Power Play

by Stein, Charlotte

  ‘Yeah, you like that?’ I ask him, but of course he can’t answer. I honestly didn’t realise how delightful that could be, considering how good he is with the talking. ‘You like the idea of some anonymous women smacking your bare ass as you pass by, or maybe … maybe giving you a little lick, huh?’

  I make the circle I’ve got around his dick very loose now. I have to, because he isn’t just jerking into it any more. He’s rolling his hips and rubbing the swollen head against my palm and if he carries on he’s going to come.

  I can almost feel it building, somewhere around his lower back. And even if I couldn’t his desperate, guttural moans are an absolutely massive clue.

  ‘Yeah, I think one of them leans over as you stand at attention, awaiting further orders. And then she pokes out her tongue and just tastes the strand of liquid that’s trailing down over your stiff cock. What do you think, Benjamin? You think that sounds nice?’

  He breaks, this time. It’s definitely not a moan that comes out of him – I know it isn’t. It’s a breathless, panted ‘please’, and judging by how close he’s getting to just rubbing himself off on my bedspread, is aimed in the direction of my teasing hand.

  ‘How about if one of my friends is a guy?’

  ‘OK, I have to talk because you clearly don’t want me to come, but I am definitely going to come if you keep telling me this stuff. It doesn’t matter how little you touch me – I’m going to do it anyway,’ he blurts out, quite suddenly. And ohhh I know I should be mad at his disobedient ways, but fuck it – I can’t be. I can’t be. I just want to make him worse than he already is, instead.

  ‘If you come, I’ll punish you,’ I say, then just for good measure I slide my free hand down over his back, to those marks he still has all over his ass.

  And I rake my nails right over them.

  ‘Ah, God. God – OK. I’m calm, OK? I’m calm.’

  ‘You’d better be, because now I’m going to talk about how much my friend … “David” really, really wants to suck your cock.’

  ‘Is this seriously an actual person?’ he gasps out, and good Lord he sounds frantic. I can’t tell what the franticness means either, but it doesn’t seem of consequence. Nothing’s of consequence when he’s got a hand between his legs and is doing something I initially want to tell him off for.

  Until I realise what he’s actually doing. He’s getting a good, firm grip on his balls, so that when I say things like suck and cock he can yank on them hard enough to make me wince.

  ‘No. But you can still picture him, can’t you? You can still picture him slowly easing his mouth down over your big, stiff cock.’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah.’

  ‘In fact, I’m betting you can picture just about everyone there, taking turns to suck you off,’ I say, and I swear for a second I can see it so clearly I almost come. I’ve never been this aroused so soon after an orgasm, and it’s definitely the fault of this perverted story I’ve thought up.

  And maybe also his fault, for being so turned on by it that he has to yank on his balls to stop himself coming. He has to actually push my hand away, because apparently brushing his cock with my palm is just too, too much.

  ‘They take turns?’ he asks.

  ‘Of course they take turns. It wouldn’t be fair if only one person got to try out your delicious cock, would it?’

  He’s practically sobbing, now, and the incredulity in his voice has reached fever pitch. It’s like he can’t believe that someone could actually come up with this stuff – which only makes me wonder what he was like with Woods. What happened when Woods told him that once he tied me naked to his desk?

  ‘You seriously think my cock is delicious?’

  ‘I think if all of my friends saw you naked and aroused, they wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off you. I think they’d want to touch you all over – and you know what? You’d let them. You’re such a slut that you’d let them suck and rub you everywhere, all of those women, all at once. Two of them licking your nipples, one of them sucking and playing with your balls. And then the man …’

  ‘Is he sucking my cock?’

  ‘Is that what you want?’

  ‘Yeah. He could force me. He could force me.’

  ‘He could force you to let him suck your cock? Or he could force you to suck his?’

  Of course, I expect him to hesitate here, just like he did before. I mean, this is definitely a step up from some vague, theoretical question. He’s close to orgasm and the whole scenario is really, really clear in my head, at the very least. And judging by how rigid his body’s gone, and how tightly his eyes are closed, I’m guessing it’s fairly clear in his.

  But he doesn’t pause for even the smallest moment.

  ‘I want him to force his cock into my mouth.’

  ‘And then what?’

  ‘And then he could fuck my face. He could hold me down and fuck me like that, while you suck me off.’

  Now it’s my turn to hesitate. Though really the word ‘hesitate’ doesn’t quite encompass everything that happens to me. I think I go numb below the waist, once the electromagnetic pulse of pleasure has finished wiping out my groin.

  ‘Is that what you want, huh?’ I ask, but I already know the answer. He isn’t just squeezing his eyes shut now. He’s got a hand over them as he rocks against whatever he can find, helplessly.

  And I can’t really blame him for that. I’m the one who’s supposed to be in control, and I don’t want to hold back any more. I want to clasp my hand around his cock instead, and feel him shudder and gasp as he jerks through that tight circle. I want him to imagine exactly how it would feel to be pinned and fucked so completely, and I want it so much that I don’t stop at some sloppy, largely passive hand-job.

  I make him turn onto his back so I can just lean over his body and lick his stiff, solid length, from root to tip.

  Of course, a bunch of other stuff happens when I do. His hips jerk up, a sound escapes his mouth, his hand leaves his eyes. But I think the thing I like best is his dazed expression when he glances down his body at me and finds what I sort of meant to fix the moment it occurred.

  My robe is open. And I mean open. It’s practically off my shoulders and I’m finding it very hard to care about that fact when he’s looking at my breasts like he possibly wants to drown in them. I can see him just kind of … inching his hand in their general direction, as though maybe I won’t notice he’s groping my tits if he does it really, really slowly.

  He doesn’t get there, however. He’s too busy being stunned by the fact that I’m almost bare, and am currently flicking my tongue over the swollen head of his dick.

  ‘Oh you’re naked,’ he says, only it comes out all in one big breath. It isn’t like words really, but he doesn’t try to clarify. He just eats at my body with his eyes in a way I don’t think anyone else has ever done, taking in all the parts he hasn’t yet seen.

  God, I can’t believe he hasn’t yet seen me. I can’t believe I feel self-conscious about it, even now. But I do, I do – I swear, it takes all my effort not to flinch when he just strokes his fingertips over my shoulder until most of the rest of the robe slides down.

  ‘Uh, don’t do that,’ he says, and he does so because I’ve gone a little way beyond some teasing little licks. I’m not quite sure when it happened, but I seem to be kissing the silky smooth tip of his cock in a very wet, rude sort of manner. ‘Don’t – Jesus. I didn’t think you’d look this way.’

  This time when I give him a little kiss, I do it with pretty much all of my mouth. All over the head of his cock, greedily, messily, before returning to the matter at hand.

  ‘How did you think I’d look?’

  ‘I don’t know, I don’t know. More – ooohhhh that’s so intense – more severe. Angular, I guess. Your suits don’t do you justice.’

  And by ‘that’ he means the long, strong suck I give him as I ease down over his cock, then all the way back up again. In fact, I do it so hard and so long that my cheeks h
ollow out as I go, something which he sure seems to appreciate. He almost fucks up into my mouth in just the way we discussed some guy doing to him not a moment before.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘You’re so soft … oh, your tits …’ he moans, but he’s pretty much lost it by now. His eyes are just those hazy little slits again – like they were on the table when I lashed his ass. And I can see the hand he wants to put on me clenching at the sheets somewhere to the right of his body.

  ‘You want to touch them?’

  ‘Are you kidding? Yes. Yeah –’

  ‘You want to lick them?’

  ‘Fuck, yes.’

  ‘And how about if I let you stick your cock between them, fuck me there, like that, then come all over my chest and face?’

  ‘Ohhh man, you’re messing with me, right? I’m sorry, I’m sorry –’

  ‘Sorry for what?’

  ‘Sorry I want to cream all over you. Sorry I want to fuck your tits and your pussy oh please just let me come. Can I come?’

  There’s a moment where I’m pretty sure I’m going to let him. He’s struggling to keep his hips on the mattress and the head of his cock feels oh so tense and slick. Every time I make a slow circle with my tongue around and around it, or maybe ease my lips in a nice tight circle down over it, I can practically make out the effect it has on him. It’s like an electric charge goes through his body, and he has to clench hard just about everywhere to keep it in.

  But then the moment passes, and I find myself saying something else instead.

  ‘I don’t think so, Benjamin.’

  His fingers wriggle and twist around the handfuls of sheets he’s gotten hold of. Like a little kid, I think, unable to contain himself at the sight of a sweet shop, though what sweet shop I’ve just shown him, I don’t know.

  ‘I think I’m going to use you to get off instead.’

  And then it’s clear. He wants to be denied. He wants to be tormented. In fact, he wants to go one further than all of that – and he isn’t afraid to tell me so.

  ‘Oh God yeah, do that. Say that word again.’

  I give him a little lick, right on that sensitive spot just below the head.

  ‘And which word might that be?’

  I genuinely have no idea. His face has gone all flushed and he doesn’t seem capable of closing his mouth – his lips look like some soft, wet fruit that’s been split down the middle – but it could just be due to the grip I’ve now got on his cock.

  Or you know. It could be this: ‘Use,’ he says, and then again, just for good measure. ‘Use me up. Use me like I’m your toy.’

  Oh, Lord. Lord, how does he know? How can he be so perfect like this, and not see it? He seems a little ashamed of himself for saying something so vaguely ridiculous, even if its very vague ridiculousness is what makes him breathe all shaky and weird when I crawl my way up his body.

  ‘Are you … are you actually going to do it?’ he asks, when I get to his mouth – but he doesn’t really need to. Before he’s gotten the words out I’m kind of answering them for him, and I’m not doing so by drawing him a diagram.

  I’m doing it in a way that makes him go all still, those misty-blue eyes of his fixing on my face in a kind of delighted, wondering sort of manner that excites me almost as much as what I’m doing does. He looks like he’s figuring me out, I think, as I rub my spread sex over his deliciously solid belly. He looks like he’s so aroused that his words have gotten caught halfway out of his mouth, and though I think he wants to stop himself from touching me, he doesn’t quite manage it.

  Instead he just slides his hands down over my hips, over the curve of my ass, and once he’s there he grips me, tightly. Tugs at me, just a little bit, until I’m really sliding my swollen clit against him.

  Though it’s not that taut little bead he notices particularly.

  ‘Ohhh that’s really slippery,’ he tells me, as though I really might have no idea. I was wet enough after the licking he gave me – fuck knows what I’m like now. I’m guessing someone could take a swim in my pussy, if they so chose.

  Or you know. Maybe they could just rub all of that wetness all over Benjamin Tate until he goes nuts. He can’t seem to keep it together when I cut him off, though of course I understand why now.

  I think he actually prefers being denied.

  ‘Put your hands above your head,’ I tell him and he just does it. He even clasps his left wrist in the circle of his right, just for good measure, and oh the way it all looks …

  I can’t get over the heavy curves of his biceps, framing his head like that. Or how shuddery he seems with anticipation, despite the tense and sure hold he’s got on himself. He’s almost a maze of contradictions in that moment, and all of them are almost as exciting as the slick sound of my cunt sliding over his skin.

  As the feel of his perfectly soft lips, when I stroke my tongue over them.

  ‘I’m going to ride that thick cock of yours now,’ I tell him, in between a million little licks that seem to send him almost out of control. He gasps every time I do it, and bucks his hips, and when he does both I can feel his cock butting up against my ass. I can feel how wet it is at the tip, how ready he is to fuck, and though I know I should maintain my calm that fact makes it hard.

  I think my hands are shaking as I lean over and fish a condom out of my bedside drawer. And then I know my hands are shaking, because it’s obvious when you’re trying to unwrap a rubber and slide it down over someone’s cock. I expect him to comment on it – on my fumbling, sloppy efforts to get the thing on him – but he doesn’t.

  He just lies there, squirming, as I do my level best to squeeze his immense cock into something that’s clearly two sizes too small for it. By the time I’m done it looks like its cutting off the blood supply, but he hardly seems to mind.

  He’s busy mouthing at that smooth curve of muscle that’s just in reach of his teeth and tongue, little tight groans of pleasure escaping him every now and then. All of his attention on his body and everything that’s happening to it, until I do more than just touch him.

  I take that big, thick cock of his, and slide it through my slippery folds. Like I’m just trying him out, I guess, though it ends up being more than that. Once I’ve felt the soft-but-hard head of his cock against my clit, I don’t really want to do anything else but rub it there, nice and slow.

  Which he doesn’t particularly appreciate.

  ‘Oh come on, Elea–’ he starts, then seems to come to his senses before he finishes the word. However, once he’s done so he doesn’t seem to know what he should go with instead, and I have to say – I’m no help to him there. I don’t know what he should go with either. ‘Sir’ seems too formal, at this moment, and he’s hardly being obedient. ‘Ms Harding’ is for the office; ‘baby’ is something you reserve for your girlfriend.

  So he plays it safe and goes with nothing instead.

  ‘Come on, don’t tease,’ he tells me, but I’m in the teasing business now. My clit feels so stiff, and even stiffer against the solid tip of his cock. Every time I stroke that thick thing back and forth these sweet little almost-aftershocks shudder through my body, like a reminder of the orgasm I had not so long ago.

  And the promise of one I could have right now, if I really wanted to. I could come all over his cock, fast and hard, and afterwards let him have what he so clearly needs. He’s so eager for it he’s practically jerking up into my grip, and every now and then he holds his breath, like he’s just on the verge of it and wants to feel it fully.

  But that would be just too easy, I think. Far, far too easy.

  ‘If you come before I do, I’ll never let you do this again,’ I tell him, and just as his eyes widen and his mouth opens to let out a bit of outrage, I find my wet and waiting hole with his hard cock and just ease down over it.

  Though in all honesty, I’ve no idea how I do it. He’s so big that I actually gasp, and I don’t get much further than the halfway point. In fact, when it gets to the halfwa
y point he actually jerks his hands down and grabs my hips, as though he’s the one who’s afraid of where he’s going to end up.

  And then he apologises too, just for good measure.

  ‘Sorry,’ he says, but he doesn’t explain why. Is it for the hands he’s now got on me, even though I told him to keep them above his head? Or is it for this absolutely incredible thing that’s currently spreading me open, in a way that seems to be making me flush and say some pretty stupid things?

  ‘Oh you’re soooo big,’ I think I tell him, like I’ve just found myself in a ridiculous porno of my own life. Though to my credit, I’m not certain I’ve ever felt anything quite like this before. It’s hardly a shock that it’s making me flush all over and gasp incoherently, and I’m just thankful that he doesn’t want me to feel bad about it.

  In fact, he seems more concerned with the effect it has on him than anything else.

  ‘Seriously? You’re seriously going to say stuff like that? And you’re gonna also look like that while you say it? But I’m not allowed to come. You say stuff and look like that and I have to somehow not come.’

  I test him out just a little – just a little rock back and forth, so that the big, thick head of his cock almost rolls against something awesome inside me – and watch him jerk as though stung. Then I answer.

  ‘Why? What’s so bad about saying that? I mean, you are big. Ohhh you’re so big that I can’t even take all of you into my tight, wet cunt.’

  ‘That’s … OK. That’s not cool.’

  ‘Mmm, baby – you feel so good. Here, watch. Watch your cock sliding in and out of my little pussy,’ I say, and then it’s quite possible that I actually show him. It doesn’t take much to do, after all – I just brace myself on his crooked legs and lean back a little, and everything’s made nice and clear. The split of my sex around his solid cock. Everything all slippery and silky and so, so swollen with arousal.

  I can make out the tight bead of my clit, and as he watches with something like incredulity on his face, I just reach between my legs and rub it a little. You know – just enough to force a moan out of me, in a way I’m sure he’s going to appreciate. Ohhh, I’m sure he will.