On Your Knees — Wicked Wednesday

Wicked Wednesday

Welcome to my 21st post for Rebel’s Notes‘ Wicked Wednesday, On Your Knees. You don’t have to use the prompt but I like the inspiration, and challenge. The prompt for this week was:

on your kneesOn Your Knees

What does getting on your knees mean to you? Or how do you feel if someone gets on their knees in front of you? Have you ever been on your knees or has someone ever stood on his/her knees in front of you? Share your (sexy) stories…


On Your Knees

I’m standing by the sofa, massaging my wrists. I’m still naked, waiting for you. When I hear you come back in I turn to face you, and you’re smiling at me, that smug smile you get when you see a mark you’ve left. I can still feel the stinging across my arse, a slight burn that I know will be a dull ache by morning. The floaty head space I was in has almost gone but I smile and sway towards you.
“On your knees.” your voice is sharp, commanding and I drop to my knees. Sitting back on my heels so they press into the bruises as I look up at you.

You meet my look, and still smiling you walk towards me. When you’re within reach I lean forward, resting my head against your hip. My cheek is pressed into the top of your thigh, and I smile as I notice the outline of your cock, already hard and fighting the confines of your pants. Without waiting for permission I move my hand up to stroke it. Over the fabric I tease with a finger, gently smoothing along your erection before I wrap my hand around it as much as I can and squeeze it rhythmically.

You stroke my hair letting me know I can carry on. I move my other hand up, to pull down the waist of your pants. Pulling them down as I lift your cock free. They stick at your knees, and I help push them down, moving them away as you lift each foot. You’ve taken the opportunity to step back slightly, so when I lift my head your cock is bouncing in front of my face. I wrap my hand back around it, tightening my fist, as I slide it along your shaft. As I squeeze a drop appears glistening at the tip, and I lean forwards to taste it, flicking my tongue across it.

You suck in your breath sharply, tangling your hand in my hair. I open my lips sliding them over the head of your cock, flattening my tongue under it. Taking you as far in as I can, tasting the salt tang at the back of my throat. I breath through my nose taking in your scent; the slight musk that is all you. Curling my tongue I cup it around the underside of your shaft, as I suck the head. As I pull back, I add my hand to your shaft, stroking you, slowly at first until your fist tightens in my hair. As I pump your shaft faster, you pull my hair, tugging my head back, and your cock pops out of my mouth. I try to follow it, to suck it back in but you pull my hair harder, causing my chin to lift until I’m looking into your eyes.

Meeting your gaze, I wait. You jerk your head, indicating I should turn around. I bite my lip, not wanting to comply, and you tug my hair a little harder. I open my hand releasing your cock, and turn. Your hand is still holding my hair preventing my from sitting back on my heels, and I feel your foot nudge my legs apart.
“Stick your arse out.” I arch my back so the bruises and welt on my arse are presented to you. I hear your fist pumping your cock. I try not to tense but it’s hard when I hear you moan, and know how close you must be. Finally you grunt, and I feel you spraying my arse with cum. I wince as the mixture of heat and salt catches the welts you made earlier. You let go of my hair, and I drop my head, letting it rest on the edge of the sofa, as I catch my breath. When you get on your knees behind me and wrap me in a hug, I lean back against you.


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on your knees

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