Fiction: In the Pink (M/F, sex)

I thought I’d mix it up with a story where spanking is only incidental. The sexual activity the story centers around is a big fantasy of mine that hubby and I engage in, not to this extent, from time to time. It’s very embarrassing for me to write this! I hope my husband reads it. I’ll send him the link…

The day had begun like any other, with the morning sun casting a warm glow over our breakfast table. Our kids were there. My husband sat across from me, sipping his coffee, his eyes twinkling with mischief. As I reached for a piece of toast, he leaned in, his voice barely a whisper in my ear.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you tonight, you little slut?" he said, his breath hot against my ear. I felt a jolt of arousal, my cheeks flushing as I tried to maintain my composure. "I'm going to spread those pretty legs of yours and fuck you until you beg for mercy."

I nearly choked on my toast, my mind racing with the filthy promise of his words. My kids ate on, unperturbed. The rest of the morning passed in a haze, his whispers of what was to come lingering in my mind, making my pussy ache with anticipation.

As I loaded the dishwasher, he came up behind me, pressing his growing erection against my backside. "I can't wait to see you spread wide open for me, your pussy dripping and ready to be filled," he murmured, his hands roaming over my hips. I could feel the wetness beginning to seep through my panties, a testament to the effect his words had on me.

Later, as we ran errands together, he leaned in close as we perused the aisles of the grocery store. "Imagine me, fucking you right here on the kitchenware aisle, your legs wrapped around me as I pound into that tight, wet cunt of yours," he whispered, his voice filled with dark desire. I could hardly concentrate on the shopping, my mind filled with the lewd images his words conjured.

Later in the day, at the park, as we watched our kids play, he nuzzled my neck, his hand resting on my thigh. "Tonight, I'm going to make you hold your pussy lips wide open while I fuck you. I want to see every inch of you, you dirty little whore," he said, his fingers tracing the seam of my jeans. I squirmed in my seat, the public setting only adding to the thrill of his depraved whispers.

Throughout the day, his words followed me, a constant reminder of what was to come. Each task, each mundane chore was tinged with the erotic anticipation of being used and dominated by my husband later that night.

By the time the evening rolled around, and the kids were tucked into bed, I was a quivering mess of need and desire. My husband led me to our bedroom with a firm hand on the small of my back, his intentions clear.

"Undress, get on the bed and spread your legs," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. "Tonight, you're going to be the filthy little slut I know you are, and you're going to love every minute of it."

I did as I was told, my heart pounding in my chest as I anticipated the sweet torment of his touch. As he began to strip off his clothes, his eyes locked on mine, filled with lust and possession.

"I want to see inside that slutty little pussy, every little bit," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "You're going to hold them open so wide, you'll barely be able to stand it. And if you don't, if you even think about letting up, you'll get the spanking of your life."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as he spoke, his words dripping with promise and threat. I knew he wasn't kidding, that he would follow through on his promise if I didn't comply. My heart racing, I reached down and grasped my pussy lips, pulling them wide apart.

"Wider," he urged, his voice relentless. "I want to see every inch of that dirty little slit of yours. You're going to hold it open so wide, it's going to hurt."

I pulled harder, the stinging sensation escalating into a sharp, burning pain. My eyes began to water, tears streaming down my cheeks as I struggled to maintain the excruciating position. My cry filled the room, a mix of agony and the twisted pleasure that came from pleasing my husband.

"That's it, slut," he praised, his voice a cruel caress. "You're doing so well. But remember, if those lips close even the slightest bit, you'll be spanked soooo hard…"

I sobbed, my body shaking, as I held myself open for him. The pain was intense, but the fear of his punishment drove me on. I could feel my pussy lips, stretched to their limit, the sensitive skin protesting against the harsh treatment.

"Look at you," he sneered, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "You look so beautiful, crying and in pain, all for my pleasure. You're my perfect little whore, aren't you?"

I nodded, my voice stolen by the overwhelming sensations coursing through me. I was his to command, his to use, and I would endure anything to avoid his wrath.

"Good slut," he whispered, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. "You're so filthy, aren't you? Spreading yourself open for me, showing me every dirty inch of your cunt." Now, hold that position. It's time for me to fuck you like the dirty little whore you are."

His words cut through me, a sharp reminder of my place, of my role in this twisted game of pleasure and pain. I was his to use, his to degrade, and as he drove his cock into me with one brutal thrust, I felt a fresh wave of pain radiate from my core. My body arched to meet his, a moan escaping my lips as he filled me completely. He ground his pelvis against mine, the direct contact on my clit almost too intense to bear. 

He began to move, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating from my core. His eyes never left mine, a silent promise that he would wring every last drop of ecstasy from my body.

He began to fuck me with a relentless, punishing rhythm, each stroke pushing me deeper into the mattress. My pussy lips, pulled wide apart, were rubbed raw by the coarse hair on his pelvis, the friction sending jolts of pain through my body. My clit, fully exposed and engorged, was battered mercilessly by his pubic bone, each impact sending a confusing mix of agony and pleasure coursing through my veins.

Tears streamed down my face, my sobs filling the room, but my husband was relentless, his thrusts growing harder, faster, deeper. "You like this, don't you?" he growled, his voice a savage whisper in my ear. "You love being my little fuck toy, spreading your legs for me, letting me use you however I please."

I couldn't deny it, even if I wanted to. There was something about the humiliation, the pain, the sheer depravity of it all, that set my body on fire. I was his to command, his to fuck, and the knowledge that I was pleasing him, that I was fulfilling my role as his obedient little slut, was intoxicating.

"You're going to hold those lips open, you're going to take every inch of my cock, and you're going to thank me for it," he snarled, his fingers digging into my hips as he drove into me with renewed vigor. "You're going to show me what a good little whore you can be."

And so I held myself open, my fingers aching, my pussy on fire, as he claimed me, owned me, fucked me like a animal. My body was stretched to its limit, my mind clouded with shame and desire, and yet, I couldn't help but feel a sense of erotic humiliation that only seemed to heighten my arousal.

As he continued to fuck me, his dirty talk never ceased, each word a vile, filthy promise that only served to push me closer to the edge. "You're mine," he growled, his voice filled with possessive pride. "Every inch of this tight little cunt is mine, and I'll do with it as I please."

The sensation of my pussy lips stretched wide around his cock, combined with the relentless pressure on my clit, pushed me closer to the brink. My orgasm built like a gathering storm, powerful and inevitable.

As I teetered on the edge, my husband's breathing grew ragged, and I knew he was close too. With a guttural growl, he pulled back abruptly, his cock springing free just as his orgasm hit.

Hot ropes of cum splashed across my exposed pussy, coating my lips, my clit, my hole, in a warm, wet cascade. The sight of his release painting my most intimate area sent me tumbling over the edge. My own climax crashed over me, my pussy convulsing around nothing, the intensity of my contractions making me cry out.

My husband watched, entranced, as his cum dripped down my slit, mingling with my own slick arousal. "You look so beautiful when you come for me," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction.

I lay there, panting and spent, a mess of sensation and emotion. My pussy still spread wide, now glistening with his cum, a tangible reminder of his ownership and my submission.

"Good wife," he praised, his words making me feel cherished and adored. "You've taken me so well."

Then, he pulled out, his cock springing free from my pussy, and stood over me, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. I felt a surge of relief wash over me, thinking that the ordeal was finally over. But as I looked up at him, I knew that I wasn't done yet.

"May I release my pussy lips?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at me, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "No," he said simply, his voice firm and commanding. "You're going to stay just like that, spread wide open, until I'm finished with you."

I whimpered, feeling a pang of disappointment and frustration. But I knew better than to disobey him, to challenge his authority over me.

With a chuckle, he reached down, his fingers probing my swollen, cum-filled pussy. I gasped as he dug out his cum, scooping up the thick, sticky fluid with his fingers.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

I did as I was told, parting my lips as he brought his cum-coated fingers to my mouth. I could smell the musky scent of our mingled fluids, a potent reminder of the debauchery that had just taken place.

"Taste it," he growled, his eyes burning into mine. "Taste your filthy, used pussy, mixed with my cum. You're nothing but a dirty little cum slut, and you're going to swallow every last drop I feed you."

I closed my eyes, my face flushing with shame as I wrapped my lips around his fingers, tasting the salty tang of his cum. I swallowed obediently, my body shuddering with a mixture of revulsion and arousal.

But he wasn't finished with me yet. With a cruel laugh, he smeared the remaining cum over my face, coating my cheeks and forehead with the sticky fluid. I felt a surge of humiliation and shame as he rubbed it into my skin, making sure that I was fully covered.

And then, he moved on to my tits, smearing the cum over my nipples and breasts, making sure that I was fully marked as his property. I felt like a filthy, used toy, a plaything for him to use and discard at his whim.

As he finished, he stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "You look beautiful, you little cum slut," he said, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. "You're nothing but a dirty, filthy little whore, and you're going to stay that way until I'm finished with you."

I lay there, my body trembling with shame and humiliation, my face and tits coated with his cum, holding myself wide. I knew that I was his, completely and utterly, and that I would do anything to please him.

Still splayed open, my pussy aching and exposed, my husband knelt before me, his eyes locked onto my swollen, cum-soaked flesh. The shame of my position, coupled with the humiliation of being marked by his seed, sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through my veins.

"Please," I begged, my voice trembling with need. "I can't take much more."

He smirked, clearly delighting in my torment. "You'll take as much as I give you, slut," he said, his voice a low growl that made my stomach flip. "And right now, I'm going to feast on that dirty little cunt of yours until you come for me. Three more times."

Before I could respond, he dipped his head between my legs, his tongue darting out to taste me. I gasped as he licked my slit, his tongue swirling around my clit with expert precision. The sensation was overwhelming, my body already teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

As he continued to lick and suck, my hips bucked against his face, my body desperate for release. His hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place as he devoured me, his tongue delving into my pussy, lapping up our mixed juices.

The first of my three orgasms hit me like a freight train, my body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. My pussy clenched around nothing, the intensity of my climax amplified by the fact that I was still holding myself open for him.

But he didn't stop. His relentless tongue drove me higher and higher, pushing me towards a second orgasm. I writhed beneath him, my body a live wire, every nerve ending screaming for mercy.

And then, it happened again. My second climax crashed over me, even more powerful than the first. My screams echoed off the walls, my body shaking as I rode the waves of my release.

Yet still, he didn't relent. His mouth was like a vise, his tongue working my sensitive flesh with a fervor that left me breathless. I was certain I couldn't take any more, that my body would surely shatter into a thousand pieces if he continued.

But he was merciless, his only goal to wring a third orgasm from my exhausted body. As his tongue flicked over my clit, a sensation unlike any other built within me. It was as if every cell in my body was attuned to his touch, every fiber of my being focused on the exquisite pleasure he was bestowing upon me. My third orgasm began to build, a powerful surge of ecstasy that threatened to consume me whole.

In my frenzy, I pulled harder on my pussy lips, stretching them to their limit as I rode the waves of my release. The pain was intense, a searing burn that ran through my sensitive flesh like wildfire. I felt like I was being torn apart, my pussy lips screaming in protest as I pulled them wider and wider.

For a moment, I thought they would actually tear off, the pain was so intense. I could feel my flesh stretching, the skin thinning to the point where it seemed like it would surely rip. But I couldn't stop, couldn't help but pull harder as my orgasm reached its peak.

My body convulsed, my hips bucking against his face as I came. My screams echoed off the walls, my voice hoarse from crying out. I was lost in a sea of pleasure and pain, my body torn between the two as I rode the waves of my release.

And then, it was over. My body went limp, my pussy lips still held wide open as I panted and trembled with the aftershocks of my orgasm. I felt like I had been ravaged, my body used and abused in the most exquisite way. And then, it happened. My third orgasm tore through me, a powerful surge of ecstasy that left me boneless and panting. My body quivered with the aftershocks, my pussy still held open, now quivering and ultra-sensitive from the onslaught of pleasure.

"Get up," he commanded, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. I complied, my legs trembling as I rose, still holding my pussy lips open, displaying the evidence of our union.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his legs spread, and patted his bare thigh. "Straddle my knee for your slut spanking," he instructed. I obeyed, my cheeks burning with humiliation as I positioned myself, my tender, swollen sex making contact with the warm skin of his leg. The contrast of the cool air and the warmth of his leg against my most sensitive flesh was maddening.

"Good Girl," he praised, his hand caressing my ass before delivering a sharp slap. The sound reverberated through the room, followed by a stinging pain that quickly morphed into a heat that spread through my core. "You can release your lips now," he said, "but keep your pink grinding on my leg." My fingers relaxed, freeing my pussy lips to splay open, wrapping his leg in a tender, pink embrace.

He spanked me again and again, each blow a reminder of my place, my role, my submission. My body trembled, my pussy lips fluttering against his leg as I endured my slut spanking, a punishment and a mark of ownership that left me feeling deliciously violated and utterly his.

The position was deliciously degrading. My most intimate parts were on full display, my lips spread open by the girth of his leg, my arousal glistening on his skin. I could feel my wetness seeping onto him, a tangible sign of my submission that only served to fuel my humiliation and desire.

As I ground against him, each slap echoed in the room, the sound mingling with my gasps and the wet noises of my pussy against his leg. The sting of his palm against my ass cheeks contrasted with the gentle rub of my clit against his thigh, creating a confusing blend of pain and pleasure that left me reeling.

"That's it, slut," he murmured, his hand caressing the heated skin of my ass before delivering another sharp smack. "Ride my leg like the needy little whore you are."

My face burned with shame at his words, yet I couldn't deny the way my body responded. My hips moved with more urgency, the pink of my pussy grinding shamelessly against his leg, yet another orgasm building with an intensity that was both terrifying and irresistible.

I was lost in the rhythm, the spanking, the filthy words that fell from his lips. My world narrowed to the point where our bodies met, the relentless pressure against my clit, the sharp sting of his hand, the overwhelming sense of being utterly and completely owned.

When my fifth climax finally hit, it was like a dam bursting within me. I cried out, my body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. My pussy spasmed against his leg, my juices flowing freely, marking him as mine just as I was marked by his hand.

Spent and gasping for air, I collapsed against him, my body limp and sated. I lay there as I came down from the high of my submission.

He stroked my hair gently, a silent acknowledgment of my surrender, my obedience, my complete and utter devotion to him. And in that moment, I knew that I was exactly where I was meant to be—wrapped around his leg, branded by his hand, and utterly, irrevocably his.