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Authors: Justine Elyot
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70
A Very Personal Trainer
by Justine Elyot
"Remember the rule, Lara," he whispered, crouching over me with the tip of his cock dipped between my sex lips. "You come when you have my permission, and not before."
I groaned. "It's too difficult. I've never been able to do it!"
"Yes, it is a skill. It involves self-discipline, so I don't expect you'll be able to do it, yet." He chuckled diabolically.
"You'll get there, though."
And then he got there—all the way there—in one deep, full stroke.
He felt so good inside me, so firm and hard and devoid of doubt. A man who really knew what he was doing. I contracted my muscles around him, trying to convey how very welcome he was, and pushed my hot backside against his pelvis. His hands lay heavy on my hips and he used his thumbs to spread those punished cheeks a little wider. I flooded with embarrassment, suddenly aware of what he was looking at.
"Ever taken anything up here?" he asked softly, dragging his cock very slowly back down my channel.
"Noooo," I whimpered, wildly aroused and afraid at the same time.
"I'll add it to the agenda, then," he said, plunging back in.
"To the spreadsheet?" I snorted, imagining a big S and M
version of the dreaded Organisational Tool, though it came out as 'Go uh shredshht,' due to the inconveniently placed whip in my teeth.
"Are you cheeking me, young lady?" he warned, running a finger of reminder along one of the welts left by the riding crop.
71
A Very Personal Trainer
by Justine Elyot
Ouch. "No, Sir. Wouldn't dare, Sir."
"Good."
Then the ride began in earnest, a fast-paced rocking in and out, hard thighs leaning on my softer flesh, slapping and pushing at it, fingertips bruising my hips, the whip quivering at either side of me while my head dipped lower and lower until it met the mattress. He wedged a hand down between my thigh and his hardworking cock, his fingers managing to gain a purchase on my clit, bringing me to the brink, too far, too fast...
I said something that, muffled by the crop and my extreme closeness to the edge, I hoped was intelligible as,
"Please, Sir, may I come?"
He had mercy on me, said a gruff, "You may," then fucked me relentlessly through my orgasm, which was a long, overwhelming journey into the very core of me.
My teeth ground and chewed on the whip and my hands twisted and chafed against the restraining belt. I sobbed and crumpled, waiting now for him to finish, which he did very soon afterwards.
Although I wished I could see his face, it was satisfying and moving to hear the high, throaty sounds that were wrenched from him—a moment of vulnerability at last.
I felt him withdraw, but I maintained my face-down position on the mattress, unable to move until I heard his voice giving permission. The mattress sloped me to the left and I knew he'd sat down beside me. I sensed him unfurl his long body beside me, then his hand was on my neck, ruffling the damp strands of hair there.
72
A Very Personal Trainer
by Justine Elyot
He said, "Come and lie down."
Slightly stiff, I managed to haul myself fully onto the bed, flopping down on my side, gathered against him by one long arm. Now I was in my deepest, neediest dreams, exhausted and needing comfort, taking it from the man who had just whipped and fucked me.
"I should untie you," he said, yawning, and he reached around to loosen the belt from my wrists. "Much as I like you like that. Where's the crop?"
I realised I was lying on it. I felt its curved edge making a ridge in my hip.
"Doesn't matter," he said. "Oh God. Nothing matters any more. Just this."
The words seemed to come from somewhere way down deep inside him. He sounded more than exhausted—he sounded weary, as if surrendering to a higher power after years of struggle.
"Just this," I whispered, kissing the lobe of his ear.
I wasn't consciously waiting for him to give me answers, but he seemed to know I needed them, at a deeper level.
He turned and kissed me, full
70
A Very Personal Trainer
by Justine Elyot
"Remember the rule, Lara," he whispered, crouching over me with the tip of his cock dipped between my sex lips. "You come when you have my permission, and not before."
I groaned. "It's too difficult. I've never been able to do it!"
"Yes, it is a skill. It involves self-discipline, so I don't expect you'll be able to do it, yet." He chuckled diabolically.
"You'll get there, though."
And then he got there—all the way there—in one deep, full stroke.
He felt so good inside me, so firm and hard and devoid of doubt. A man who really knew what he was doing. I contracted my muscles around him, trying to convey how very welcome he was, and pushed my hot backside against his pelvis. His hands lay heavy on my hips and he used his thumbs to spread those punished cheeks a little wider. I flooded with embarrassment, suddenly aware of what he was looking at.
"Ever taken anything up here?" he asked softly, dragging his cock very slowly back down my channel.
"Noooo," I whimpered, wildly aroused and afraid at the same time.
"I'll add it to the agenda, then," he said, plunging back in.
"To the spreadsheet?" I snorted, imagining a big S and M
version of the dreaded Organisational Tool, though it came out as 'Go uh shredshht,' due to the inconveniently placed whip in my teeth.
"Are you cheeking me, young lady?" he warned, running a finger of reminder along one of the welts left by the riding crop.
71
A Very Personal Trainer
by Justine Elyot
Ouch. "No, Sir. Wouldn't dare, Sir."
"Good."
Then the ride began in earnest, a fast-paced rocking in and out, hard thighs leaning on my softer flesh, slapping and pushing at it, fingertips bruising my hips, the whip quivering at either side of me while my head dipped lower and lower until it met the mattress. He wedged a hand down between my thigh and his hardworking cock, his fingers managing to gain a purchase on my clit, bringing me to the brink, too far, too fast...
I said something that, muffled by the crop and my extreme closeness to the edge, I hoped was intelligible as,
"Please, Sir, may I come?"
He had mercy on me, said a gruff, "You may," then fucked me relentlessly through my orgasm, which was a long, overwhelming journey into the very core of me.
My teeth ground and chewed on the whip and my hands twisted and chafed against the restraining belt. I sobbed and crumpled, waiting now for him to finish, which he did very soon afterwards.
Although I wished I could see his face, it was satisfying and moving to hear the high, throaty sounds that were wrenched from him—a moment of vulnerability at last.
I felt him withdraw, but I maintained my face-down position on the mattress, unable to move until I heard his voice giving permission. The mattress sloped me to the left and I knew he'd sat down beside me. I sensed him unfurl his long body beside me, then his hand was on my neck, ruffling the damp strands of hair there.
72
A Very Personal Trainer
by Justine Elyot
He said, "Come and lie down."
Slightly stiff, I managed to haul myself fully onto the bed, flopping down on my side, gathered against him by one long arm. Now I was in my deepest, neediest dreams, exhausted and needing comfort, taking it from the man who had just whipped and fucked me.
"I should untie you," he said, yawning, and he reached around to loosen the belt from my wrists. "Much as I like you like that. Where's the crop?"
I realised I was lying on it. I felt its curved edge making a ridge in my hip.
"Doesn't matter," he said. "Oh God. Nothing matters any more. Just this."
The words seemed to come from somewhere way down deep inside him. He sounded more than exhausted—he sounded weary, as if surrendering to a higher power after years of struggle.
"Just this," I whispered, kissing the lobe of his ear.
I wasn't consciously waiting for him to give me answers, but he seemed to know I needed them, at a deeper level.
He turned and kissed me, full
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