“Wait...what?
No. Shit.” It was a pretty definitive sounding no and when I looked over my shoulder at him, Pat was staring back at me like I’d just uttered something
truly vile. “I didn’t say pull it out,
I just said pull on it,” I directed, tossing my pony tail and aiming a playful smile in his direction,
hoping that he’d follow along, finally.
“But
why?” I could see it in his face, the sort of psychological blockage that is
the result of years of being told not to do something. In Pat’s case it had to
be the result of years of being told not to pull his sister’s pig tails.
“Because
I asked you to?” I suggested hopefully. Pat looked at where my hair had just
slid back down over my shoulder and then his gaze slowly slid back down to my
ass. The same ass that I’d asked him to spank, which he also hadn’t done
“Yeah...but
why?” he looked downright uncomfortable and then he looked at me like I was the
source of that discomfort. It didn’t go long way towards making me feel pretty.
“Because,
Pat! Because I like it like that,
okay? Jesus Pat, it kind of ruins it if you have to ask why every time!” I scrambled away from him and pulled the sheet
with me so that I could pout without being naked. Being vulnerable is one thing
but naked and vulnerable is too much to
ask of anyone.
“I just
don’t get why you want me to do that stuff.” Pat sat at the end of the bed
looking a little bit like that famous statue ‘The Thinker ‘ although Pat looked
more like ‘the pouter’.
“It’s
called foreplay,” I grumbled, exasperated and managing, but only just, not to
add ‘something you obviously don’t understand anything about’ out loud. There
were a lot of things about Pat that I liked, but this part, the bedroom part,
was still not working for us and it wasn’t for a lack of trying.
“No
that’s just fooling around...I’m not...I don’t like all that kinky shit,” he
muttered and as he looked over at me through his eyelashes, there was
consternation in his gaze but there was also fear. Letting my own frustration
leak away, I let go of the sheet and what little protection it afforded and
crawled across the mattress towards him.
“I would
tell you if you were hurting me, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I
offered, wrapping him up with both my arms and my legs while he sat, motionless
and didn’t even make the smallest of attempts to return the affection or accept
the comfort I was trying to impart.
“I like
you, okay? I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t get why you want me to.” Up
until this very point I assumed his conservative tastes in the bedroom had just
been an example of Pat being on his ‘best behavior’. Now I was suddenly having
to face the fact that, despite the fact that there were women on just about
every street corner in the Windy City offering to sleep with him that Pat’s tastes
really did run to Tapioca pudding and no darker or more creative than that.
“I’m
sorry,” I apologized softly and pressed my mouth gently to a pearlescent scar
on his shoulder. “Forget it. I was just playing around,” I added, trying to be
encouraging, to bring him back to me but he only shrugged me off.
“I need
to get some air,” he muttered and ducked out from beneath my grip. Not that I
stopped him going. As if I could.
“Pat...please,”
I sighed. All this time I thought that I’d been trying to do the right thing
and it had only ended up pushing him away.
“Don’t...uh...don’t
worry or wait up or whatever,” Pat said quietly as he pulled his jeans up and
then, while still pulling up the zipper with one hand, he was already texting
with the other; one of his teammates no doubt.
“You
don’t have to go anywhere,” I sighed, gathering the sheet again. Now that he
was dressed I was back to feeling overexposed. I was about to offer to be the
one to leave, after all I was the offender, but Pat shook his head, sending his
golden curls into his eyes.
“You’re ummm fine here,” he
mumbled and then, grabbing his t-shirt from where it was hanging on the inner
handle of the bedroom door, I watched him go.
__________________________________________________________________
It was
like trying to pick just one candy when you’re standing in front of a long
counter full of different sizes and shapes of candy; sour ones, sweet ones, big
ones, small ones, all day suckers and ones that would pop and fizz in your
mouth and be gone in the blink of an eye. Leaning against the counter, watching
the crowd move like a beating heart, trying to pick out just one girl was like
only ever wanting gum; boring and totally impossible.
“What
about the blonde with the bodacious ta-ta’s?” Seabs asked, downing half a pint
of something dark and frothy and then wiping the cream coloured froth from his
lips with the back of his arm. I shook my head. Big tits were nice to look at
but they kind of intimidated me. I didn’t really like something in the room
that, by comparison, made me look smaller.
“What
about that one?” Sharpe tilted his head towards a dark haired Latina beauty
who’d been eyeing all of us since we came in. I didn’t mind a little dark meat,
now and again, but tonight a little spicy heat was not on my menu.
“The
problem, as I see it,” Tazer drawled, staring into the bottom of his beer which
he’d hardly sipped at, “is there’s nothing here that’s better than what he has
at home.” The man was speaking the truth and I tipped my beer up, finishing it
and letting out a loud belch. I did have willing, hot pussy at home but that
didn’t mean that I didn’t want something from the menu tonight.
“Her,” I
pointed to a slim, athletic blonde in one of those barely there backless tops
that was all side boobs and moved like metallic liquid over her tits. I licked
my lips as she flashed her baby blues at me.
“What do
you want that for?” Tazer asked, giving her a glance that was only long enough
to take in that she was female, probably.
“I just
want some...y’know, vanilla,” I replied, and pushed off from the bar. She was giving
me that shy sexy smile, like she wanted me too but she was worried about
leaving her friends. I was a step and a half away when, with one hand, Tazer
hauled me back.
“Whaddaya
mean, vanilla?” Guys around us, not our guys from the team but other guys
stepped back when they saw the look on Tazer’s face when he curled my collar in
his hand and pulled me up onto my toes. Jesus Christ on a bike, the man was
always being the white fucking knight to the rescue even when the chick wasn’t
in the room.
“Dude you
don’t know, okay?” I gave him a hard enough shove and I’m guessing Seabs or
someone else behind me was concerned enough that the big dope let me down but
he didn’t let me go. “She’s not, like, normal,”
I snarled, rolling my shoulders which did nothing to free me from his grasp.
“Then.
What. Are. You. Doing. With. Her?” I could feel the hot wet mist of his spit on
my face and tried to turn my face away, except then I began to strangle in my
own shirt. Lose, lose.
“I like
her, okay?” I growled back at the overgrown ape and this seemed to cool his
jets, for the moment, but I wasn’t fooled. “But man...I don’t even know if
mahogany is even normal or whatever.”
“You mean
monogamy, dumbass,” Sharpie smirked and cuffed the back of my head playfully. I
shrugged.
“Whatever.
I mean, look at everything else in nature, they don’t stick with one chick,” I
pointed out and looked to Seabs for confirmation. He shrugged, shook his head
and returned his attention to the hopping scene in front of us.
“Except
for, y’know, most bird species, wolves...,” Tazer began until I shot him a dark
look.
“Figures
you’d know shit like that, you spend too much time on your own,” I grumbled
back at him. “What I’m trying to say
is that maybe it’s crazy to focus on just one person. Maybe that’s,
like...unnatural or whatever. Maybe what we’re meant to do is share the wealth,
y’know?”
“Offf cooooouuurssse
the leopard never changes his spots.” It didn’t surprise me that Jon turned on
me but the look of disappointment on Sharpie’s face stole my buzz.
“You
don’t get it. She’s fucking with my head, okay? Anyway, it’s none of your
business,” I snapped at both of them.
“Hey, I
think what Tazer’s trying to remind you is that you like the girl, maybe you
just need to cool off. We can grab a slice somewhere...,” Seabs offered but I
cut him off with a roll of my eyes.
“No, he’s
on his fucking high horse,” I snarled, aiming a dark look towards Captain Know
It All.
“Hey man,
all you had to say is you couldn’t keep her satisfied all by yourself and I’d
have come over.” Carbomb was trying to lighten the mood and, I think, was kind
of bummed that we were dumping all over his buzz. I gave him a smile and a pat
on his back.
“I’ll try
and remember that next time.”
“Yeah,
like she’ll still be around if you don’t go home right now.” I turned and
glared at Jon who stared back at me like he knew something I didn’t, kind of
like he does most of the time.
“Whatever.
You guys do whatever. I’m gonna get me some. You girls go change your tampons.”
Sharpie looked shocked when I snapped at them. Jon just smiled smugly back at
me.
“You go for it champ. Your
fucking loss buddy.” I flipped him the bird and then turned and started to wade
into the heaving mass of bodies.
___________________________________________________________
I’d had
to be there when he’d imploded. I’d known the minute Seabs had texted to tell
me that Pat had dragged him and Carbomb out to a club in the middle of the
week. The little guy had been steadily heading for the edge of the cliff but it
was kind of a surprise that it wasn’t me that had pushed him off the cliff.
It was
her.
The read
headed vixen had driven him out into the night looking for straight up
missionary. It was hard for me to understand how a guy that ran around looking
for pussy as much as Kaner had since I’d known him could be that afraid of a
little kinky fuckery. Of course most of the time either he was gooned to the
gills, the girl was or, and this was far more likely, both that he probably
hadn’t had much of a chance to experience more than the most basic,
straightforward automatic action.
That and
the poor kid didn’t have any imagination to speak of.
I was
still shaking my head over it as the heavy mechanical doors of the elevator
opened on my floor and I saw her kneeling on the mat in front of the doors to
my place, head down. Her hair was pulled back into a simple braid that lay
between her shoulder blades like an invitation saying ‘lead me’.
It had
crossed my mind to go past Kaner’s place. After all it was only a block down
from mine but from the moment I’d seen her I’d known it would have to be like
this. She would have to come to me.
I
wondered as I crossed the hallway and reached over to put my key in the lock how she’d gotten in
but answers to those and other mundane questions like what kinky play had sent
Pat screaming from the house tonight could wait until later. Now I wanted to
know what was under the sleek black trench she was wearing, besides the very
high heeled boots that I found myself looking at as I pushed the door open.
“Go inside,” I told her simply,
stepping aside as she stood without my aid, “take off your coat, then wait for
me.” I wanted to know what was under the jacket but after locking the door I
forced myself to go straight down the hallway. I had preparations to make
before I was ready for her.
___________________________________________________________
Floor to
ceiling windows let in the Chicago night, lights from other buildings and the
streets below lent a kind of glow to the otherwise darkened room. A man’s
living room complete with dark leather furniture, a wide screen that covered
half a wall and a few reminders that, at least inside, Captain Serious was
still a boy, an Xbox 360 was plugged in and games were strewn across a glass
coffee table.
I took
off my jacket and hung it up on a stand and then knelt in front of that glass
table and glared at my reflection. Had I given up too easily, given in to Jon’s
dark charms too readily? I was angry but it wasn’t that seething anger that had
driven me to his door. It wasn’t even the almost certain knowledge that Pat
would not be coming home to find me gone.
I wanted
this, maybe even needed it.
I had
thought I could teach Pat, that he would learn but tonight when he’d run from
something as simple as pulling my hair while fucking me from behind I’d finally
realized that I was wrong, that it wasn’t simply a lack of knowledge, it was a
lack of desire. I’d felt desire uncoil within me the moment I’d heard Jon’s
voice tonight. It felt like a bear just waking from a long winter’s nap slowly
getting to her feet and shaking off the cobwebs.
“I
usually prefer a preset time to a meeting but I will forgive you, this once.” I
did my best not to smile as I felt the palm of his hand stroke down over the
back of my head and then down my braid. “I also prefer to have an agreement in
place, rules agreed to beforehand,” he continued, slowly winding my braid
around his hand before he finally yanked down on it, hard, forcing my head back
so I had no choice but look up at him and into his espresso coloured eyes.
“Maybe tonight there will be no limits,” he said quietly as his dark gaze travelled
over my face and down to my cleavage, my breasts cupped in a tight black and
purple lace corset. I didn’t argue. I felt like I’d been holding myself wound
up as tight as a jack in the box waiting to be sprung by the last note of music
for too long. “Give me your word,” he hissed. I licked my lips.
“I prefer
to use the stoplight,” I whispered. His crooked grin appeared and he tipped his
head to the side as he considered those words.
“I’m not
sure I believe in yellow, or do you prefer amber?” he asked, the knuckles of
his free hand caressing my cheek.
“Sometimes
slower is...nicer,” I whispered, my eyes fluttering closed. I could feel his
caress on my cheek as if it was between my thighs and I shuddered. He made a
noncommittal noise and then I felt his grip on my braid loosen.
“Go to
the playroom, pick your poison...to begin with anyway.” I got to my feet slowly
and turned, head and eyes down as I passed him, walking slowly in the direction
from which he’d reappeared. I glanced sideways at the pale flesh I could see
out of the corner of my eye. He had taken off his shirt and even in the near
dark of his living room I could see how cut he was, how lean and muscular. I
flexed my fingers at my sides. There were miles of sculpted flesh to explore,
but a sub does not touch her dom without his permission, ever.
There was
only one room with a light on in it and I guessed this was where he wanted me
to go. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek as I turned into a room
dominated by an enormous green ping pong table. I stopped just inside of the
room, not sure where to go.
Jon
walked by me, folded one side of the table up and pushed it against the wall.
Fastened to the underside of the table were two different sets of restraints
and I heard the distinctive ‘click’ of buckles being opened before he turned
and beckoned me forward.
“I’m
going to take your panties off,” he told me, his voice deep and husky in my
ear. As much as I wanted to watch him move around me, I kept my gaze forward as
he moved around behind me and slid his fingers beneath the edge of the black
satin. I felt the warmth of his skin against mine as he slowly dragged my
panties down over my ass, down my thighs to my knees right above the top of my
boots. “Hmmm, I like it like that,” he said as if he were talking to himself
and not to me. “Up.” I stared at the table in front of me and felt the fabric
stretched thin between my legs and frowned. I tried raising one leg knew I
looked like a duck out of water. With a hand on either side of my waist he lifted
me with ease onto the table and onto my knees. “Hands,” he moved along side of
the table and led both of my wrists into a leather cuff which he pulled tight.
Not tight enough to hurt but tight enough to make it clear that there would be
no wiggling free. He ran the back of his hand thoughtfully along my arm and we
both watched goosebumps race ahead of his touch. “Green?” he asked with a
meaningful glance up at the restraint holding both of my wrists just above my
head.
“Green,”
I agreed.
I lost
sight of him as he moved behind me, but I felt his hand trail down over my
shoulder and down my back. I tensed, expecting a firm slap on my ass but
instead the back of his hand continued to slide down the outside of my thigh
and down to my boots.
“I like
these,” he said quietly, the palm of his hand running over the black leather
covering my calf, “you should wear these more often,” he added as the palm of
his hand slid over my heel and suddenly tugged on the metal spike of the actual
heel of the boot, forcing my legs further apart and the elastic of my panties
to bite into my flesh.
I heard
his self satisfied chuckle right before I heard the metallic snap of handcuffs
locking around my ankles. I glanced over my shoulder at him. He was enjoying
the view, his gaze locked on my ass and my pussy while his hand stroked along
the stiff leather of the riding crop I’d picked up from the toy chest just
inside the door. I watched his palm stroke along it’s dark tanned length and
felt my mouth go dry.
As if he
was reading my mind with a snap of his wrist he cracked the crop against the
edge of the table, just shy of my ankle. The sound alone made all of my muscles
clench and I shuddered in anticipation.
“Green?”
he repeated, running the soft, flexible ‘stinger’ end of the crop up the inside
of one of my thighs.
“Green,”
I gasped as he dragged that ‘stinger’ over my pussy lips. His deeply dark gaze
held mine as he brought that stinger down on my ass. I gasped. He smiled.
“Green,” I repeated and his grin grew by inches every time he brought that crop
down on my ass, sending short, sharp shockwaves right through me.
Between each
stroke he toyed with me, gently stroking the soft end of the crop over my now
aching pussy lips but always just short of that spot that could have given me
release. Each stroke got a little harder, took me closer to the edge of pain,
but each gentle stroke between was just enough to take the edge off.
He knew
exactly what he was doing.
He
crossed each stroke so that the pain was spread out, so that it was never too
intense in the same place. He teased me slowly, bringing me closer and closer
to the edge without letting me get all the way there. I was gasping, whimpering
when I felt his hands suddenly spreading my ass cheeks apart and his tongue
diving deep into my pussy.
I
screamed his name and nearly pulled my arms out of their sockets dragging down
hard on the restraints around my wrists. I could hear the chains on the cuffs
dragging across the table as I shifted, trying to guide him but then his hands
locked over my calves and he held me down.
“Yellow,”
I hissed. I felt his grip ease up and his then his tongue lapped slowly upwards
until, finally, I felt his tongue swirl slowly around my pearl. My entire body
went slack and I groaned.
I felt
his fingers slide inside of me, and felt the full strength of him behind them,
throwing my body forward, pulling down hard on the restraints. He fucked me
hard with two fingers while rolling my clit between two fingers of his other
hand until I was teetering, windmilling on the precipice, my eyes squeezed
shut, panting, gasping for air, and then he withdrew.
I
whimpered like a kicked puppy. I hung there in my restraints, unable to give
myself relief, feeling the blood still pooling in my aching pussy, now cooling,
almost painful and then there was the snap of the crop across the backs of my
thighs.. My head tilted back and I screamed.
“Yellow?”
he asked, his hand sliding between my thighs, slowly, gently massaging my clit
until I was panting again.
“Green,”
I gasped. His hand withdrew and I felt the sting of the crop again, this time
right across my ass so I could feel the current of air across my entrance. I
moaned out loud, the moan growing longer and deepening as he shoved his thumb
inside of me and slid the pad of his middle finger over my clit.
“Still
green?” he asked and my only reply was to nod. Yes, more of this. I wanted more
of this, needed it.
I heard
him chuckle and then felt the sting of the flat of his palm on my ass. I
grunted, teeth clenched together and then mewed like a newborn kitten as his
hand slid around until his fingers brushed lightly over my clit.
“I could
bring you now,” he whispered before pressing his lips softly against my
shoulder blade as if he was the most tender, the most affectionate of lovers, “but
I won’t. Do you know why?” I shook my head, gasping as he pressed his
fingertips up against my clit, rotating in tight, hard circles that were
bringing me so close. “You haven’t earned it. You’re only here because he is
out playing. When the cat’s away hmmmm my little mouse?” I shook my head but I
didn’t breathe life into the lie. It wasn’t the only reason that I was here but
it was certainly one of the reasons. “I forbid you from touching yourself until
I see you again,” he breathed, his voice warm and low in my ear. “That means no
fingers, no toys, no shower wands...no
release until I give it to you, do you understand?” he asked, his free hand now
toying with my braid and when he asked the question he pulled down on it,
forcing me to turn my head and look at him. I stared at intently at his mouth.
I was so close I knew that if he kissed me I would cum, then and there,. Reading
it on my face or in my eyes he withdrew again, licking his fingers clean while
holding my gaze. “Mmm, I knew you would taste sensational. Does he tell you
that? That you taste like poire belle Hélène?” I blinked at him. It was on the
tip of my tongue to tell him that Pat could barely find his way around down there
with a roadmap, a compass and a flashlight but suddenly it felt disloyal to
even speak of him so I pressed my lips together and kept my opinions to myself.
“You’ll go back to his place now and when he comes home with his tail between
his legs you’ll tell him that you’re mine now and then...well then we’ll see
about...this.” He slid one, long, finger inside of me and I groaned like a two
dollar crack whore.
I couldn’t
argue. As he undid my restraints and helped me off the table I said nothing. Even
as he pulled my panties up while I leaned heavily against him for support I
didn’t say one word in either complaint or self defence. I had given myself to
him. I had no right to speak.
As he helped
me into my jacket I felt tears begin to build in my eyes. I had betrayed Pat. I
could have gone to almost any of his teammates and it would have hurt him less
and the smug, self satisfied look on Jon’s face as he did up the last button on
the jacket told me he knew it too.
“We’re
horrible people,” I whispered. Jon looked up at me and for the first time his
gaze warmed into something that was nearly a human emotion.
“We are who we are,” he said
softly and then cupped my cheek in his big hand. “He is who he is and if he was
enough for you, you wouldn’t be here.” I blinked, words failing me as the absolute
truth of his words sunk in. Then, with an almost apologetic smile, he lowered his
lips to brush them tenderly over mine. “I’ll call you a cab,” he whispered and
his hand lingered on my cheek long enough that I thought he might actually ask
me to stay and then he turned and reached for his phone which was beside his
keys in a wooden bowl near the door and I was left to stare at the mile wide
expanse of his back while he arranged for me to be delivered back to his
teammates home like an unwanted gift being unceremoniously returned.
