“Maybe you two could play with her nipples with your hands while I fuck her,” I say, my voice light. There’s no reason to be stern, because what guy would resist playing with Ivy’s sensitive nipples after she’s just given him a world-class hand job?
I shift so I’m between her legs, holding my cock right at her entrance. As each man slips off a clamp, I slide into her tight pussy. Usually when she’s not tied up, she wraps her legs around me, but there’s something even more exciting about feeling her strain to embrace me like that but not be able to. I push her thighs down with my hands, splaying her open for me while the men pinch and stroke her nubs. “You can lick them, suck them, bite them even, if you want,” I say, before shifting one hand so I can press a thumb down hard against her clit.
Now Ivy closes her eyes, too overwhelmed by the sensations rocketing through her. I can always tell when she’s getting close to coming, whether she tells me verbally or not. Her trembling thighs are telling me, the lips suckling her nipples are telling me, her head tossing back and forth is telling me, and most of all, her pussy tightening so much is telling me. I pull all the way out, then slam roughly back inside, until I can’t control myself. I pinch Ivy’s inner thigh while pressing my circling thumb harder against her clit until I feel her orgasm as strongly as if it were my own. Which happens moments later as I release a torrent of cream inside her. She opens and closes her hands, as if needing something to squeeze besides my cock. Sam and Brendan notice, and quickly shift their attention to her fingers, sucking on them as she and I both finish coming.
When I finally pull out and look at her, there are tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. “Until next time, gentlemen,” I tell them, and they smile before leaving the room. There will definitely be a next time.
When we’re alone, I say, “What a day,” my eyes fixed on hers, a smile on my face and in my voice. The smile she gives me lets me know that her hard day was worth every second of her rough reward.
SAFE SEX
Violet R. Jones
Janet ran her tongue along Tommy’s neck. She tasted sweat and soap. She felt good in his arms, crushed against his firm young body. She felt like something was going to happen. Finally. Her hand slid up his thigh.
Janet watched a hairbrush fly off her nightstand and skid across the bedroom. Janet tried to pretend she didn’t notice. Maybe Tommy wouldn’t notice either. Then the nightstand started to shake.
“Wait. Stop. I can feel something,” Tommy said.
No such luck. Janet slid back. Her hands dropped to her sides.
“You’re supposed to feel something,” Janet teased. Janet teased, but she didn’t try anything. Tommy cared enough for her to trust her with his secret. She wanted to prove, as much to herself as to Tommy, that she deserved it.
“Not funny. I can’t control it,” Tommy said. His pretty face looked as disappointed as she felt. “I could hurt you.”
Janet’s fingertips brushed against Tommy’s smooth cheek. “I trust you.”
Tommy shook his head. He didn’t say that he didn’t trust himself. He didn’t need to. “When you touch me, I get too excited.”
“All right. What if you were in control?”
Tommy looked confused. “Of my telek—?”
“Of me,” Janet said. “You can control me.”
Tommy’s voice came out as a soft croak. “I—? What—?”
“You’re afraid of getting too excited, and doing something that hurts me, right? Well, you could tie me up.” Janet smiled. She leaned back on the bed, giving Tommy a good view of her half-naked body. “You’d be in control of what happens.”
“You’d let me do that?” Tommy asked.
“I’d enjoy that,” Janet said.
Red spots painted Tommy’s cheeks. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, but she could tell he was listening.
“So . . . should we get some rope?” Janet asked, nudging him with her foot.
“I don’t need ropes to tie you up,” Tommy said.
Janet felt gooseflesh rise on her arms. There was a shift in the air, like before a big storm. Something wrapped tightly around her wrist. It felt solid as steel, but flexible.
“Is this all right?” Tommy asked.
“More than all right,” Janet answered.
Janet let out a small gasp. She felt her other hand being grabbed and drawn back. She couldn’t see it. She never could when Tommy used his powers. “You’re . . . you seem to be in control of it right now,” Janet said.
“I’m concentrating,” Tommy answered. “Don’t talk too much. You could distract me.”
Janet really didn’t want to say anything, although it struck her as a little funny that Tommy was worried about her distracting him by talking when she lay in front of him with her blouse open and her skirt hiked up to her thighs.
Janet felt herself being pulled up the bed. She started to follow the motion, scooting backward. Then Tommy did something, and she could barely move. Her body went limp as a rag doll. It was almost as if her body were not her own.
Janet thought that she ought to be terrified, but she wasn’t. Whenever she had been in bed with a man, she had always been in complete control. And she loved it. She loved feeling the power that she had over men.
But she trusted Tommy. Tommy was special in ways that had nothing to do with his telekinesis. Not only could Janet give up control with Tommy, she could enjoy it. She wanted him to have power over her, completely.
Janet caught Tommy studying her expression. She made an inquisitive sound.
“If anything happens that you don’t like, you’d say something, right?”
“I’d say something,” Janet agreed. Her voice sounded lighter. Breathier.
“Good,” Tommy said.
Janet felt herself being lifted, and her skirt was pushed up to her torso. God, was she—? She was able to turn her head to look down. She was hovering above the bed, floating on air. She tried to flex her wrists to test the bonds. She could move, but only a little. She was as weak as a kitten, and the telekinetic bonds felt immovable.
Janet felt her panties being pulled down. She looked back at Tommy. He was still on the other side of the bed.
“Use your hands,” she insisted.
Tommy shivered, but he scooted up the bed. He licked his lips. He reached out and slid down Janet’s red panties.
The panties didn’t make a sound as they hit the bed but Janet could hear Tommy’s breathing. “Is this your first—?”
“Yes,” Tommy said before she could finish the question.
His powers, Janet thought. Tommy was sweet and shy, but he was also handsome and sociable and almost twenty-one. This would not be his first time if not for his powers. She didn’t know whether she felt more sad for him having to hold himself back, or just grateful to be his first.
Tommy’s power was not simply holding her up or holding her arms bound anymore. It was caressing her. She felt it massaging the small muscles at the back of her neck and stroking her breasts and belly. She felt it caressing her thighs and the backs of her knees. It felt like being worshipped by unseen gods.
“Can you feel with your powers?” Janet asked, hoping that Tommy would be able to understand what she meant. She wondered why it had never occurred to her to ask before.
“Yes,” Tommy said. “Not the same as if I touch something with my hands, but in some ways, it’s . . . more. Can I . . . ?”
“Yes,” Janet said.
She’d expected him to use his powers again. Instead, he crawled forward on his knees, spread her thighs, and placed his head between them. She expected Tommy to be tentative or uncertain. He spread her with his fingers. She could feel him admiring her. Then he leaned forward to lick and suck the nub of her clit.
“Oh god . . .” Janet’s voice sounded weak. A shudder moved through her entire body.
Tommy raised his head. “I felt that. I liked it.”
I did too, Janet would have teased. Would have, but didn’t. She was t
oo occupied with feeling good for her usual teasing jokes.
Tommy made a satisfied sound and lowered his head again. Janet felt Tommy’s tongue move lower. She cried out when his tongue slid inside her. He hesitated. “Don’t stop!” Janet wanted to reach out and grab him by his hair, but her arms were still bound.
Tommy didn’t stop. Tommy slowly fucked her with his tongue.
The way Tommy’s power moved over her body made Janet more aware of her own flesh. Her body tingled. It felt like being in bed with six lovers, except there were not five other men that Janet trusted as much as she trusted Tommy.
The first orgasm caught her by surprise. Her head rolled back, rocking against the empty air. Tremors ran through her body. She felt Tommy’s power stroking her back and stroking her hair as if he meant to comfort her. Janet realized there were tears in her eyes.
Janet felt her body laid reverently against the bed. She could move again. Her arms were free. They ached as feeling came back to them.
“Are you all right?” Tommy asked. He moved cautiously up the bed in a way that reminded her somehow of a cat stalking a mouse.
Janet didn’t trust her voice, so she nodded. Tommy leaned close to kiss her. She tasted herself on his lips.
“You’re crying,” Tommy said. His voice was soft with concern. He took her up in his arms. “Do you want to—?”
“No,” Janet croaked. She tried again. “I don’t want to stop. I like it. I like all of it. Maybe too much.”
Tommy stroked her hair. He was silent for a few moments before he asked, “Aren’t you supposed to like it?”
Janet laughed at Tommy’s baffled grin.
His nose wrinkled. He didn’t like being laughed at.
Janet kissed him gently. “I am. It’s good. Really. I don’t want to stop.” Janet looked down at the bulge in Tommy’s jeans, and back at his eyes. “I want you to feel good too.”
Janet’s headboard shook but didn’t break. She did not look at it. She did not look away from Tommy. She could see that he wanted her, but she didn’t know if he would still think it was too dangerous.
“You’ll have to let me—”
“Anything,” Janet said.
“—hold you again,” Tommy said. “And turn around. I don’t think I could look at you and . . . I think I would get too excited.”
Janet lay a gentle kiss on Tommy’s lips. She stripped off her blouse, bra, and skirt. Tommy’s eyes never looked away from her. He seemed completely entranced. Then she turned around.
Janet was pulled forward again. Her hands were pressed against the wall. She could not move them. She was held more firmly than if she were locked in stocks. Behind her, she could hear the sound of Tommy’s zipper going down. He was undressing. She tried to turn her head to look, but couldn’t.
“Let me see you,” Janet demanded.
Tommy let her turn her head. He moved closer so that she could see him better. Tommy was not looking at her. He was shyly looking away. His body was lean and muscular and perfect, just like she’d known he would be. Now that she’d looked, she wanted to touch. But she didn’t want to scare him off.
“You’re perfect,” Janet said.
Tommy scoffed.
She said it again.
“Thank you,” Tommy said. He still didn’t sound like he believed her. “Can I . . . ?”
“Yes.”
“With my talent?”
“Yes.”
Janet felt Tommy’s power toying with her clit, while at the same time it filled her inside. His power filled her perfectly, neither too small nor too big. Then it started to move.
Janet’s hips rocked into the thrusts. She could not move her arms or her legs, but she could do that much. She could hear herself babbling. “So good . . . Tommy . . . I love . . .” But she could not stop. Distantly, she heard the sound of breaking glass as the bedroom window smashed, but Janet was beyond caring. Her second orgasm rolled into her third. Then the only thing holding Janet up was Tommy’s power.
Janet felt her arms being released. She sobbed quietly. It was the sound of loss. Being bound by his power hadn’t felt as much like being restrained as being held. It felt like being secure and safe and . . . loved.
Tommy’s power gathered her up as easily as if she were weightless. Her body was drawn close to his. “Are you sure that you’re okay?” Tommy asked.
“No . . . I’m better than okay,” Janet said. She stroked her hand down Tommy’s arm. “You didn’t . . . ?” Janet had been too caught up to realize that he had used his power instead of his dick.
“I didn’t what?”
“. . . come.” Janet couldn’t bring herself to say it. Tommy might think he had done something wrong, and he hadn’t. He really, really hadn’t.
“I did,” Tommy said. He blushed. After all that, he blushed! “I broke your window. I-I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry! You can break all the windows you want,” Janet said, laughing. She tangled her fingers in his hair, kissed his lips, and trailed kisses along his jaw.
“I just want you to feel good too,” Janet said, sighing. She pressed a kiss to his neck. Tommy let Janet push him back against the bed.
“I do,” Tommy said. “I felt all of it. And it was easier to . . . to control everything than I thought.”
“Good,” Janet said. She curled her body against his. Janet luxuriated in the feeling of his skin against hers. He’d made her wait for so long.
“In fact, I think we could . . . I’d like to . . .”
“Yes,” Janet said, pressing her finger to Tommy’s lips. “Whatever it is, yes.”
Tommy’s power brushed her finger away. “We’d still have to be careful.”
“Of course,” Janet said, with fake solemnity. She was too giddy to feel solemn. Janet wasn’t sure what Tommy meant by careful, but she was certain that Tommy’s version of safe sex would never be boring.
HOLD ON HARDER
Dena Hankins
Carrie pulled the bar stool out and stood ready to help Laura into the seat. Laura’s catlike leap would have made that seem ridiculously unnecessary, but Carrie knew how swollen Laura’s asscheeks were. Sure enough, as soon as Laura hit the hard wood of the seat, she nearly tipped over.
Carrie caught Laura with an arm across her chest, sash-wise. Either Tyler’s low laugh or Carrie’s arm struck a nerve, because Laura’s responsive nipples tented the soft, ancient ALCOHOL FUNNYCAR band shirt she’d pulled on, braless.
Laura settled more gingerly in the tall, ladder-backed chair and Carrie released her with an unsubtle swipe across her hard nipples. Laura laughed with Tyler, then, and said, “What part of ‘oversensitized’ did you not understand?”
Carrie adopted an innocent expression and reared back in an ostentatious shrug. Her playful move knocked her into the young man on the next stool over and she turned, hands raised to placate. “Sorry, there. I’ll try to keep my shoulder blades to myself.”
The pub clacked and throbbed, busy for a weeknight. People orbited both pool tables and massed across from the dartboard, drinks in hand or placed on handy ledges. Casual dress reigned, but a few die-hard femmes had done it up. Carrie appreciated the college-radio rock’s volume—loud enough to let her ignore outsider conversations but quiet enough that she didn’t have to shout.
The young man she’d bumped gave an eye roll that had his whole head sweeping in a circle. He’d been typing on the keyboard-slash-cover of a tablet when they’d walked up to claim the last stool for Laura, a heavy book open in his lap and the expression of someone being swarmed by mosquitoes.
“Sugar, you are far from the most irritating part of this evening.” His words came slowly and he reached for the glass of something amber next to his tablet.
Carrie wondered, bemused, if that could be construed as an invitation to talk. His drama-infused personal style piqued her sense of fun, so she took a chance. “Tell Mama all about it, hon.”
“I’m trying to study,” he began, and Carr
ie cordially prepared to leave him to it. “But you wouldn’t believe the noises from the apartment above me.”
Carrie waited a beat, then said, “Must have been bad if the pub seemed a better option.”
Laura’s small hand hooked in the waistband of Carrie’s jeans. The backs of her soft fingers slid against the sensitive skin of Carrie’s lower back. A shiver distracted Carrie from the first part of the young man’s plaintive response. She tuned back in to him saying, “ . . . smacks and groans . . .”
“Wait, what?” Carrie struggled for a mildly interested look, but her face flamed.
“I swear, there were at least three people, maybe more, and I don’t know what all they were getting into, but I kept hearing one woman laugh while another chanted, ‘Hold on harder! Hold on harder!’”
Carrie stopped breathing and fresh, intense memories spun around her.
“Harder, harder, hold on harder!” Laura sang the words to a nursery rhyme rhythm. Carrie couldn’t help laughing at the frustration on Tyler’s face.
Laura squirmed in her human bondage. Her small tits moved independently of her straining pecs and her nudity revealed all the long, lean muscles of her dynamic body. All three lovers were bare-assed naked, trying a new idea hatched by Laura and refined by Carrie.
Tyler lay on his back among disordered sheets, one of Laura’s wrists in each of his big hands, her back to his front, his lower legs wrapped around to pull her knees wide open. Carrie stood over them both, distracted from the delightful expanse of Laura’s tender inner thighs.
Carrie couldn’t see whether Laura’s teasing had affected Tyler’s hard-on, but he certainly looked more irritated than titillated. He was plenty strong enough to keep Laura from escaping, but she used all the wiggle room she had in loops and swipes of her hips and shoulders.
Carrie’s amusement at Laura’s antics tipped toward impatience. She raised an eyebrow at Tyler, whose face had reddened from exertion. His job—keeping Laura spread-eagle while Carrie teased and treated her—was turning out to be more difficult than he’d thought, Carrie supposed, but Carrie wasn’t getting what she’d negotiated for out of this. Something had to change.
Best Bondage Erotica of the Year Page 18