Pierre was a wonderful lover but she wanted something... more. But what it was she didn't quite know and probably wouldn't understand until she got it. Or it got her. Shari took the Metro back home and started dinner. Tonight, she decided for something more continental and prepared a risotto and grilled chicken breasts.
Shari dressed in her new outfit from Demonica, and this time the garment was covered by a sky-blue terry cloth bathrobe patterned with clouds. She was covered from her neck to ankles as she didn't want any hint of the garment to be alluded to through the cover-up. When Pierre came inside the house, she greeted him with a kiss and a glass of wine. They ate in silence, and Pierre seemed to be grateful that she was demurely attired. Well, it was too bad, he would be shocked tonight.
When dinner was finished, Shari put plan B into action.
"Pierre, will you help me with something? I lost one of my solitaire earrings last night and I haven't been able to find it."
"Oh, I can. Just give me a minute or two to finish my drink." Pierre slugged back the last dregs of his glass and went into the bedroom.
Shari waited until Pierre looked under the bed and found the earring with a single peek under the frame. He smiled crookedly and held it out to her.
"Will you put it on for me?" She asked as if he didn't know what he wanted.
"I will with pleasure, Shari." He walked toward her but she motioned for him to lie down. "So that’s your game?"
"Maybe, Pierre. You won't find out until do as I ask." He smiled, just a bit devilishly and Shari saw a glimpse of what she wanted in his eyes. But he began to do what was requested and took off his shoes first, left loafer then the right one hit the carpet with a soft thud.
"The rest please." Pierre just arched an imperious brow at his wife’s request. But he continued, unbuttoned his grey slacks only to fold them before he left them on chaise beside the window.
His dress shirt followed the slacks, socks toed off next, then finally his white boxer briefs. When he was fully nude Shari let her eyes roam the exposed skin and there was just a touch of olive tan to hint at his Mediterranean parentage. The dick facing her was turgid, half-hard and rising fast. She watched him lay down face up, eyes slightly wary, but mostly curious. Shari climbed on the bed and straddled her husband at the waist. She carefully tucked the robe beneath her to keep him from feeling the buckles on her outfit through the terry cloth as she took her seat.
Shari leaned over and allowed him to fasten the earring. When he was done she slid her hands up his arm and pressed his hands to the wrought iron of the head board. Pierre seemed to freeze the moment she clasped his fingers around the rails. But gamely he held on. Shari rewarded him with a hot lick up his wrist to the crescent of exposed palm. He flinched as if struck with a blunt object and groaned slightly.
Here was the crucial part of the plan. She had to be quicker than greased lightning to make this work. Shari continued her teases over his skin with her tongue. She found his elbow creases and the concave definition along his biceps. When he was distracted with her caresses, Shari sprang into action. She snapped a handcuff that she looped through the headboard earlier around each wrist. Pierre reared forward and Shari scurried off his lap.
"Shari! Let me go!" Pierre’s body flailed out and shook the headboard violently.
"Nope, not right now. I know the cuffs aren't that uncomfortable. They're fur lined, so..."
"Since when do you think that I would like this Sharisse? What gave you that inkling?" Shari knew he was infuriated, his accent was thickening. If he got to the point of boiling over, he'd speak a hodge podge of French and Italian. She'd only heard him sound that way once before and the thick syllables made her just as wet now as it did that day. Shari took the belt on the robe and pulled the free tail end of the bow. She saw Pierre’s eyes widen when he took in the view.
"Merde!" Pierre cursed when he caught the first glimpse of her new clothes.
There wasn’t much to see yet, just a strip of black leather, shiny silver buckles and his cock seemed ready to split open, he was so engorged with blood.
Bingo, Shari thought.
"Let me go Shari." Pierre’s voice was pitched low, and contained more gravel than a country driveway.
"No Pierre, not just yet." She saw him flinch, but Shari still allowed the robe to slip to the floor.
The look he gave her as she disrobed was enough to terrify her. But even with the sense of trepidation she was dripping below. So she gave herself the reminder that he was unable to touch her or retaliate at the moment and Shari continued towards Pierre as he waited in bed. He was nowhere near calm in his bound state, but what could he do to her until she released him? Nothing, so she kept on, even as her knees knocked and her intuition screamed for her to run away. Not just run, but to flee as fast as her legs could carry her.
"What are you afraid of Sharisse? That you might like what I'm going to do with you?" Pierre's accent was thick and haughty, so quintessentially French. It was almost as if her husband had been taken over by a cocky bastard. He was normally so mild mannered, polite to the hilt and a gentleman at the core. But this man was unknown to her. She had never seen him... so domineering.
"That's right Sharisse, dominant, how did you ever guess?"
Shari gasped. Damn, she didn't realize she actually said that out loud.
****
Pierre’s eyes bulged when he caught sight of the full outfit. Of all things to wear, his wife would choose a bondage garment. The leather bustier was made with a built in crotch that covered the slit of her mound only. There were no bra cups, and her heavy breasts hung free, their only adornment was a set of tassels that clamped around her nipples. The constraint bustier rode beneath, then between her breasts, to finish with a collar at the neck. How in the hell did he not see that collar at least? Even if the rest was under a sack of a bath robe, he should have seen something, anything to clue him in.
Her arms were wrapped with fingerless gloves and featured numerous buckle fastenings and D rings. While he mused, Shari had slipped on a pair of black high heeled shoes and sauntered to him, hips overtly seductive with their pendulum tick-tock upon each step. When I get free, Pierre thought, I will show you what you have begged for. His mind raced as ago-old fantasies haunted him, how did she know? No matter, as of a moment ago, she had started the countdown to her punishment. When Pierre rotated his hands in the restraint, he noted one crucial fact. The handcuffs were play ones and had a release. She may have gone into a fetish shop for the outfit, but she went somewhere else first. Otherwise, the cuffs would be real and only accessible by key, not novelty ones.
Pierre meant for Shari to see the smile cross his face, and the intent in the kink of lips was nothing less than 100% wicked. If this was the man she wanted to see, she would get her wish. Who was he to disappoint his wife? She smiled back at him, and the look in her eyes was one of innocent seduction, as if her mind were still chaste even if her body was no longer. But after tonight, she would wear a different visage and carry the knowledge of Eve when he was done with his naughty wife.
Pierre leaned back using the headboard for leverage and shuffled until he was upright. He needed more space to maneuver his hands and trigger the release mechanism out of his prey’s view.
"How did you get it on?" He had to know. The bustier was full of buckles from back to front, and the style usually required an outside pair of hands to get the fit correct, especially for a bondage novice.
"I put it on three times, the first two were used to adjust the back and side buckles. The last adjustment was for the front. The back was tricky though." Shari smiled and he appreciated the effort it took for one not used to the style to operate the fasteners. She stunned him, amazed him and he planned to make sure that her efforts at beautification didn’t go to waste.
Pierre smiled widely and he could feel that this time it was a Cheshire cat grin, curve of his mouth that of the cat who caught the rat. Moments later the cuffs were unlatched, and he decid
ed to let Shari come closer before he would spring into action.
Pierre watched his wife and let the hunger she spawned bleed into the unabashed ogle in his eyes. Her body language was now one of crippled fear, like she teased a tiger in its cage and all the while uncertain of the lock on the creature’s door. He felt her tremble slightly, and he knew that she had bitten off more than she could chew. Although that was alright with him, he’d make sure to help her swallow it. He felt just that potent and dangerous, as if his wife infected him with infuriated lust.
When she reached out to touch him, her hand shook. Pierre watched her, eyes lidded low. He smirked at the quaking fingers and licked his lips.
"You should let me go Sharisse and we can pretend it never happened." Pierre was curious as to how she would react. It didn't matter, either way she was going to receive a healthy punishment tonight. When he was done, he would fuck her brains out. Then she would know what she truly asked for. She may be frightened now, but he fully planned to blow her mind tonight.
But he guessed that the wet leather crotch of the bustier refused to let her set him free, and forced her to concede the shred of self-control she had left to the silken slide over her intimate flesh. Shari only shook her head no and he would bet money her throat was a dry well, every drop of moisture leaked copiously down below.
"You shouldn't have refused me. That will only make your punishment worse."
“Punishment? Who said anything about that?”
But Pierre meant every word. When her fingers stoked his face, he let her and watched each caress from his jaw to his neck. When her fingers met his shoulder, he pounced. Shari screamed and backpedaled away from the bed, but it was too late for her. And too late for him to turn back. Sharisse set their course with her actions and now he would take over.
Shari shuddered as if petrified, and he discovered that liked her backed into a corner metaphorically and physically. Pierre easily stalked her from one side of the room to the other, he was more than happy to let her backpedal until she completely trapped herself. He looked down at her and groaned at how her juices escaped the leather that barely bound the liquid against her snatch. He saw the slick slide of beaded arousal nearly reach her knocking knees and Pierre shook his head slightly.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, you shouldn't have done this Sharisse. But I'm going to finish what you started tonight." He lifted his lips up on one side and continued. "I am in control now, and you will obey. There is to be no speaking for you unless I ask it. The only sounds you are permitted tonight are moans, groans or screams. Or a combination of the three. If you understand, nod yes." He looked down at her, and cocked his brow at her silence. Shari gave in to his demand and sighed before she nodded her head in agreement.
"Since you are a lover of fashion, your safe word is polyester. If I am truly hurting you, or if you are scared of anything we do together, use it. I will stop whatever we are doing and the night will end. Sharisse, my kitten, follow me." Pierre walked her to the chaise lounge, tossed the earlier discarded clothes before he took a seat for himself. "Lie over my lap face down and be graceful with it."
Shari was by no means graceful, but she did as he requested and lay down over his thighs. He rubbed circles over the soft flesh of her buttocks with one large hand. The other skimmed her spine, fingers reaching the nape to tunnel through her hair. He fisted the locks, and curled her head south. Pierre undid the two buckles at the back of the constrainment bustier and the straps framing her hips drooped. When the pair of straps slid to the floor her sex was completely exposed.
"Kitten, I am going to punish you for your bad behavior tonight. There will be a full twenty swats. Count each out loud as I give them, or you earn five more."
Pierre felt his wife shiver, and he let his hand fly. The cadence was that of a short frenzy, each smack sent her in a series of spasms and quivers. Her count faltered and Shari almost earned additional blows within the first five slaps. "One. Two. Three... Four. Five." He felt warmth splash against his knees and knew that Shari's eyes begun to tear almost immediately.
Pierre stopped and mentally counted for thirty seconds before he resumed. He rubbed the stinging skin, and when he gentled her to a state of calm, begun again.
"Ahhh... Six. Seven..." Shari panted with in time with her breath. "Eight. Nine. Ten."
He stopped again, this time for ten seconds before he started again. The hand in her hair checked her into the proper position to receive each of the bee-stung strokes she would get next. This time Shari responded to his brand of punishment, she lifted her hips to make each connection of hand on ass occur faster. "Ohhh... Pierre... Eleven. Twelve... Thirteen. Fourteen...Fifteen! Please Pierre!"
He was smug and decided to let her slip pass this time. She had pleased him well with her swift acquiescence into debauchery and sensual trust. "Yes, kitten?" Pierre polished her skin with his hands for long moments and he wanted nothing more than to savor each second of the first punishment he gave his wife.
Out of nowhere, Pierre resumed, and Shari wailed with each blow. "God, Pierre... Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen... Nineteen, Twenty!"
"Très bonne, chaton." Pierre felt her shudder and stroked his fingers to her entrance and let the slurp of juices at her core suckle his fingertips teasingly. He only gave her an inch, but Shari’s body begged for the whole mile.
"S'il vous plaît me prendre, Pierre!" Please take me. Shari was so close to orgasm he knew she would come, if he so much as breathed on her. He could nearly taste the need that wafted from her flesh. His hand was still clenched in her hair and he loved Shari even more in her current state of abandon. She blew his mind at how easily she was lost in him and blind to everything but wicked desire.
"Je vous al dit de se taire." Pierre told her to be silent first and then advised her that she earned a second punishment. "Vous avez gagné une autre peine."
"S'il vous plaît, je n'ai pas..."
It didn’t matter what she intended, she let the beast out and now she had to sate the dragon she let loose with her last bit of innocence, Pierre thought. "So now it’s, please you didn't, huh? Didn't seem that way earlier. Stand up, kitten."
Pierre was mollified slightly when she complied the moment he uttered the words. He showed her the significance of the garment she chose by fastening the armbands to the back of the bustier. The hooks ringing the garment were meant to be used as bindings and now her arms folded across her back and fingers nearly touched the elbow of the opposite arm. The position was highly uncomfortable, just as he meant for it to be. He saw that Shari was excited by the minor discomfort. She shivered even as her skin glistened with sweat and arousal pooled in a thick cream between her thighs.
He stood and slowly Pierre circled his wife as he looked down at her. The position did nothing for her humility and she still held her head high in a silent challenge. But her eyes ruined the statement her bold stance made and Pierre allowed her to look as it made him feel even more in control. Once he faced her, he paid special attention to the tassels on her nipples. They were a chain that wrapped her taut buds and kept tightened with a bead, with a single heavy brass tassel hanging at the base. Pierre grasped one of the tiny ornaments and listened to Shari’s breath hitch from the tug on her tortured nub. The other metallic frond was flicked with a finger and he watched it sway left and right, only this time Shari groaned at the pendulum swing on her flesh.
"Oui, kitten. You want me to take you, pet?" Whether she was ready or not, she was to receive all that he had to give tonight and maybe more.
"Oui, Pierre."
Pierre took one hand to steady his wife and unbuckled the freed straps at the bottom of the bustier. He wanted her exposed entirely to his gaze, right now. Once the front of the crotch unclasped from the top of the leather garment, Pierre let it fall and pulled his wife's moist sex against his turgid one. She went off balance from the position of her arms, and leaned back to nearly crumple onto the wood floor.
But Pierre had full control of her an
d he let her torso roll away, before he swung her back to clasp his chest. Shari's hair swayed behind her and Pierre turned her to face away from him. Her shoulders drooped and the change in posture gave away the fact that she was surprised with his abruptness. His purpose was to braid her hair into one long plaited rope and completely reveal every charm he’d sampled in the last months.
"I love your hair, kitten. But tonight, you lose the right to hide any reaction from me, even with that glorious mane. I want to see how you feel while I take you." Shari quivered against him, and Pierre gritted his teeth as he felt the shimmy of her hips against his.
She felt so good, soft and feminine. Pierre needed to get control and used the thick braid to tease, skimmed over her shoulder first as he tickled her.
please me: parisian passion Page 2