Mummy Craving

The craving for her touch had only grown stronger. Days passed in a haze of anticipation, every moment spent recalling the way her lips had felt against his skin, the way her voice had purred commands that sent shivers down his spine. He belonged to her, and he needed more.

Tonight, she had summoned him again.

He stood outside her door, heart pounding, hands slightly trembling. The moment he knocked, the door swung open, and there she stood—Mummy. Dressed in a sheer lace robe, black stockings, and heels, she was every inch the goddess he worshipped. Her red lips curled into a knowing smile.

“Come in, baby,” she whispered, stepping aside, allowing him entry into her domain.

As he entered, the familiar scent of jasmine and sandalwood wrapped around him, the very essence of her intoxicating. The room was bathed in candlelight, the glow casting shadows that flickered and danced, setting the perfect stage for what was to come.

She closed the door behind him and leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. “Strip.”

His fingers fumbled slightly in his eagerness, his clothes pooling at his feet as he bared himself to her. Her eyes roamed over his body, her gaze drinking in every inch of him. She stepped closer, her fingertips trailing down his chest, his stomach, stopping just above his hardening cock. He gasped as she traced circles around his navel, teasing, torturing him with her light touch.

“You missed me, didn’t you?” she murmured, her nails scraping lightly down his torso.

“Yes, Mummy,” he breathed, shivering under her touch.

She chuckled softly, pleased with his response. “On your knees.”

Without hesitation, he sank before her, his hands resting on his thighs as he looked up at her with wide, adoring eyes. She cradled his face in her hands, her thumbs stroking his cheeks. Then, slowly, she unfastened the belt of her robe, letting it slip from her shoulders, revealing the lace bra and thong beneath.

“Worship me,” she commanded.

His lips pressed reverently against her thigh, his tongue tracing the delicate fabric of her stockings. She guided him, allowing him to kiss and suck at her skin, his adoration palpable. He inhaled her scent, nuzzling against her warmth, his body aching for more.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him upward. “On the chaise lounge, baby,” she instructed, leading him to the blue velvet chaise that had already seen so many of their pleasures.

He lay back as she straddled him, her hands pressing his wrists down against the cushion. The weight of her on top of him, the heat of her body so close, made him dizzy with need. She ground against him, her wetness soaking through the thin lace, teasing him with what he craved but would not yet be allowed to have.

“You’re so hard for me,” she mused, dragging her nails down his arms, leaving faint red marks in their wake. “So desperate.”

“Yes, Mummy,” he whimpered, shifting beneath her, his cock throbbing between them.

She reached behind her, unclipping her bra, letting her full, heavy breasts spill free. He moaned at the sight, his mouth opening in silent pleading. She chuckled and leaned down, letting her nipple brush against his lips.

“Such a good boy,” she purred as he eagerly took her into his mouth, sucking, licking, savoring the taste of her skin. Her fingers tightened in his hair as she rocked against him, her moans vibrating through her body. His hands remained at his sides, obediently waiting for permission to touch.

She pulled away suddenly, standing before him, her eyes gleaming with intent. From the drawer beside them, she retrieved a length of silk ribbon, wrapping it around his wrists, securing them behind his back. He swallowed hard, the vulnerability of being bound for her sending fresh waves of arousal through him.

She climbed back onto his lap, her fingers wrapping around his cock, stroking slowly, teasing. He moaned, hips lifting toward her touch, but she only tightened her grip, controlling the pace.

“Tell me what you want,” she whispered against his lips.

“You, Mummy,” he gasped. “I want to be inside you.”

She smiled, wicked and indulgent. “Not yet,” she murmured, pressing a single, wet kiss to the head of his cock before sliding down his body, her mouth tracing a path of fire over his skin.

When she finally took him into her mouth, he nearly lost himself. Her tongue swirled, her lips wrapped around him, her nails digging into his thighs as she sucked him deep. He groaned, bound hands clenching into fists as he fought to hold back, to prolong the exquisite torment.

She worked him expertly, alternating between sucking and teasing licks, watching him unravel beneath her touch. She took him to the brink, then pulled away, her lips glistening, her eyes full of mischief.

“Not yet, baby,” she cooed, stroking his cheek. “I decide when you cum.”

He whimpered, but he knew better than to beg. He belonged to her, and she would give him what he needed when she was ready.

She climbed onto him once more, sliding her wetness against his cock, letting him feel just how much she wanted him. He moaned, the friction exquisite torture.

“Are you ready to be inside Mummy?” she asked, her voice thick with desire.

“Yes, Mummy,” he choked out, his body on the edge of madness.

She sank down onto him, taking him in inch by inch, her walls clenching around him, drawing him deeper. He gasped, his body arching as she began to move, slow and deliberate, savoring every moment.

He was lost in her, lost in the way she claimed him, owned him. She rode him with unrelenting control, her hands pressing against his chest, her nails marking him as hers. Every thrust sent him closer, his bound hands twitching, desperate to touch her, to hold her, to worship her fully.

She felt him tensing, his breath hitching, his body trembling beneath her. She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear.

“Cum for Mummy.”

He shattered beneath her command, his release overwhelming, his moans muffled against her neck as she held him close, riding him through the waves of pleasure. She followed soon after, her body shuddering as she claimed her own pleasure, her nails digging into his skin as she moaned his name.

They collapsed together, tangled in each other’s warmth, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.

She kissed his forehead, her hands finally untying the silk ribbon from his wrists. “Good boy,” she whispered, her voice filled with pride and satisfaction. “You belong to me.”

“Yes, Mummy,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut, completely spent, completely hers.

And he would be back, always craving more.