Ridden

I take the belt from around his waist

Wrapping it around his neck in haste

Straddling his frame as I pull the leather tight

“Don’t worry my pretty bitch, you’re getting ridden right.”

Bucking and swaying in rhythm to my need

His hardness is a feast on which I feed

Yanking on the leather wrapped in my fingers

I bite his lip, droplets of blood linger

Salted sweat drips from my breast

I moan aloud as a wave of pleasure crests

I relax my hold on the belt and lean in

Tasting his dark chocolate skin

He thrusts into me, so I tighten my hold and demand

“Be still sugar, your pleasure is not in the plan.”

With the length of the belt I strike him across the face

“That’s discipline darling boy; How does it taste?”

Slamming my hips down I twist the leather tight

“Move again and that will be the last you feel tonight.”

He gasps in a mixture of pain and trust

As my hips slide up and down his statement of lust

Climaxing, I growl out in release

Collapsing against him, my need momentarily at peace