Slut Buttons

(I promise I’ll get back to the other story, but this one is begging to be writ, and I’m very very short on time this weekend. I know, you’ve heard it all before. But really…Why is *everything* (and I mean everything–every festival in the northeast) on September 28th this year? Seriously I could run 24 hours and never get to everything. Ah well, the pleasures of this life are many, right? Speaking of…..You may thank the lovely, sexy, sensual LadyP for this sordid tale….)
 

She lay facedown on the bed, one hand buried under the striped satin pillow, the other curled into a little fist under her chin. He stood looking at her, smiling. If it weren’t for her pretty ass hiked up as she lay with one knee drawn beneath her, he might take her for a young child, fallen asleep where she had been playing.

Truthfully, he had used her hard. He’d emptied himself in her during the night, had used toys and torture on her loveliness.  The long lines of the cane he favored crisscrossed the pale cream of her bottom, moved down the back of her legs. If he looked closely, he might see a few marks on the bottom of her feet. She had spectacular feet. Sensitive, long toes, a high arch, a shapely heel. Holding her foot in his hand and slapping the cane down the length had made her whimper and wail so beautifully it was like angels weeping.

From this angle, her bountiful breasts, and wet cunt were not visible. Thinking of that hot slit made him hard. He felt the stirring beneath the silk boxers he wore. His toes curled in the deep pile carpet as the familiar grinding in his balls heralded the rising of his shaft. Just looking at her fanny, and thinking of her pussy did this to him. Much as he adored watching her sleep, he suddenly craved disturbing her. Thumbs hooked in the band of his shorts, he made quick work of tugging them over his hips, shedding them as he stalked to the bed, a predator seeking its mate. Or perhaps its prey.

The sharp slap on her ass had her snapping awake, gasping. Her hand moved to rub at the reddening mark, but he seized her wrist flipping her to her back. In a flash he was upon her, straddling her, his balls resting on her belly button.  Her full breasts bounced as she fell upon her back, the perfect roundness of her areola a veritable beacon. They called to him. Touch me. Tug me. Hurt me. The back of his fingers grazed her nipples, stirring them to life.

“oh…nooooo…I…can’t. I’m not horny…Sir…I’m so tired.”

Her voice was a whimper designed for sympathy. He was not disposed to be sympathetic at this moment; his cock beat with a steady throb.

“Shhhhhhhh…”

His finger moved to his lips, hushing her with the gesture.

“Sure you can. And I know just how to wake up my little slut. You have these little “on” buttons. Your ‘slut buttons’ will get your motor humming in no time.”

Fingers found the rising buttons, and pinched, hard. She whimpered, arching. He twisted to the right, as far as the skin would stretch. Her noises grew more interesting, a cross between a whimper and a moan.  Twisting to the left, the moan became guttural. He knew her cunt was drooling now, that she was close.

Funny little slut. Her nipples were her Achilles heel. She may claim exhaustion. She could moan about not being ready. But the slut buttons made her gush, every time.

He tugged, then let the swollen nubs slip from his fingers.

Sliding down her body, he tugged her legs up, over his shoulders. Her cunt glistened with wetness, the head of his cock lubed as he slid it up and down her hot, slippery slit.

Squeezing his shaft in his hand, gritting the back of his teeth, he willed himself to not blow early. The head of his shaft pressed, pressed hard, entered her painfully slowly. She grunted, wiggled, but his hands held her legs firmly up over his shoulders as his cock penetrated her ass. Steadily he filled her bum with his rigid length, until his belly touched her fanny. Her eyes were wide, shocked.

She’d expected a good pussy pounding.

He so enjoyed surprising her. His fingers reached for her buttons again, pinching, rolling them, turning her pussy into a melted oozing tunnel. He watched as it trembled like a flower in the wind, grasping at the emptiness as the orgasm shuddered through her.

Slowly, a bit of agony for him, he withdrew from her butthole. He bit down hard, resisting the primal urge to beat off inside her bottom, using her hard and fast. He knew she liked it that way best. This, however, was divine torture for him as well. He watched her face as he tormented them both. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lip worried by her teeth. She was wincing, in pain and pleasure, he imagined. An anal probe with an orgasm.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he re-entered. He knew she liked it fast in her ass, liked the quickness of it, the pressure easing as he slid out as fast as he went in.

Not this time.

This was not going to be a quick how-do-you-do….this was going to take some time.

And he had nothing but time. He grinned as she winced. He felt the quivering of her rectum against his shaft. The squeezing  of her bum, like tight lips kissing each inch of him as he slid inside.

Exquisite torture indeed.

Laying his finger atop each of her buttons, he pressed them into her tit, watching them hide in the mounds of flesh as he withdrew his cock again, then slid deeply inside once more.

She came hard, panting like a bitch in heat as his fingers played with her tits, as his cock stretched her ass.

Leaning forward, pressing her legs back into her chest, he trapped his hands atop her tits, squeezing hard. His grin was wicked.

“A bit of sex poetry for my good, naughty girl, who keeps cumming even while I fuck her asshole. You say you don’t love it…but your cunt doesn’t lie.”

“But…”

“Yes, exactly. Butt.”

He laughed, his tone deepening. He was close. Very close. In a moment he would spill himself into her again.

“This,” he said, teeth clenching as his balls boiled, “will be my Masterpiece of poetic works.”

She gasped as his fingers worked her slut buttons once more, moaning as her pussy clamped and clutched and ran with her juice. And giggled helplessly as He delivered his ‘poetic work’ between the spurts of his cock.

“The time, sweet slut has now begun.

Your buttons made me do it.

I’m cumming slut, such dirty fun,

its time to just get to it.

My poem now is almost done,

and you, my slut are full of cum,

buried up inside your bum.”

About vanillamom

For over 8 years--(EIGHT?!) nilla and M have been a D/s couple. I'm the "small s" side of that designation, as he often reminds me. I'm silly and prone to giggling at inopportune times. He's a wicked Sadist, who feeds me my drug of choice--pain. My brain is always spinning dirty and dark little fantasies, which I sometimes share with the world. Welcome to the nilla-verse. It's wet and slippery here...with a dragon or two lurking.
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15 Responses to Slut Buttons

  1. Wordwytch says:

    Oh how delish! He’s a poet and he knows it! Her ass shows it!

  2. SouthernSir says:

    I do love those slut buttons myself and he is quite the poet

  3. Kayla Lords says:

    Funny enough I have the exact same buttons. 😉

  4. What a wonderful and evocative story !

  5. Hot….then the poetry. Very funny. Dare I ask how you came up with that little bit of prose?
    Or do I not want to know……
    Rose

    • vanillamom says:

      Oh, I just tossed it in there–5 minutes of writing got it done. 🙂 I used to write a lot of poetry, but then discovered porn. 🙂

      nilla

  6. sofia says:

    Goodness gracious – hot and funny and – and scientifically sound! That’s right! Research now shows that playing with nipples actually arouses the part of the brain connected with sexual arousal – who knew??

    Giggling…

    sofia

  7. LadyP says:

    Oooh! I’m very honoured to have inspired this tale.
    I didn’t have time to check out the naughty blogs until late sunday, so I didn’t realize until now.
    Thank you, Nilla.

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