Craving: A Kylo Ren Tale

Thirty-Two

The woman has blonde hair in a long braid, a fair complexion, and a beautifully curvaceous frame. She's on top of a man, riding his muscular body while his large hands grip her waist.

I'm watching them in awe, always keeping Kylo in the corner of my eye. He's not interested in what's happening on stage, he's observing my every move. Hypnotized by every rise and fall of my chest as my breath becomes more shallow. Drinking in every small gasp escaping my mouth.

They're grinding passionately, and I watch as one of his hands moves to grab her ponytail. He tugs it harshly, ripping her head backwards. Her cries of pain and pleasure echo throughout the dark room.

As he's yanking her hair, forcing her back to arch and her face to tilt towards the theater's ceiling, he begins thrusting upwards and fucking her with vigor. She's trapped in this position, helpless as one of his hands holds her hair like a leash and the other grips her hip into place.

I can feel wetness pooling between my thighs, seeping into my lace panties as I observe. A sound from the next table catches my attention, and when I turn and blink into the darkness, I can just barely see a woman kissing a man while he's stroking his exposed cock.

Back on stage, he's turned the woman over and is driving his full length into her harshly. Her face is in the mattress, her muffled cries still loud enough for all to hear. Over and over again his hips snap into hers, slapping the skin roughly and I can see her ass is already turning pink.

His hands fondle her breasts, pinching her nipples and eliciting more sounds. He's getting close, his own moans are becoming louder and needier. I watch as the man pulls the woman up on her knees, places both hands around her neck and begins to squeeze.

Her grunts and gasps are desperate, his thrusts are animalistic. She's surely feeling incredible amounts of pleasure, her eyes are closed as she submits to the lightheaded high of having her oxygen stolen.

He's fucking her faster, harsher, gripping her neck and holding her very life in his hands while he propels them both closer to orgasm.

Soon she's making no sound at all, the only noises are his ragged breaths and their skin slapping together.

"Tulp, tulp!" she meekly croaks out.

I recognize her safe word as Dutch for tulip. His hands release her fragile neck and she gulps down air, upper body falling back into the mattress as the dizzy rush of oxygen heightens every sensation.

As she's writhing and screaming through the pleasure, he pulls out and aggressively strokes his cock as he cums across her back and ass. I hear the man at the table next to us sputter his own orgasm into his hand.

The velvet curtain falls again, but the lights in the room stay dim. Soon enough the next scene is presented and when the curtain rises, my eyes eagerly take in every detail.

The bed is gone and so is the previous couple. Standing in the middle of the stage is an alluring woman with dark brown skin and wild curls. She's scantily clad in all black leather, and the only word to describe her would be dominatrix.

Her boots lace to her mid thigh, her bra and short-shorts cling to her skin. She stands confidently, letting the audience soak in her commanding attitude. In her hands is what I recognize to be a cat o' nine tails whip.

But beside her is something even more intriguing. A giant X, slightly taller than the woman, made of dark wood.

I watch as another woman joins her on stage, completely naked. She's covered in a splatter of freckles, brown hair falls to her shoulders. The dominatrix kisses her at first, hands running up and down her figure.

But the mood shifts and she forces her submissive to the floor. She speaks to her in Dutch and I don't need a translator to figure out what she's commanded. The brunette begins licking up the entire length of one of the leather boots.

The dominatrix stands tall, letting the audience take it all in as she flexes her control. When the tongue of her submissive reaches her bare thigh, she pushes her back down to repeat the action on her other leg.

She pulls the woman up to her feet and guides her to the cross. One by one, she begins restraining her limbs to the cuffs on each post. When she's finished, her submissive is spread out in an X, both hands and both feet secured to the device.

I turn to Kylo, intrigued beyond belief.

"What is that?" I ask him.

He turns to the stage, only needs to observe for a brief moment before returning to his position of watching me.

"Saint Andrew's Cross," he expertly assesses.

Before turning back to watch the stage, my hand trails up his leg and finds a stiff erection pressing against his pants. His breath hitches when I palm him suggestively through the fabric.

As my fingers play with his bulge, I watch the dominatrix walk a circle around her restrained submissive. Her hand moves swiftly, lightly whipping the leather against the brunette's stomach. It snaps against her skin, pink marks instantly appear.

"Dank je," she replies to her Madame. Thanks her for the pain.

This pleases the dominatrix, who runs the tasseled whip along the brunette's bare breasts. They repeat this process a dozen times- whipping, thanking, caressing, again and again.

Her pale skin is littered with pink and red, the blank canvas of her body has been painted with the dominatrix's brush.

Kylo's hand has been over mine, guiding it up and down his erection over his pants. When the woman in leather bends down to put her mouth on the exposed cunt of her restrained submissive, Kylo pulls his cock from his pants and wraps my fingers around his hard member.

My mouth unconsciously opens into a moan, unable to stop myself from putting sound to my mood. I'm stroking Kylo's length, savoring how incredibly hard he feels in my hand, while watching the woman on the cross screaming in ecstasy.

The dominatrix is on her knees, her fingers slide up and into her submissive, fucking her while circling her clit. Her mouth and hand work furiously, the X shaped woman tugs at her restraints while climbing closer and closer to orgasm.

I'm excited to watch her finish, but Kylo's hand reaches to my head and pulls me down to his cock. My lips open happily to accept him and he wastes no time tangling his hands in my hair and guiding me down his entire length.

I'm bobbing and gagging, Kylo is fucking my mouth, and the women on stage continue to fill the room with lewd noises.

He's in full control of my motions, moving my head at the exact speeds he feels like. He's using my body, and I don't have to glance up to know what look he's giving me in the dark. The controlling rage and passion of his chiseled face is etched in my mind.

When the woman on stage is licked to orgasm, her cries tell me how incredible her body is feeling on the cross.

And after Kylo cums down my throat, he gently tucks my hair behind my ear and wipes the drool from my chin with his thumb.

We leave partway through the third act, he says he's been inspired enough. We share a cigarette while waiting for our driver, the smoke mixes on my tongue with the lingering taste of wine and Kylo.