DISCLAIMER: This author claims no ownership of SKIP BEAT! or its characters.
Warning: NSFW.
III:
She comes in when I'm almost done with my workout, waiting until my back is turned to the mirrored wall before she makes her entrance. I hide my smile. I know this game.
I smell her before I see her—she's freshly showered and the scent of the soap she uses permeates the air as she passes behind me. Melograno, they call it. It's expensive—some Italian brand I brought back from a shoot in Florence. She loves it, so I keep her well-stocked with the stuff. I know she'll yell at me when she finds out how much it costs, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. My wife deserves every luxury I can buy, and I make it my duty to make sure she gets what she wants—even when she protests. Especially when she protests.
She walks in with the confidence of a strutting cat, dressed in a sports bra and those skin-tight leggings that leave nothing to the imagination. I can see her puckered nipples underneath the fabric of that bra. I can see the outline of her labia underneath those leggings. With that innocent look on her face, no one but her devoted husband would ever know that the choice in clothing is deliberate.
My wife wants me to know what she wants, and what she wants is a good hard fuck.
A good hard fuck to breed her.
I suppress a grin. So much for a romantic love-making session this morning. I wanted to let her sleep in, maybe wake her up with a kiss and some breakfast in bed. I thought I'd exhausted her last night. I kept her tied to a spreader bar, taking load after load of my cum. The thought of breeding her—of filling that fertile cunt with my seed and impregnating her—made me lose all control. Last night I was a mindless animal rutting, a slave to the bliss I find between her thighs. All I could think about was how fertile she was, how open she was, how my seed would fill her and make her round with my child. I was claiming her as mine, more completely than I ever have before. The session went on far longer than I'd initially intended, but it's hard to stop when your lovely wife whimpers and begs like that. Doctor Tsuruga is a harsh master, but my god how her cunt drips for him.
I say nothing and continue with my bicep curls, watching her surreptitiously from the mirror. She pretends to ignore me too, but I see the way her eyes take in the sheen of sweat on my body. I am constantly aware of her—there's a magnetic pull towards her, even when she's not in my field of vision. I make a living off of looking nice, but I never paid much attention to my body until she came along. The day I realized she took pleasure from looking at it was the day I really began to work on it. Watching her eyes glaze in lust is worth any brutal workout regimen you can throw at me. The fact that it pays dividends in movie offers is just icing on that cake.
She begins stretching—normal stretches first, her arms, her neck, her hamstrings. And then she descends to the floor. The lunges, and then the butterfly. I watch as she splits those long legs wide open—a full split on the mat before she bends over and stretches her arms forward. It's a totally innocent toe-touch, but only Kyoko could make it look so obscene. Every move she makes is a message to me, and every time I look at her, my cock remembers the velvet warmth of her pussy. She stands and then bends over. She ensures I have a full view of her pert little ass before going down into a plank and holding it, and I silence a groan. I want to fill her, feel her cumming on my cock, feel her taking my cum—she knows exactly what I'm thinking. She knows she's made it impossible for me to think about anything else. This oddly torturous stretching session, with its languorous pauses and its bedroom eyes is not part of a normal workout. But this isn't a normal day. On a normal day, I know she'd do her core exercises—sharp bicycle crunches, timed mountain climbers, various contortions with weights. She works as hard as I do. Our trainer comes in every other day; he won't be in this weekend.
She picks up a disc weight and heads to the bench, and I have to turn away because this time I can't suppress my grin. I pretend to straighten our set of weights. In the mirror I watch as she parts her legs and begins doing hip thrusts, holding the disc weight against her. I suppress a laugh. My Kyoko can be subtle when she wants to be. This is not one of those times.
I keep up the pretense, though. I'll pretend I'm not watching her every move, and she'll pretend that she's just working out instead of being an unbelievable tease.
I head to the dip station. If she wants to be a tease, I'll respond in kind. The shirt comes off—I pull it over my head and drop it to the floor nonchalantly. She might as well enjoy the show. I know exactly what I'm doing—my body flexes and tenses for her. Pull-ups, first, then dips, and then knee raises, and by the time I'm doing L-sits, I look over at her. This time, when I grin, I don't look away. She's on the floor at a standstill and she's staring at me. Staring at me with wide, dilated eyes. I can see the barest hint of her tongue as she licks her lips unconsciously and that's when I know I've won.
"Want to do some of those wheelbarrow squats?" I ask her. I really don't. But I want my hands on her, and just grabbing her would be…far too easy.
"Oh," she says, and a bit of blush colors her cheek. She knows she's been caught staring. "Yes, that sounds like a great idea." I have to give her credit—as flustered as she looks, the line comes out as smoothly as butter.
We get into position. I feel the electricity between us as my hands grip her delicate ankles. I'm holding her legs up and apart as she holds herself up off the floor, and as I squat I smell her dirty little pussy. My wife is wet for me, and I know I'm not going to be able to keep up the pretense much longer. I'm hard and getting harder, and she's so close and so willing—
No. Not yet. I want her dripping through her leggings when I finally take her.
I have her lie back for leg throws—I'm far too tall for her to reciprocate the wheelbarrows. But this time, when I throw her legs forward, I look her in the eyes.
Looking into Kyoko's eyes can be a dangerous thing. It's difficult, sometimes, when she wants me to play the Doctor, the Master, the Lecherous Teacher. It's hard because when I look into her eyes I am stripped of all pretense and I am just myself, and when I am myself, our roleplay ceases and I just love her. When I look into those eyes, I drown. Over and over again, willingly. I die in her and she gives me life—from her, there can be no parting. She thinks she surrenders to me, but she must know how completely I am hers. Quietly, lovingly, I stop throwing her legs forward and hold them still, instead. I bend down and press a kiss to the inside of her ankle, and then I lower her legs.
"But Doctor," she responds. Her voice is breathy and hoarse, and it raises an octave as I pinch a nipple through her bra. "Please, Doctor—you said—"
"I know what I said, slut," I tell her. So I am to be the good Doctor again, apparently. So be it. Whatever Kyoko wants, Kyoko gets. I remember that delivery of the line is half the battle, and I don't care how ridiculous I sound. "I'm glad to see you getting your exercise—" I take a long, slow look at her as she whimpers, but I am determined to take my time. "Exercise is an important part of keeping yourself healthy, my dear," I lecture, "and even a dirty little girl like you needs to spend some time in the gym."
She sits up and her hands are on me before I can stop her—lightning-fast, she pushes the waistband of my shorts down to reveal my cock at attention. And then she's got it in her hand and the pleasure of it—the feel of her skin against mine—is unbearable. Those gold eyes look up at me with naked lust and I feel her breath against my cock. All of a sudden she's stopped being my angel, because the voice I hear is a whore's. "I need to taste you," she says, "please—use my mouth—"
I buck against her and I feel her lips form a tight seal on the head of my cock. Her tongue wastes no time, probing at me lasciviously, swirling just where I'm most sensitive. The contact is electrifying, even now. All my senses center on where we touch; every thought leaves my head as I thrust into her mouth reflexively. But I stop myself. I don't trust myself. All this teasing has me at a fever pitch—before, I would have happily fucked her slutty little mouth, fisting my hand into her hair before emptying my load into her throat. But though I love it when she swallows, my cum belongs in her pussy right now. I withdraw from her throat and I take her chin in my hands. "Nah uh, slut," I tell her. "You know my cum belongs in your fuck hole."
She whimpers and then acquiesces as I push her back onto the mat and lie on top of her. I nudge her legs open with my knee. She keeps them open for me. "That's my good girl," I tell her. "Tell me what you're here for, love."
Those legs caress me, sliding up my sides as I cage her in my arms—I'm in a plank, I realize, looking down at her face. "I'm here to be your breeding bitch, Doctor," she says. Her voice is rising up into a high whine as I grind my hard cock into her legging-covered pussy. "I'm here for you to claim—please take me—"
I shut that dirty mouth with my tongue. She locks her legs around me as I lower myself down to deepen our kiss. Our tongues meet and the hunger in her inflames me. Softly I nip at her lip; she gasps but I am kissing her again. I taste her mouth—my tongue is inside her—and then I stop and look at her. She's panting lightly, catching her breath as I caress her face and my hand dips down to her center. She gasps and thrusts herself towards my hand as I rub at her clit. I am pleased to find her juices have soaked through her leggings after all and she moans as she grinds herself on me. For a moment I rub her wet pussy through the fabric, and when I lock my lips against her neck, I feel her reach for my hard cock as she throws her head back with a wordless cry.
I sit up, taking my hand away from her. I grab the hand that had been reaching for my cock and I use it to pull her to me. She whimpers and tries to reach for me again, but I have other ideas. I pick her up into a princess carry, but instead of taking her to bed, I take her to the dip station's parallel bars. I hold her up and she leans back against the padded back rest, suspended off the floor in my arms.
"Arms up," I tell her, and she complies immediately. She grasps the pull up bar as I place her right leg and then her left leg on the padded parallel bars, and now she is suspended on a metal frame, legs wide open. She holds herself up on the strength of her body alone. Nothing will support that delicious ass until I'm fucking it into the frame.
Her eyes are wide as her breathing quickens. "Please?" she asks me.
I shake my head at her eagerness. "No, Kyoko," I tell her. "You really need more discipline, darling."
Slowly I push that ineffectual sports bra over the mounds of her perky breasts, leaving it bunched on her chest as I suck them in. I swirl my tongue around her nipples, slowly, before pulling at them gently with my lips. Kyoko has always had sensitive nipples, and I know every tug I give makes her wetter. She moans when the tug gives way to suction and I take her other breast with my hand, and then those moans turn to wails as I alternate between the two, swirling and sucking as her hips buck upwards into my body. I indulge myself and I torture her, wanting to prolong this agony.
Finally I descend to her center. I feel Kyoko tense up, waiting, as I cup her pussy through her leggings. Shamelessly I rub her through them, first with my hands and then with my face. The scent of her is intoxicating—that unmistakable smell of a woman in heat, mixed with the smell of her soap and the detergent on her leggings. I breathe her in, over and over, feeling myself grow lightheaded on her body. I am pleased to think that she is marking me with her scent. When she's squirming for relief, I lick her dripping cunt through the fabric. For a while I do this, teasing her, teasing myself. And when she's all but sick with frustrated desire, I take my hands and tear through those leggings.
The seams give way to my hands with a satisfying riiiiiiiiiip sound. The fabric tears away jaggedly and now there is nothing between her cunt and my cock.
She gasps at the brutality of my actions, but now I have her framed just as I want her. For all the violence I've shown this pussy, it looks delicate and beautiful, lips opening like a flower. Seeing it like this makes me slightly ashamed of myself—all I want to do is despoil it, rut into it with my cock. I begin by kissing her inner thighs and then placing my lips at the base of her pussy. I lap her up—my wife is dripping copious juices for me—as her moans grow again into an unbearable intensity. Soon my fingers join my tongue and I have entered that fragile little cleft, all the while aware of the contrast between the petal-like folds of her cunt and my rough hands. I thrust into her with my fingers as I tongue her clit—I can see how close she is to cumming. I am vaguely aware that her juices have begun dripping onto the mat below, and I stroke her relentlessly; faster, harder, deeper with my fingers until she screams out my name and then cums.
When she comes back down to earth, I'm there, watching. I know she isn't satisfied, not really, and I am not satisfied at all. She watches me with hooded eyes, waiting. I push my fingers into her mouth and she licks them desperately, tasting herself as I run my cock over her slit—not enough to enter her, but enough to tease. "Please, Doctor," she says again. "Your dirty fuckslut needs your cum."
I am looking her in the eyes when I enter her. She gasps as my head slips into her cunt, her mouth opening to reveal pearly teeth. She's so fucking tight. So fucking good. I thrust forward a few more inches. The pleasure is almost enough to make me lose all my coherent thought, and I hold on long enough to be gentle at first. She's whimpering as I slowly sheathe myself in her fully. "Yes," I tell her. "You do need my cum." I pull out and then thrust back in, hard, as she wails. "You need my cum in your unprotected pussy," I say. Her entire body shakes and as I fuck upwards into her. "This is what you're for." I feel her cunt spasm as I whisper the words into her ear. She's let go of the bars above and she's holding on to my shoulders now. Her wetness is dripping down her thighs and onto me and onto the floor.
Her whimpers fill the air, in tandem with the fuck that I'm giving her. "Breed me," she whimpers, and then she cums onto my cock as I thrust in. I fuck her through her orgasm, feeling her cunt pulse and squeeze around my cock. The feel of it maddens me and then I find I can't care much for control after all. I give in and fuck her with the force and the conviction of others around me. Her head whips back as I thrust into her. Her breasts shake in rhythm. She's incoherent now, but I hear snippets of my name interspersed with begging. Harder, then. I thrust harder into her as I give in to my own pleasure, and soon I am lifting her off of the dip station—I lower us onto the floor, my cock still inside her, and then I start again. I take one leg and bend it back towards her ears and she's in a split as I pound her without mercy. It isn't long before she cums and as her pussy clamps down on my cock, I lose it too. I thrust into her hard and deep, roaring as I empty myself into her willing body.
I am not willing to let her go, so I take her mouth and kiss her as I keep my half-hard cock in her pussy. The floor isn't comfortable for either one of us, so I reluctantly part from her, just for a little while as I lift her up and off of the floor and carry her to our bedroom. My Kyoko is a mess, her leggings in tatters, her bra flung across the gym.
None of that matters, though. I put a hand on her flat belly as she snuggles into me. "Love you," she mumbles. I just smile. It won't be long until I'm ready again.
