Chapter Text
High in the sky, the early summer sun beamed through the window, warming Greta’s chilled skin. Right about now she regretted her choice to turn on the air conditioner in their gym/home office/spare room, but it had been so stuffy in there, and heat stroke was not sexy. So instead, she lay here freezing, sprawled naked along a weight bench, legs spread as wide open as she could, nipples getting harder by the minute, waiting for her wife to come home.
A little over five years ago now, Greta took a chance on love and ended up as the greatest thing she had ever been, Carson Shaw’s. It still rang true that she fell a little further every day, a feat that if it wasn’t happening to her, she would have deemed impossible as deep as her feelings were from the start.
Though, perhaps what surprised Greta the most was how much she still wanted Carson. Time had done nothing to quench her thirst or sate her hunger. If anything, the depth of her need had grown every time her lover made her come. So, if she gave up control to someone who knew what to do with it, do with her, well that was a win-win in her book. That is how she found herself waiting for Carson, earlier than she had even been ordered to.
Fuck, she’d do anything Shaw told her to, and her lover knew it, expected it, and sometimes demanded it.
How much pleasure she gained is exactly what allowed her to submit like the bottom she so naturally was, free from real world hinderances. Sure, she played it up, sometimes a lot, but anyone who had ever been topped by Carson wouldn’t fault her for that.
There was just something about the act of giving over everything to your lover, that had always done it for her. Correction, the idea of it had always done it for her, but never until Carson did fantasy meet reality.
Subconsciously, the redhead began to trail her nails across her chest, goose bumps spreading in their wake. Her pussy coming alive. Fuck, Greta was ready, but resisted the urge to draw her fingers any lower. If she wanted to come anytime soon, she could not get caught “stealing Carson’s pleasure.” Unless… What time was it anyways?
Straining her ears for any sign that her wife was home, and not hearing a thing, Greta quickly threw one long leg over the bench and stood. A couple of long strides later, she pulled her phone off the old oak desk in the corner. Within 20 seconds at most, she was once again straddling the bench.
Eager now, the redhead fumbled through her phone for her camera app. The second it was open, she slid 2 long fingers inside herself. There was zero resistance as she was already soaked. The thought alone of what Carson did to her was enough to make her wetter than she had ever been with anyone else.
So focused on finding the perfect angle, near impossible with one hand, Greta didn’t hear her lover enter the room. Not until a familiar voice, thick with arousal, husked, “what do you think you are doing?”
Her phone fell from her weak grasp, bouncing off her thigh, then hitting the floor with a thud as her eyes flew open, meeting Carson’s. Her wife’s pupils being blown the only evidence she was affected at all.
The intensity with which she stared though. Fuck. Greta clenched around her fingers, yet still, she didn’t move them. That also meant that they were still inside her. Yeah, Carson was never going to let her come anytime soon.
Too late she realized she also hadn’t answered until her lover stepped forward and said, “I asked you a question.”
Heart beating loudly in her ears, pussy throbbing, Greta whined, “I was trying to take a picture for you.”
Carson scoffed, “did I ask you to do that?”
“No,” the redhead whimpered as Carson stepped even closer.
“Did I tell you that you could touch what’s mine?” Carson husked, reaching out to pinch Greta’s nipple. Hard enough for the pleasure to shoot through her, but not hard enough to cause real pain.
All Greta could do was squirm, which allowed her fingers to sink even deeper. Without conscious thought, the redhead moaned when they brushed that spot. “Answer me,” Carson growled, eyes locked between Greta’s legs.
“Wh…what?” Greta stammered, because what was the question?
Carson pinched her nipple again, this time twisting it between her thumb and index finger, white hot need shooting to Greta’s core. Fuck, if this kept up, she was going to come. Then her lover was never going to let her come again, at least not tonight, and that just wouldn’t do.
Even more of a mess than when she started, Greta was sliding her fingers out with no issue, until Carson created a roadblock by firmly grabbing her wrist. Leaning in, her lover’s hot breath made Greta’s neck tingle when she asked, “did I tell you to stop?”
“No,” she whimpered again, her walls throbbing around her fingers as Carson pushed them back in.
“You seem to have forgotten who your pleasure belongs to.”
“No-” she gasped as Carson jerked her hand up.
Staring her down, Carson asked, “oh, no? Then maybe you can tell me what you are doing fucking what’s mine.”
It could be argued that with Shaw in full control, Greta was no longer doing that, but that was more words than she could manage right now. Funnily enough, she wasn’t all that sure she could say any.
Especially when Carson kissed the little sensitive spot behind her ear that always made Greta weak, then said, “you were supposed to be waiting like a good girl. Don’t you like being my good girl?”
Falling into Carson, her cheek resting on her lover’s firm abs, Greta tried to seductively whisper, “yes.” It came out as more of a loud needy moan when Carson used her free hand to tweak Greta’s nipple again, the hardest yet. The fact that the redhead’s fingers moved inside her this time was admittedly on her.
Carson tightened her grip and mocked, “oh, you want to come? So desperate you couldn’t wait for me? Well, go on then.” Dropping Greta’s hand as if she no longer cared.
If the redhead was in her right mind, she would have seen the set-up. As it was, the hunger deep inside her won. Her breaths heavy and raw as Greta finally began to fuck herself, fast and hard. So turned on it almost hurt, and fully on display for Carson’s eyes to devour, she was not going to last long. “Fuck, Shaw.”
Carson, who had never stopped taking it all in with faux indifference asked, “oh, it’s Shaw still?”
“Mmhmm,” she answered, because obvs. Who else would she ever feel comfortable enough for all of this with, while sober anyways.
“Then tell me, who does this pussy belong to?” her lover asked while cupping her hand between the redhead’s legs.
“Y…ou,” Greta panted. “Fuck, baby, only you.”
Just about to tip over into so much fucking bliss, her mouth dropped open when Carson smacked her hand just hard enough to startle, demanding, “then stop. Now!”
“Fuck, Shaw,” Greta whimpered pathetically. She was so fucking close but fuck if Carson didn’t do it so much better. Listening now was the only shot she had of being spoiled like that anytime soon. It might have taken every ounce of strength she had, but Greta did what she was told.
Though it lacked any gracefulness at all, in a few moves, Carson stood over her, straddling the bench. Pushing Greta down onto her back and pinning her hands above her head, her wife was in total control, just the way they both liked it. Desire rippled through her, bringing her right back to the edge, where once again she was left clenching around nothing, this time desperately.
“You’ve been a naughty girl, Greta Shaw. Whatever will I do with you?”
“Whatever you-” roughly, Carson kissed the words right out of her mouth. Hot and dirty, full of their overwhelming passion for one another, Greta found herself gasping for breath as soon as her wife released her.
“Do not move,” Carson ordered, before stepping to one side of the bench.
Greta could only watch as her lover took her sweet ass time crossing the room. Once she reached the wooden dresser on the side wall, Carson knelt to rummage through the bottom drawer. Pulling out a couple of spools of nylon rope, before standing.
“This will do for now,” the brunette said, walking back to Greta at the same excruciatingly slow pace. How the hell did she have so much willpower? If the roles were reversed, the redhead would have been buried between her lover’s legs by now.
There was no doubt in her mind that her wife was excited. They had been doing this long enough that Greta knew Carson would be drenched. Knew she would come ridiculously fast, at least the first time. But to look at her, delicately knotting one of the red ropes around Greta’s hands, she looked cool, calm, collected.
Unlike Greta who was as visibly shaken as she felt on the inside. Her need for Carson had, always shined through. She didn’t need to see herself to know her ivory skin was flush. She could feel the sweat threatening to bubble from her previously chilled flesh that was now hot to the touch.
Or it would be, if Greta could reach out and touch herself. Moving her arms resulted in a pointless tug. If she tried any harder, she would end up with rope burn, and since nothing was happening at the moment to be worth the risk, she let it go.
Carson smirked at her knowingly. That sexy dimple pulling her in. That mouth and all the things it could do making the redhead’s need throb between her legs. Even more than that, it echoed through her body. Through the vast emptiness that only Carson Shaw can fill.
Her grin somehow getting bigger, Carson teased, “you’ve touched enough don’t you think?” Gentle fingertips stroking Greta’s cheeks down to her chin, down her neck, across her chest. Slowly circling that hardened nub.
Greta’s attention pulled to the hand on her tits, Carson caught her completely unaware as she thrust two fingers from her free hand into the redhead’s soaking wet heat. The cry that roared from Greta’s chest, so full of animalistic need that it didn’t even sound like her.
All she could do was whimper when Carson demanded, “it’s my turn now.” But then, going against what she had just said, and as abruptly as she had entered Greta, her wife began to pull out. The redhead slammed her legs shut, trying to keep her there for just a minute more. It probably wouldn’t even take that at this point. Not as fucking ready as she was.
“Uh, uh, uh,” Carson chided, her firm tone like a flick of her tongue across Greta’s clit. Prying the redhead’s legs open, the brunette freed her hand from Greta’s deadly grasp. Dropping to her knees, Carson grabbed the last rope, hurrying to tie the redhead’s legs wide open.
Now, completely at Shaw’s mercy, Greta never felt so powerful. Alive. Desperate to be fucked. “Please, Carse,” tumbled out of her mouth.
Looking up at her, brown eyes almost black, the sexiest woman Greta had ever seen asked, “you think you deserve to come?”
“Yes?” she whispered back, framed as a question for plausible deniability. Because fuck, couldn’t Carson let her get some relief first and then edge her? She was so fucking close. Every cell in her body was on fire. How much of this could she really take?
Fingertips trailing up her long legs pushed that answer further out, every inch feeling like a mile on her wife’s slow trek towards where Greta physically ached for her. Needing to be filled.
Carson’s words, gentle but commanding teased just behind her right knee. Hot breath leaving her tingling as she mumbled into one of the redhead’s ticklish zones, “I’m not sure you do.” Any giggles were swallowed up by her deep inhalation.
“You’ve been a bad girl. You were supposed to wait for me. But you couldn’t do that. So now, you’ll wait longer.”
“I’ll do anything,” Greta pled, and meant it. Fuck, did she mean it.
Kissing up the back of her legs, Carson advised, “oh, you will, but you still won’t come until I say you can.” Greta’s heartbeat pulsed across her labia. Fuck the things this woman could do to her. Did to her, her mind corrected as her wife sucked hard enough on her inner thigh to leave a hickey. Marking what was hers.
“Carse,” Greta moaned.
“Yes?” her lover hummed as she switched to the redhead’s other thigh, without even pretending like she was going to give Greta that release she was already so eager for.
“Please, Shaw,” she begged this time, pulling on her restraints to no avail.
Sitting up, moving her face even further from where Greta needed her the most, Carson smirked, “you know, desperate looks good on you. It really does something for me. And since I know how to be good…” Her wife trailed off as she leaned forward, kissing up even higher than before.
When her mouth reached where Greta was spilling onto her inner thighs, her lover licked her essence right off her skin. It was a losing battle as her wetness grew with every stroke. Jesus, she was going to come before her lover even put her mouth where she really wanted it.
Then, because she could, Carson stopped all together to murmur, “since you are such a naughty girl, I think its only fair I come first. Don’t you?”
Her teasing tone reverberating through Greta’s lower belly. The jolt between her legs told her the joke might be on her wife. She was so on edge, her arousal on a hair trigger just waiting for a chance to explode, that Carson’s pleasure would likely detonate all sense she had left.
Standing up, Carson slowly peeled her tank top off as Greta bit her lip in rapt fascination. Even in a mind hazy with need, Carson had her full attention. Whoever said sports bras weren’t sexy had clearly never seen this side of her wife. They wouldn’t know now either.
This muscular goddess sliding her shorts down firm thighs was all hers. Greta licked her lips upon seeing the wet spot on her lover’s panties. Her mouth soon watering for Carson’s evident arousal. It wasn’t just hips that didn’t lie.
“Don’t worry,” Carson teased as she yanked off the last layers between them. “You’re going to clean up the mess you made.”
Fully nude now, Carson strutted the couple steps towards Greta’s head. Bending as if she was going to press their lips together, but evading at the last moment, left Greta chasing her lips as far as her ropes would allow.
Looking right at her, Carson whispered, “that’s not where I want you to kiss me.”
Head spinning, Greta purred. For as much as she loved kissing her wife’s face, sometimes the desire was to go much lower. This time, Carson served herself up, straddling the bench, and then inching up.
Her wife’s heat hovering right over Greta’s face left her drunk-on desire. Their hooded eyes met when Carson stared down at her. Her wife’s arousal wafting through the air above her, teased the best thing Greta had ever had in her mouth. Her sweetest dessert.
She couldn’t resist, bracing herself against the ropes that bound her, just enough to lean up and take a long swipe of Carson’s delectable pussy.
“Fuck,” Carson groaned, her persona slipping, just a little before she backed off just enough to be out of reach. “You still…still don’t know who is in charge here,” Carson groaned.
Greta’s effect on her wife, much the same as the brunette’s effect was on her, left them both a little shakier with each passing moment. The redhead’s world spun, nothing existed except the two of them. Devoted to everything Carson Shaw, and since she ain’t too proud to beg, Greta moaned, “please fuck my mouth, Carse.”
Grabbing Greta’s chin, pinching her skin under callused fingers, Carson husked, “fucking filthy,” before squatting enough to drag her outer lips back and forth between Greta’s open and waiting mouth.
Breathing through her nose, the redhead devoured the offering as if it was the only thing she needed to survive. In this moment anyways, maybe it was. The intensity of it all left her squirming. Though surely close herself, Carson demanded, “you will not come before me. And not until I tell you that you can.”
Face full of delightful heat, Greta could make no promises, though she’d try. Pleasing Carson pleased her, so fucking much. And if she was good, Carson would reward her in the best of fucking ways.
Not that this was a hardship as she flicked her tongue back and forth across Carson’s clit, buried in that delectable swollen pussy. Sucking that hardened pearl between her lips, diving in as far as she could, her breathing just as ragged as her wife’s as Carson dropped onto her face, making it near impossible to breathe.
If this was it, if she went out buried between Carson’s legs, what a way to go. As if her lover could hear her thoughts, she lifted herself up on legs as wobbly as a newborn colt. With more space now, Greta took a deep, shaky breath before she curled her tongue and thrust it into her wife’s soaking wet opening.
“Fuck, Greta, fuck,” Carson encouraged, one hand fisting her hair as she rode the redhead’s face. Greta fucked her with everything she had. Delighting in the way Carson’s walls pulsed around her as she continued her praises. “Such a good girl. So good for me. “
Greta’s own core feeling every movement. Every word. Her praise kink on point. She fell closer to the edge, the more Carson fucked her face. Begging with her body as her words demanded, “don’t stop,” as if Greta would ever.
She needed this, maybe as much as her lover did. Her own core ached in need, almost painful now as she got caught up in the heady thrall of it all. The singular focus of fucking Carson Shaw like no one else had ever. Could ever.
With a loud hum, and a particularly hard thrust into her wife, Carson’s pussy clenched around her, pushing Greta’s tongue out and coating it with her pleasure as she cried out, “fuck, baby!”
Somehow, she still had the presence of mind to not smother Greta as she held herself up, thighs trembling as they framed Greta’s face.
“My good girl,” Carson cooed, and the words went straight from Greta’s brain to her throbbing need.
“Please, Shaw, please fuck me,” Greta cried out in desperation, the ropes cutting into her skin as she danced the line between the real world and the plane she was ascending to. So far gone, it was an out of body experience. Desire possessed every cell in her body, leaving her floating.
Dark eyes drank her in from her flushed face that spread down to her chest. A trail leading from her brain to hardened nipples, a road map of her pleasure, culminating between her legs, the wettest she had maybe ever been. As Carson’s wife, that was saying something.
The look on her lover’s face almost predatory as she stepped to one side of the bench, never taking her eyes off her prey until she suddenly began to back away. Greta’s body nearly rioted in frustration.
“Please, Shaw,” Greta whimpered. She couldn’t fucking take it anymore. Seconds away from being unalived, she just knew it.
Carson seemed to ignore her but headed right to the bottom drawer once again. Fuck, she was the only bottom that Carson should be worried about, Greta groaned to herself.
That was until her wife stood triumphantly with their favorite strap, and the redhead became feral. As she read somewhere, being fucked like this was only as good as the giver of all the pleasure. They had to know what they were doing, which left most men out. Carson on the other hand, could wield a fucking strap.
Sliding into the harness, the brunette took the silliest part of the whole thing and made it sexy as fuck. Shimmying her hips with a promise as Greta’s body did the begging for her.
“I want to ruin you,” Carson husked as she stalked back to Greta, yanking her ass right to the edge. Lining herself up and thrusting directly into the pool of need at Greta’s center.
Any remaining blood rushed to make her entire core pulse, tingles sparking across her clit and deep inside as she instantly came, beyond any self-control she might have had. Her mind was fuzzy as her eyes rolled back into her head. Toes curling as her entire body tensed.
“Fuck, Shaw,” she shuddered. After shocks rippling through her entire body.
Instead of continuing to fuck her, causing orgasm after orgasm as she tended to do, Carson pulled out. The sudden emptiness left Greta whimpering. “Please,” she begged again, nowhere near finished.
Carson scowled at her before leaning down to whisper, “you did not have permission to come. So, we are going to move this to the bed, and I’ll show you what happens to naughty girls who don’t do as they are told. You better get comfortable; it’s going to be a long night.”