The Naughty Stuff(49)

“What was it you were going to say?”

Isa quickly looks down at the floor. “Nothing, Sir.”

I move the tray of food out of the way and instruct her to lay down on it. She looks confused so I lead her over and help her onto the table.

“Lie on your back and be still while I eat.”



Isabel

I’m starving and the enticing smell of the food is making my stomach growl loudly. I jump when I feel hot roast beef plopped onto my belly. The heat is searing and painfully uncomfortable.

“What are you doing?” I ask when Dylan pokes my thigh with a fork.

“Quiet. Tables don’t speak.”

What the hell? My mouth is starting to water from the smell of the meat and vegetables. Dylan puts the vegetables on my chest and the desert on my vagina. Gee, how appropriate.

This is absolutely absurd. I’m tempted to fling the food off and slap the hell out of him with the hot roast beef, but I know better. The way he’s acting, he would probably tie me down and flog me seven ways until Sunday.

Next Dylan pours gravy over my breasts and slaps butter on my thighs. I’m doing my best to lie absolutely still but I feel like a complete jackass. He cuts into the roast beef and the knife blade skims my belly and I wince from the pain. That seriously hurt. He dips the roast beef into the gravy on my breasts, sliding across and around my nipple and my nipples instantly harden and pucker to his touch and from the heat of the food. He eats the forkful of food as if eating food off of a person is commonplace and the look on his face remains stoic. He cuts another piece of meat, this time cutting deeper and grazing the knife on my belly once again. I’m so damned hungry. To my delight, he places the food to my lips, lifts my head and I eagerly eat it.

He takes a forkful of vegetables, poking me harshly, dips it in the butter on my thighs and then eats it. He feeds me the next bite and this is how our dinner continues; one bite for him, one bite for me. When we’re finished and all the food is gone, he climbs up on the table and licks every last bit of food off of me and it feels divine. His tongue soothes my tender and burnt belly and every spot where he poked the fork. Next, he gets ice cubes from his glass and runs them over my belly, my nipples and my thighs and it alleviates the irritation as well.

Dylan climbs down from the table and pulls me down to the end like he did earlier, with my ass half hanging off and spreads my legs wide.

“Now for the real dessert,” he says and he smiles wickedly. He slaps my clit and pussy over and over.

The pain is exquisite. He slides his fingers inside of me and licks and nibbles my swollen clit. Then he slaps my pussy again. He’s unrelenting and I become unbearably uncomfortable. I start to squirm around, but he pushes my knees to my chest and slaps harder.

Holy throbbing honey hole. I can’t take this anymore. I try and back away from him, but his strong arms pull me back and he continues to slap at me and finger me. Then he licks me and bites me. I grab his hair and pull hard trying to punish him, but he only moans and starts slapping at me again. Good Lord Almighty. Why?

Suddenly he pulls me off the table and leads me by my hair out to the balcony. It’s freezing and there’s snow ankle deep. The cold winter air sweeps across my naked body. I’m shivering and covered with goose bumps, and my nipples are so hard they could cut glass. The sound of the wind blowing is hypnotic and the beautiful delicate snow is floating all around us. Dylan pushes me up against the railing and proceeds to take me from behind. God, I hope no one can see us.

Here I am buck ass naked in the dead of winter, on my wedding night, getting fucked in full view of downtown Denver. I’m thankful we’re on the 16th floor and high enough that hopefully no one can see this. My feet are numb from the freezing snow underneath me and my hands are frozen from the ice-cold railing that I’m holding on to. I start to shiver uncontrollably from the frigid night air and Dylan grabs my hair and pulls back hard.

I can’t take this anymore. I need to go inside and warm up but Dylan just keeps pounding into me. He’s hitting my sweet spot, but I’m so damned cold that I can’t even orgasm. I concentrate hard and go into a trance-like state, thinking only of the fact that I’m now Isabel Young. Isabel Young. Mrs. Isabel Young.

I start to feel it, that delicious sensation just before I come. My insides warm from the impending orgasm, but Dylan pulls out of me before I find release.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he says.

He pulls me back inside and pushes me towards the bed.

“On your hands and knees,” he orders.

I’m shaking, but I do as I’m told and he starts spanking me and fucking me at the same time. Please, please, I just want to come. He pulls out of me and starts slapping my pussy again. The pain is too much to bear and I collapse on to my belly and start sobbing into the bed. No safewords. That’s what he said. No safewords. I would’ve screamed out red already, but he said no fucking safewords. Is this what he really likes? He leans down onto me and starts kissing my back and neck, and he leans into my ear.