by Unknown
“I might cry when I come,” she said, her voice barely contained emotion and classic Rowena honesty.
“Me, too,” I said.
That seemed to satisfy her because she let me push my lips to her nether lips. I parted her with my tongue, gathering all her sweet wetness with my mouth. I sucked boldly, drawing that swollen pink flesh against my lips and teeth and tongue and when Ro groaned it rumbled up through me because she had put her mouth on me. Her silken lips brushing, soft like rose petals, on my tender sex.
I couldn’t help myself, I drove myself up to meet her mouth. Even though it hurt me to do it, I did it again. And she took me, latching on, sucking, finding a way to push her small fingers inside of me and flex them so I came hard and fast out of nowhere.
“Jesus,” I said against her. My tongue never stopping, not even when I said the word. My orgasm had taken be by surprise—swift and brutal—primal. No doubt a response to my brush with death. She lapped at me softly, knowing I was tender. Knowing it would be too much, but even too much, I relished it. I shoved my fingers, a thick greedy bunch of them, inside her cunt. I thrust hard, latching onto her clit and giving it my mouth’s undivided attention. When her knees started to shake and she had stopped licking at me to gather her ‘reward’ as she called it after I came, I knew I had her. And God, how I wanted her right that way. Under my spell, shaking for me—mine.
She was mine and I was so fucking glad to see another day of her being mine.
Ro pressed her forehead to my knee. Her upper body bowing down to press my legs as she mashed her pussy tight to my seeking mouth.
When she came it was all sweet wetness and soft cries. She let me clean every last drop, her body pressing to my face so all I could hear in my head was my own tongue and my thundering heart.
Until I heard her crying.
She rolled away but I caught her ankle even through the tangle of bed sheets and my discarded clothes. “Come on up here.”
“I’ll be right back—” She sobbed, tried to flee.
“Come up here Rowena,” I said, using her full name.
She crawled to me, tucked herself up against me, let me hold her. “It’s okay, don’t cry,” I said.
“I’m crying, deal with it,” she huffed.
It made me smile.
“Fine.”
“Dealing with it’s in the line of duty,” she said, her voice catching, though I could tell she was trying to make a joke.
“How so?”
“In the line of duty of being my girl,” she said, kissing me. Her mouth was trembling and we both pretended not to notice.
“Then I’ll gladly deal with it,” I said, stroking her hair.
Evil Streak
By Sommer Marsden
I was primping and Elliot was digging for cufflinks. Who the hell wears cufflinks anymore, you ask? My man. That’s who.
“I told your mother you’d come and meet her new beau this weekend,” I said, chewing my lip to keep from laughing.
He stilled and my pulse picked up. His fingers that had been tickling through his nightstand debris stopped and he looked up at me. His cool green eyes were curious and starting to darken a bit with approaching annoyance. “You what?”
“She calls me all the time!” I said, trying not to smile. I knew it was cruel, but I’d done it anyway. A bit of a payback for his constant overtime as of late. I felt neglected and lonely and my revenge had been to toss him to his mom and her new boyfriend Bob like tossing a wounded antelope to a particularly hungry lion.
“So?” He started to move his hands again, but I felt him watching me.
“So, why doesn’t she call you and ask you to meet Bob? Bob who boats, Bob who golfs, Bob who collects vintage beer cans.” I put my earrings in, spritzed myself with perfume and straightened my necklace.
When I turned to him, he was watching me. Fiercely. Now I felt like the antelope.
“So you tell her that. Mother June, call Elliot yourself.”
“Mother June,” I snorted. “What is this, the fifties?”
He almost smiled.
“Now you ruined my plans for the weekend,” he said. Something in his voice made me hesitate.
“What do you mean?”
Elliot shrugged. “Nothing. Can you help me, Lex?”
He called me Lex instead of Alexis, he couldn’t be too mad.
“What are we looking for?” I hovered over the drawer and sighed when his hand came up to stroke me behind my knee. His hand whispered across my nylons and the touch was perfect. Not too hard, not too soft. Not too innocent but not too rough.
“The small TARDIS cufflinks,” he said, grinning.
“God. The Doctor at dinner, even,” I said, but I laughed. “I don’t see them…”
“Here, sit. Maybe I left them in the bathroom.”
Elliott stood and I sat, pushing around the stuff in his top dresser drawer. Antacids, pens, a small travel packet of aspirin, lube, a pair of fur lined handcuffs…I laughed at that and wondered where the plain steel pair was. I pushed back a book on cocktails, a cigar catalog and a pair of nail clippers. No cufflinks.
I felt him take my hand, and I smiled. Until I felt him take the other and heard the missing plain steel cuffs make their clinky ratcheting sound. “Elliott!” I yelped.
His lips were pressed in a tight line and in his eyes danced a glimmer of amusement. But there was also annoyance there, I wasn’t so self delusional as to miss that. “You ruined my plans,” he said again, tsking softly and shaking his head.
I watched him pull off his tie and my mouth opened and closed on its own. “I…what…Elliot!”
“I know I’ve been working a lot lately,” he said. He grabbed the handcuffs by the short bit of connecting chain and raised my arms up. The motion made my breasts jut out and press fully into the black bodice of my dress. His eyes danced over the modest but enticing bit of cleavage there. He tugged and I watched transfixed, my normally big mouth not moving a bit.
Elliot stretched my arms back just a hair more and hooked my cuffed hands over the knob of our bedpost. Gravity and the fact that the bedpost was just a bit higher than my arms meant I was stuck like this until he let me out. I felt instantly claustrophobic and…wet. A thrill coursed through the center of me and moisture pooled in my fancy silk panties. I’d dressed up to go out and now I was tethered to my own bed.
“Well…you have,” he said. I was mortified to find that my eyes were tearing up.
Elliot studied me and nodded once, briskly. “I’m sorry. I had planned, this weekend, to keep you in bed for the duration. Eating and lounging and reading the paper.” He idly pushed my bodice down just a bit and pulled my breast free so it rested on the crushed, bunched up fabric. His thumb swept back and forth over my tender pink nipple and I watched, transfixed, as it pebbled, puckered, and beaded up into a knot under his soft touch. It was like a magic trick and if it weren’t for the spears of pleasure working their way under my skin and inching down to settle between my thighs, I’d wonder if he was actually touching me. It felt more like being mesmerized by a trick of the eye.
“Oh,” I said. Because it was the most intelligent thing I could think to say.
“I was going to touch you,” Elliot said, his voice a soft, sensual caress. The other breast was positioned to his liking and he proceeded to tease that nipple to attention as well.
My pulse was now pounding in my chest, my temples, my throat…my cunt.
“And taste you…” Elliot squatted and quickly—with his deft surgeon hands—shimmied the skirt of my dress up my thighs and over my hips. Above my thigh high stockings my bare thighs prickled with goose bumps.
“And fuck you,” he said, leaning in to place a chaste kiss right on the gusset of my black panties.
My breath caught and I noticed the sting and ache in my shoulders. But more than that, I noticed the thump and bang of arousal in my pussy. Elliot pinned me with his gaze, his bright green eyes brilliant and amused. He slid a single finger under
the elastic of my panties and found the center of me, my wetness. He slid that finger in slow and easy, never looking away from me. When I tried to swallow, my throat clicked. I realized I was holding my breath.
His finger curled inside of me, triggering a cascade of pleasant spasms in my pussy. I tried to move against his hand but he withdrew his finger and pressed the slick digit to my clitoris. I whimpered.
“But now,” he sighed, sitting back on our pristine white carpet. “I have to meet Bob.”
“I…oh, God. Elliot! Don’t—” I was shaking my head, babbling. He’d brought me down to desire and sensation. I couldn’t even form a fucking sentence.
“Hold that thought, lover,” he said and got to his feet. He kissed my forehead and left the room. Left me there. Arms bound, stomach turning, panties soaked, breasts bared. I’d never been more turned on, or more frustrated.
I shifted, trying to get my dress down. Or fuck, even up would work. It was trapped right above my panties. But not all the way up to my waist. It was surely my imagination, but the lick of cool bedroom air to the front of my damp panties was maddening. I shifted and it only served to agitate the growing need between my legs.
“Elliot,” I gasped. But it was soft, I was too stubborn to actually call out to him.
I heard him downstairs, moving around in the very deliberate way of his. None of Elliot’s movements were wasted. So this was his plan—me sitting here, stewing in my own juices, lacking what I needed. All the while, I was right where he needed me.
I heard his big booming voice. A rich baritone that I’d often joked deserved to be showcased on the radio. It was moving toward me and I had a moment of panic. Who was he talking to? Was someone here?
Then he entered the room, smiling, the kitchen portable pressed to his ear. “Yes, mom. She told me and I had to call. Right. To say…” He paused for June to speak, I could hear her through the tiny speaker. “I can’t wait to meet Bob,” he said and winked at me.
My stomach bottomed out. Damn, damn, damn. I had maneuvered myself out of a weekend of fucking and orgasms and lounging because of my brattish move. I bit my lip.
Elliot hung up and put the phone on the nightstand. “How you hanging in there, Lex?”
My stubbornness reared up and I straightened my back to relieve the pressure. “I’m fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yes, fine,” I said. Against my will, my hips moved just a touch. Just enough to make me slicker, warmer, more eager to be fucked. If that was possible.
“Let’s see.” He said it softly, almost to himself, the way he did when he was dictating surgery notes in the home office downstairs. Elliot leaned in slowly, I had time to study the freshly shaved terrain of his face, the strands of silver just starting to sprout in his almost black hair, the laugh lines around his bright eyes.
His mouth settled on my nipple and he sucked. That tug wormed its way through the core of me. Traveling fast and searing like heat lightning from my nipple to my belly to my cunt. My internal muscles flexed tight and I felt myself slide closer to an orgasm. Small pleasurable pulses worked through me and I almost opened my mouth and begged. But not now. Not yet.
Being very deliberate, very controlled, very maddening, he moved his way across to my other breast. His lips leaving a warm comet tail across my skin. His big hands, hands I was often obsessed with, clutched the tops of my thighs to keep me still. He knew how I worked. I’d move and try and get myself off. I’d shift and move and shimmy and clench. I knew that and he wouldn’t let me. Knowing he wouldn’t let me was enough to almost get me off anyway.
“Ah, behave now. No cheating.” His thumbs swept back and forth above my stockings. Then, as he kissed my throat, my clavicle, the valley between my small breasts, he unhooked the garters from my stockings and started to push them down. One at a time. Super slow. So I found myself holding my breath yet again.
I would not ask about his mother. I would not ask about Bob. I would not…But in the back of my mind, I wondered what he’d said. What was going on. The thought fled my mind when he finally gave into my secret wish and reached around behind me to unzip my pretty—and now wrinkled—dress.
“Hmm,” he said, eyeing me. “You’re tethered. So I either have to let you stand for a moment to get this thing off you or cut it off.”
My eyes went wide and he chuckled. “Don’t worry. I bought this lovely frock for you, Lex. I’d never cut it.” He tugged my arms up for a moment, unhooking the chain from the bedpost. When my arms went slack, pins and needles instantly erupting in my painfully tight shoulder muscles. “Stand,” he said, tugging the cuffs.
I stood and let him push the dress down my body. Thank God it was strapless, because otherwise he might have cut it. I didn’t see Elliot taking the cuffs off until he was damn good and ready.
I stood there in my panties and my garter belt. I had yet to put my heels on. Elliot smiled at me, took the time to hang my dress over the back of the easy chair in the corner. Then he kissed me, big hands in my hair, lips soft but demanding. “I’m sorry, Lex,” he whispered against my lips. “I’ve been way too busy for way too long.”
My throat closed some with emotion so I didn’t anticipate it when he pushed me back gently with tented fingers. Three little fingers applied to my sternum and push…down I went on my bottom. He tugged the cuff chain back up and hooked it over the bedpost. “Still, you were out of line by promising my mother I’d come meet Bob.”
He chuckled when he said Bob and I almost smiled.
“You were bad,” he said.
“I was bad,” I agreed. I nearly rolled my eyes. I was shameless.
“That evil streak of yours needs to be contained,” he said.
I nodded. “Yes,” I agreed.
I moved back and forth just a bit and a small moan escaped me. That pressure, that friction, made me want him so much more. More than I already did. Which was downright impossible.
He undid his button and I watched, fascinated, as his long fingers dragged the silver zipper pull down. Elliot watched me, watching him. He smirked a little and I wanted to be offended. I wanted to be angry. Instead, I licked my lips, wanting his cock in my mouth. I wanted that silken smooth hardness trapped between my lips. I wanted him fucking my mouth and then I wanted him fucking me.
“Open your mouth, dear,” he said and grinned at me. It was lupine in nature, that grin, and I wouldn’t have been surprised had he leaned forward to eat me up in two big bites like the big bad wolf. Instead of balking, which I think we both expected, my mouth popped open.
“Oh, look who’s tame tonight.” He chuckled, running the tip of his cock along my lower lip. He spread a small salty dot of pre-come across my lip like gloss.
I stuck my tongue out to touch his cock and he sighed. “You know you really were bad, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I whispered, taking the length of his cock as he slipped into my mouth. I sucked and he sighed and started to move in small gentle thrusts. He never hurt me. He just controlled me and it worked. Worked for me, worked for him, worked for us.
He surged into me, deep enough to gag me a little. Far enough down to make my eyes stream with tears. All the while his fingers played at the soft hairs that curled against my face. I watched his eyes grow darker, his jaw grow tighter, his control grow fragile. Then he pulled from me and grabbed the cuffs, pulling my arms up and the chain off just enough to free me.
“Stand up, Alexis,” he said.
My skin erupted in bumps and I bit my tongue. I knew what that meant—the use of my full name, the stern voice, the tight jaw. My nipples studded against nothing at all, seeking friction, contact, sensation. He brushed them gently with the tips of his fingers so my stomach muscles fluttered in sympathy. With a jaunty flip of his wrist he turned me, his own little jewelry box ballerina, bound with handcuffs.
Elliott sat on the bed. “Over my knee, Alexis.”
I didn’t say a word. I didn’t even think about saying no. I slowly lowered m
yself with his help and positioned myself over his knees. His black slacks were smooth under my belly, his big hands warm when the palmed my ass, still sheathed in panties. As if that made me safe.
“I think you need to say something to me, Alexis.”
“I’m sorry,” I blurted. And not just because he was about to spank my ass, but because I was sorry. That I’d robbed us of a weekend in bed, alone, just being lazy and together.
“Good girl. I think you just earned a short one instead of long one.” I felt the achingly slow drag of my panties being pushed down. He only pushed them down to mid-thigh so that they bound my legs together and kept me still.
The first blow was not so bad, but I wasn’t fooled. The second blow was a bit harder, bringing blood and tingling to the surface of my ass cheek. The third blow crossed them both and made me jump. Heat began to pound under the surface of my skin. I whimpered.
“What was that?” he asked.
I hadn’t said a thing but I took the chance to say, “I’m sorry” again.
“I know you are.” He broke off from the flurry of blows to push his fingers inside of me. Two thick fingers invaded my pussy and tested me. He stretched my inner walls a bit and then shoved his fingers deep so that he brushed my G-spot. I sagged over his lap.
“Just a few more to go and I’ll be fucking you. I’m mad, but I want you, Alexis. Do you see the things you do to me?” He waited.
“Yes,” I barely managed as he moved his fingers to give my pounding clit one fast tickle.
“Now let’s get back to what I’m doing to you.”
Fire rained down on my bottom. Behind my closed eyes I imagined his cherry red handprints on my pale flesh. Welts and tiny purple freckles from the blows. I’d admire any marks he left for days. My wrists clanked as I tried to steady myself, still bound by cheap metal. All I could think about as the final blows rained down was him stuffing me full of himself.
He didn’t say a word, just pulled me up by a trembling elbow and laid me back. His fingers clicked over the release mechanism on the cuffs and he freed me. Face to face, we regarded each other as he pulled my panties free of my body. Next came the garter belt. I found him with my hand, squeezing his hard length to feel the heat and heft of it.