Free Alison's Wonderland by Alison Tyler

armchair, feeling the soft silk embrace her bare body as she sat down. She stretched her legs out and presented her high-heeled, pointy-toed black leather boots, which were soaked through and muddy.
    Andrew crawled to her and lowered his face to her filthy boots. Belle caught him before his mouth met the muddy leather. Her hand went into his long blond hair and she pulled.
    “You have me at a disadvantage,” she said. “Is that fair, Andrew?”
    “No, Madame,” he said. She released his hair. He went to get up as he reached for the fastening of his breeches; again, Belle shook her head.
    With some difficulty, Andrew undressed on his knees, kicking off his own footwear first and then removing his breeches to reveal his ample erection, which was even larger than Belle had first thought. When Andrew’s tight top finally made it over his head, he discovered that Madame Belle’s knees were now folded neatly over the great pillowed arms of the chair, her thighs spread wide and her sex blatantly revealed, the smooth flesh pink with want and the center of her glistening and aromatic. Struggling to contain his hunger, Andrew bent sideways toward one of Madame Belle’s muddy boots.
    “Please,” she said, slipping her hand into his hair again. “Please don’t play dumb. You know what you were asking—oh!” She guided his mouth to her sex and pulled his hair firmly as, obediently, Andrew began to lick.
    He serviced Belle’s sex ably, licking from the sweet center of her opening up to the swollen bud of her clitoris, which drew great sighing moans from her, and later great shuddering gasps, as his tongue skillfully caressed it. His lips closed gently around her clitoris and he worked it eagerly with his tongue as her pleasure mounted.
    “I wonder if you think you’re going to get that thing inside me?” she panted as she neared her orgasm. “I’ve never had a boy to play with before. I’ve always been on the bottom, Andrew. Do you think I’m still dying to get fucked, boy? Andrew, I asked you a question.”
    She had timed it right, so that his mouth’s withdrawal from her sex to answer bought her several more seconds of pleasure.She did not want to climax too quickly; to do so would be to all but waste the subtle caresses of a very submissive man. Belle had never enjoyed such things before, and planned to savor them as long as she could.
    “I believe Madame will do what she wishes,” said Andrew obediently. His mouth returned to its ministrations on her clitoris, and Belle pushed him back.
    “Of course,” said Belle. “But do you think I want to get fucked? Andrew! I asked you a fucking question.”
    Andrew drew back, his mouth dripping with Belle’s juices.
    “Yes, Madame. I believe you do want to get fucked.”
    “Mmmmmm.” Belle sighed. She laughed. “Just like a man… He thinks his cock rules the universe. Get me off, boy.” She was very close at that moment, and almost no malfeasance on Andrew’s part could have prevented an intense orgasm by Belle, but it gave her pleasure to order him to finish her. So often, as a bottom, she had been denied orgasm at the last minute. It invigorated her, now, to take as she wished.
    Andrew obediently returned his mouth to her sex, and Belle relaxed into the strokes of his tongue as he serviced her clit. She pushed off her climax as long as she could, savoring the pleasure, but finally Andrew’s skills were more than she could resist. She came fiercely. One hand clawed her own thighs until she left great pink furrows; the other went snaking into Andrew’s hair and gripped him, forcing his head roughly against her sex as her pleasure mounted and her hips started to move. Andrew continued his service as the Madame, essentially, used him. Belle had never fucked a man’s face like that before. She came harder than she ever had.
    As she relaxed into the succulent, warm afterglow of her orgasm, Belle was surprised to discover that Andrew continued servicing her, his