This stunning piece is part 5 in a series written and read by Sundial. You can catch up on parts 1-4 here (and you totally should because they are fire). Note that this story contains total humiliation and begging. Extremely consensual, of course.
I didn’t bother dressing for dinner. We’re sitting at the table, just finishing off. You’re fully dressed, him in just his briefs and me perched on a towel on the bench, because, well, you know.
Grinning, you wave your empty glass at me, though the water jug is right there in the middle of the table. I grin back at you, practically jumping out of my seat in my eagerness, and I pour you some. Then I lean over, rather unnecessarily, to fill his glass as well. I’m well aware of the spectacle I’m making of myself, and I’m thoroughly enjoying the feeling of servitude. He’s gazing at my tits again, so I peek down at him, at the outline of his semi-hard dick. And when I look up, he’s staring into my eyes and I feel caught, which makes me blush. Pff unbelievable.
And while I’m leaning over the table, trapped by his eyes, I feel something warm and wet touching my right nipple. Shocked, I jiggle-jump to standing, and look down at a blob of sauce right there. A drip is already forming and beginning to run down the underside of my tit. My first reaction is consternation, and I turn to you.
“What a mess,” you say, before I have a chance to speak. “Need to clean you up.”
And you lean in, lick the drip upwards and suck the sauce from my nipple. And fuck me, that’s new and quite delicious. Uhh, you do a good job of cleaning me up, very thorough, leaving me gasping in fact. Flushed and a little stupefied, I plonk myself back down. Looking over at him, I can see the idea forming in his head before he acts.
“Oh dear,” he says, grinning at me. Holding my eyes, he brings his fork to his lips and tips it. Sauce splashes down onto his chest, a thick rivulet just beginning to drip.
I rise, swing my legs over the bench and leap-spring my way around the table to him. A delighted giggle flying from my mouth. I need to catch that drip before it hits the material of his briefs. The sauce is dripping down his chest towards his naval. And then I’m there falling to my knees before him, flicking a rather longing glance at his now obvious hard-on on my way down. His hand pushes my hair to the side, his thumb tracing a tender line down my cheek and I look up at him. Our eyes capture, lock, his thumb stroking along my jaw. Uhh, and behind me, I hear the jingle of your belt, your fly.
And now that I’m here, the passion he caused me earlier floods through me. I slide into the memory. In a split second, I’m back there on the bed, helpless. And he’s bruising my wrists with his iron-like grip. His teasing driving me to fuck-begging. Uuh, and with the emotional response this fires in me, I rise in a sinuous motion. My armpits against his thighs, my hands stroking upward over his ribs, his dark eyes staring at me. I break eye-contact. The sauce has reached his navel and my mouth is watering again.
I nudge his midriff with my nose, remembering the beginning of our kiss. Closing my eyes, I let my lips close around his navel, catching that drip before it can ride his body any lower. It smears over my lips, onto my nose, making a mess of my face. My kiss is gentle, a tentative lick and sweep of my tongue around his navel. He straightens, arches his back and his stomach becomes tauter. I’m so aware of his dick just below my mouth, and it’s so tempting to kiss downwards, to free it and ohhh.
His hands are in my hair again. He holds my head to him, his grip firm, grinding my face against him, and more sauce spreads over my nose. And this is so impossibly sexy. Uhh. I follow the drip upwards with my tongue, enjoying the sensation of the warm line of his hair, stretching down from the middle of his chest. The hair catches on my tongue and I stick it further out to feel more of him, to increase the sensation. Ohh, and I take my time, kiss-cleaning and licking him, all the way up to the source of the drip.
I lean back. There’s not a trace of sauce on him and I look up at him, grinning, feeling insanely pleased with myself.
He still has his hands in my hair and he’s looking at me in that speculative way men get, when they’re imagining the person on their knees in front of them is about to give them head. And I can’t help it, I look down at his cock, straining against his underwear. It pulses a single time and I lick my lips, finding forgotten sauce around the edge.
I reach for him, but he stills me, his hand on my shoulder. And I watch him drag the fingers of his right hand through the last of the sauce on his plate.
He holds his hand in front of my face, it’s an obscene threat and it sets me on fire. And then he’s smearing it across my face, before pushing a finger into my mouth.
“Clean up your mess,” he says, and his voice is harsh.
And there on my knees, I burn with the humiliation, sucking his fingers clean, one after another, and feeling pleased as punch to be doing it.
“You’re disgusting,” he says, staring at the mess on my face.
“Let me see,” you say.
I rise and then you’re turning me towards you, your hands clamped on my shoulders. I’m feeling very naughty, quite shameful and I’m loving it. I look up at you from under my lashes. You’re standing naked by the table and you have a blob of sauce on the tip of your pulsing dick. You look at my face and you shake your head at me, and I feel properly chastised, humiliated. You look down at your dick.
“Clean it up,” you say.
Ohh. I’m all eagerness, I get down on my knees in front of you and take your dick between my fingers, holding you at an angle. Your tip slips into my mouth and I swirl clean you with my tongue, careful not to touch my messy face against you. And I do as thorough a job as you did earlier with my nipple. Finishing, I suck you all the way in one last time, and slowly release you, my tongue circling around the tip of your dick. You stroke my hair back and help me stand.
And then he’s turning me towards him and he leans down. His tongue slides across my face, from one cheek, over my mouth to the other, back and forth, cleaning up the shameful mess. His lips close around the tip of my nose, his tongue licking upwards, cleaning the last bit from my face.
A splatter of the sauce hits my left ass cheek, making me jump again. His eyes are savouring the waves of movement this causes, of course they are. And using your fork, you’re smearing the sauce over my cheek.
“Look at you, you’re a disgrace,” you say. Your voice is tinged with distaste, and my grin grows wider.
You push the dinner things across the table and in short order, I’m bent over the edge, saucy ass presented. I watch him watching what you’re doing. I feel your mouth close around the sauce on my cheek, your tongue licking at it. It tickles, and my attention focuses down to just that part of me. Uhh a tickle-tingle, the texture of your tongue, sweeping licks. Uhh, I moan. You run a hand down, checking the wetness between my legs. The back of your hand stokes over my pussy, your nails a pleasure sensation. And then you turn your hand and let it slide once more over me, your fingers pinching at my pulsing clit as they pass. And then I feel you smearing my own wetness all over my ass.
“You deserve a proper spanking for the mess you made,” you say, roughly kneading my wetness into my ass.
He gets up and I watch him rummaging in a drawer. He turns, a long handled wooden spoon in his hands. My clit thrills. He approaches the table, and you take the spoon from him, stroking it around my ass cheeks. Anticipation floods through me and I’m on fire, a positive volcano of horn forming in my core.
“Beg for it,” you say.
That’s when my butt-plug reminds me of its presence. It springs to life inside me and the shock of it sends another moan out of me.
And I find myself begging for my spanking.
If you enjoyed this, check out more of Sundial’s amazing work at GoingDownWithSundial.com, where you can also jump ahead and read/hear the next posts in this phenomenal series! And hear more hot stories read aloud at the free audio porn hub.