Persephone In Winter

His eyes were locked on hers - dark with savage intensity. Her hand trembled as she reached for her brandy, only to find the glass empty.

"I love my husband. I love your cock."

He stiffened suddenly and leaned forward in his chair, dark eyes narrowing.

"Such language from a pretty wife. The day will come when I tire of your hungry, young body. Poor little thing, hanging on my gate, used and discarded."

He had never spoken to her like this. Would he turn her away for giving just one wrong answer? Should she beg? Play indignant, or proud? What did he want from her?

His fierce stare melted into a wide smile.

"But how could I possibly discard such a thirsty young woman who knows so well what she wants, and loves. Oh, I did very much like the sound of that - what was it again?"

Now she trembled for a different reason. She felt the coolness between her legs where her juices pooled, wetting her inner thighs.

"I love your cock, Simon."

His smile faded a bit, his eyebrows arched, then after a few thoughtful seconds, he tilted his head to the side with lips pursed.

"I love your cock, Simon," she purred slowly, letting her heat warm every word.

He poured another drink, then rose and went to her, half-filling her glass as well. She drank it in gulps, not stopping until it was gone. When he reached for her the empty glass slipped from her hand, shattering with a pop on the hardwood floor. Without flinching, he began to open the dress; one button, then two, three, lingering deliberately before going to the next, savoring the trail of tender skin left behind as the front of the dress parted. It seemed to take forever, and by the time he had undone the last button, she was breathless and limp. She slid lower in the chair over the slick fabric of the open dress, until her hips passed over the edge of the seat, supported only by her splayed legs stretched out on either side of him.

"Are you wet?"

"God yes, Simon. Can't you see?"

The dress had fallen away from her belly and legs. He studied the swelling slit between her legs with a puzzled frown.

"Show me."

She struggled to hold her cunt open to him, her fingers slippery with the fluids that poured from her. She had never felt more naked, more vulnerable. But that's what Simon did. Why did it feel so good? From what dark corner of her imagination had this maddening addiction Freed itself? Her husband was just fifty yards away, waiting for her to return to him, knowing that she would give her body to Simon in ways that would forever remain her secret. Was at least a sliver of the excitement from knowing her husband agreed to surrender her, and would likely do so in the future? Was it really his strength, his compromise to keep them together, or some perverted sense of power over him that made her dripping wet so quickly tonight?

"Play with yourself. I want to watch your face as you cum."

"Please Simon, I -"

A sudden ripple of disappointment shot through her. Her first orgasm was always the most intense, and riding it out without his cock in her was something she hadn't expected.

"Well, well. You are a spirited little thing tonight. You've never hesitated for a second at one of my requests - always eager to play the slut so unbecoming a prim and proper wife."

"I - I want you inside me when I cum."

"So. We regress. Remember how we play? Simon says..."

She sank two fingers deep inside, then drew them out slowly, one along each side of the hard, wet button of flesh. Cradling it between them, she eased both fingers along her swollen clit, circling over the sensitive tip every so often with a trembling swirl.

He stood between her outstretched legs and watched with satisfaction, then raised the half-full glass of brandy in the air over her, tilting it slightly just above her upturned face.

"Simon says, 'Open'."

Her mouth fell open just in time to catch the ribbon of burgundy that fell from the rim of his glass. He smiled down at her as he kept it coming, soon filling her mouth faster than she could swallow it. As it overflowed across her chin he followed with the glass, pouring a thin, steady stream over her breasts and belly, until it funneled between her legs, mixing with her own sticky nectar, finally trickling into a building puddle on the floor below.

"Decisions, decisions. What should I do with such an anxious young lady? Should I grant her her wish and stick my cock in her? Although, I haven't really heard her beg convincingly for it this evening.

Perhaps I should bring her husband inside. We could watch her face together, her body twitching as she fingers herself to orgasm in my library."

He turned his back to her and walked slowly toward the door. Would he do it - even after he had promised not to push her husband hard enough to endanger their marriage? He was going too far - she couldn't allow it - but she was so wet, now suddenly much closer to the brink, still without his prick filling her.

"Simon, please! I can't - can't hold out - much - much - longer. I need you, Simon. I need - your - cock in me. I - need - your - cock - I need - your - cock - I -"

He wore a pleased grin as he turned to face her.

"Ahh, you have such a way with words - convincing words indeed."

His chair was only a few steps away. He went to it, sat, unzipped the front of his pants, and pulled his erection through the opening. Her eyes were glued to it - so hard and thick, like a bar of bronze sculpted into a warm likeness of the perfect cock.

"Simon says, 'Over here.'"

She slid over the edge of the chair until her knees touched the floor, allowed the dress to fall from her shoulders, then crawled to him on hands and knees, slowly, with her head down, the way she knew he would want her. Stopping between his parted legs, she waited for the sound of his voice. He withheld it until he could see her shiver, knowing that her need to be filled grew with each agonizing second. He watched in silence as the small of her long, smooth back arched, her ass rising and falling almost imperceptibly in a futile effort to bring relief to the ache between her shaking thighs. 'How long would she wait?' he wondered. Hours? - Days? - this fragile, loving wife, cowering, naked on the floor below, silently begging to be taken by a stranger...