skin on me…for every moment that I can.’

Brett kissed the soft skin under her knees, wedging his shoulder under her legs to hoist them over his arms. His tongue made questing, lazy circles against her skin; probed into her wet folds that his fingers parted; moved up and down as if he was lapping at a bowl of milk.

He groaned on feeling asyabahis güvenilirmi her shudder; push her hips from the bed and let out a deepening moan.

‘That’s not enough!’ she yelled.

Her lips glistened from the flood of her juices and his spittle; her hands in his hair as he breathed in her scent; gloried in her state of arousal and brushed away her questing hands as Lucia sought his prick.

‘Easy, Lucia…I have time to enjoy you,’ he murmured against her skin. ‘Take it easy…we have time to make this first moment last.’

He found a sweet spot and suckled on it; knew that he might well mark her, and she’d remember that her boss had claimed her body after she’d led him on. He’d see it again when they loved the next time.

He kissed her thighs, then the back of her knees and down to her feet. He sucked on her painted toes then moved up to breathe cooling breaths to her lips before his mouth was again on her hairy mound, his tongue flickering into her, then the tip before he again lapped over the length of her slit and into her once more, in a quickening rhythm; stopping only to lightly press his tongue tip to her clit.

‘Hombre! Ven…ven…bring it to me!’ she cried out on a strangled moan, meeting his smile as he looked up at her.

‘No, don’t…we’re not finished’ she gasped when he stood up. ‘You can’t… can’t leave me like this!’ She sat up and watched him kneel between her legs before he stripped off his boxers. ‘You…you will break me!’

His thick straining prick arced out from a tangle of hair; the smooth skin of its tip twitching against his belly.

‘I don’t intend to….but you are so tight I can’t see how I can avoid it. I’ll go slowly, Lucia…but you need to promise to say if I’m too big, or if I need to do it in a different way, or something.’

‘I promise,’ she whispered, and drew Brett closer; put her arms around his neck and looked down as she felt him press his penis against her moist folds, her pussy, before he slipped the underside against her in slow caresses, teasing her clit until he positioned himself. He then pressed forward in slow sinuous movements, all the while pushing into her, then withdrawing until only the tip offered caresses before plunging in deeper, giving her little time to adjust.

‘It is okay, Brett…find me…now!’ she moaned as his big cock head slipped inside on her quickening breaths. She matched his pace and her walls tightened around him as if her body was protecting itself.

‘I’ll ease up…but I sure don’t want to.’ The woman, his maid, felt so good in her ways with him now.

Brett met her stilled look as he moved slowly and bent to kiss her. She was tight and his frustration, and feeling a woman claim his prick after some time, wound his clock. It made him wonder just how long he would hold on. He eased back and pushed forward with smooth, slow thrusts, going in all the way until his belly brushed hers and he felt her hair mix with his. He heard the soft squelching sounds as he moved in her.

Finally, she was perfect and her body accepting him as he sheathed himself so deep in her slick core. He kept it there for a minute and allowed her to get used to his length and girth and giving himself time to calm down. The woman had come knocking on his door and now they were in his bed, and he wanted to take her.

‘Come one…come on,’ she gasped in her demanding ways; moved to claim him as she raised her hips to draw him in and Brett knew she was ready.

He began to move, slowly at first, but eventually picking up speed as he went. He could feel his balls slapping against her with every thrust, and it drove him wild. He quickened his pace stroke by stroke, heartbeat by heartbeat, until she was flinging her head from side to side, desperate for release. He pulled on her hips, tilting her up towards him for deeper penetration. They settled into a rhythm of fast hard strokes, deep, long ones, and grinding ones with their hips undulating against each other. She was gasping as he moved them both on his bed, her beautiful breasts bouncing freely.

He bent to tug and suck one nipple into his mouth. He needed her to cum and he knew how to help it along. Keeping his mouth on her breast, he reached down with one hand and found the sensitive spot on her clit, rubbing it hard and fast. Her breathing hitched and he knew it was time. He bit down on the nipple in his mouth, just hard enough to send a jolt to her pussy, and she came with a surprised gasp.

‘Oh Jeez!’ he yelled and pulled out of her; tore at the condom packet and rose to kneel before her; slipped the rubber over his slicked prick and plunged back in; pushed her legs up and hooked them in his elbows; began to pound her body in fevered haste.

Her inner walls were wrenching and clenching around him again, but this time Lucia was trying to pull him in deeper and keep him there. The movements her body was making around him had him make an almost unearthly sound as he took furious, selfish, strokes.

She held his head to her breasts. She felt so good that he had no wish to end it so tempestuously; but he banged down into her, and she clamped his butt cheeks and pulled him into her without any respite; shook her head from side to side so that she could breathe and not be stifled by his kisses.

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