Simon Says

I saw David before I left for the Xmas holiday, and I saw him again before heading out to the UK. He and I played Simon Says last night. The penalty for each transgression of the rules was one drop of candle wax on a sensitive place. From experimentation, we knew that although it would hurt like hell, this would not leave marks on my skin. I would be bound up when he administered the penalty.

It started easily enough: "Simon says strip." I did.

David stood and undressed and sat naked on the easy chair in his living room. "On your knees," he instructed, and I properly ignored the command. He smiled and repeated it with the appropriate preface. I complied. His cock was hard. He stroked it. I began crawling to him.

"Simon didn't say come here, bitch," remarked David.

"I am sorry."

"Simon didn't say you could talk either."

I froze and waited. David was a bastard sometimes. His students must hate that he was a stickler for rules.

"Come here."

I didn't so much as blink.

"Simon says wash my feet."

I walked to the kitchen, soaped up the sponge in the sink, and went to him. On my knees, I scrubbed his feet clean and dried them with the dishtowel. Clearly, this wasn't what he expected, but the rules had been followed. My aspect was smug in consequence.

David thrust the sole of his foot at my closed lips. "Lick," he said. I turned my face to the side. The foot swatted at my cheek.

He pointed his penis upright. "Cunt," he said. (It was wet.) "Simon says lick my balls."

This I happily did. My lips applied suction to the hemispheres of the scrotum. I tongued the sac as I held each testicle between my lips. I spread my jaw and took both of the balls inside together. The tongue lapped at the coarsely textured skin. He kept me at it for long minutes. Thick saliva coated the balls. Because it pleased him, he fingered my nipples. He pinched them tight and dug his nails in. I winced at the abrupt jolt of pain, but I continued my oral ministrations on the scrotum without interruption.

"Suck my cock."

I looked up at him. My lips steadfastly munched on his balls.

"Good girl. Simon says deepthroat."

This was patently unfair. I yawned immensely and lowered my mouth on the shaft as far as I could manage in the absence of preparation. Suppressing the gag reflex, I filled my mouth with spit and made a concerted effort to reach his balls. I had three-quarters of his length inside.

"That isn't deepthroat," he said. His hand pressed on the back of my head and compelled me down. By instinct, I resisted, pulled away, and coughed.

"That counts as three and four."

I took the crown into my lips again. I made my throat loose and forced myself to take the cock in to its root. By sheer effort, I accomplished the feat. My eyes were watering when I had the knob seated in my throat. My lips kissed the lip of his sac. The hand on top of my head held me down longer than was comfortable. Tears escaped the corners of my eyes when David let me surface for air.

"Now suck," he said. I did. I realized that this was my fifth infraction a microsecond after I had commenced the act of fellatio. David noted it, too. He slapped the side of a tit.

He glanced at his watch. "Simon says make me come. Simon says you have exactly five minutes."

David has stamina. I pulled out all the stops in the time allotted. I tried but failed. Even the index finger pushed up against the prostate didn't do the trick.

"Six," he intoned.

I nodded.

"Well, keep sucking."

I didn't.

"Simon says suck me slow."

I kissed the crown, tongued around the glans, took the head inside, and glacially slid my lips down the shaft. I took the penis in by degrees. To begin, I had the top half of it contained in my mouth on the downstroke, then two-thirds, then three-quarters. He sighed expressively and let me suck him slowly, softly, and with intent. I rotated my face and collapsed my cheeks and lifted my tongue against the underside of the rigid cock. The spit leaked from my lips and trailed to his balls. I scratched the insides of his thighs. His eyes were shut in contentment. Though I kept mine downcast for the most part, once a minute or twice, I tilted my head up, which lifted his penis, and glanced upon his countenance with enormous eyes that blinked slowly closed. My face lowered and twisted on his shaft. The constitution of the cock flesh altered minutely between my lips. It went on. I don't know how long I sucked him this way. I felt the solidity of the hardwood floor in my knees and the balls of my toes. The discomfort enhanced in me the sense and the quality of my submission.

Suddenly, David's hands grabbed the sides of my head. He fucked my mouth as though it was my cunt. The pelvis flared out, and he lifted from his seat to penetrate deeper and harder. He was suspended in air when his musculature tensed. An iron grip obliged me to keep the glans inside my throat.

"Swallow," he said when he had finished his spasms. The shape of the orgasm and the geography of our bodies left me no choice. It was done already. His semen barreled directly into my esophagus.

He cast me back and chuckled softly.

"Salmon says clean me off."

I licked the sides of the shaft and curled my tongue at the pearl of come lodged within the aperture.

"I said Salmon says, not Simon says," David observed, pointedly.

I hadn't noted the first word. He may have slurred it. This was surely cheating. I laughed at his audacity. To avenge myself, I took the skin of the right half of the scrotum between my teeth, bit down, and tugged. I persisted in washing the cock.

"Game over. Simon says game over," David announced, after I had finished. "Let's call it nine." His fingers swept over my slit and brushed against the clit.

Cocksucking had aroused me. I wondered how long it would be before David fucked my pussy. I wanted him to dominate me. I wanted to rut on hands and knees. I wanted to compress the walls of my cunt about his shaft. I wanted to come for him repeatedly, at his word, and be the agency of his pleasure. I nosed at the balls and kissed wetly where I had a moment ago nipped. The penis folded over the scrotum. It reminded me of an elephant's trunk. The head hung below the testicles. I sunk low and mouthed the glans. Kisses led to his feet. I licked above the toes.

"Leah says ten."

Republished with permission from Leah Lays London. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.