by Teri Trojan
‘Have to preserve the balance, don’t we?’ he said after a moment of pleasuring. She made no reply, savouring his every touch. ‘Come on. We can go back to my place. I think we have many things to discuss.’
‘I can’t wait that long,’ she said, lifting her short skirt and guiding his hand to the place that longed for the touch of another. He smiled.
‘You want me to fuck you right here? Does it matter that someone might come and see us?’ He lifted her and held against the wall of the building behind them. If anyone was inside, they could have a perfect view. This was her fantasy turning into reality and she gave no thought to the danger she might be facing. She made no sound, but forced her tongue into his mouth, at the same time forcing his fingers through the narrow thong of her panties until it reached the spot that craved satisfaction. His long fingers probed her, slipping off the hardening bud of flesh and moving ever deeper inside her. Her tongue flicked against his and his fingers matched the pattern. She panted, hot and ready. His thumb found her clit, and the massage became more urgent. Fingers and thumb were used together, forcing the flesh between her passage and throbbing bud to fuse together beneath his touch. She felt her orgasm sweeping through her and shuddered. The intensity of her climax produced violent spasms that rocked through them both. She relaxed and broke the union between their tongues.
‘Amazing lady,’ he said gently. ‘I can’t wait for us both to climax at the same time. One-all, I believe. Now, shall we go to my place or yours?’
‘I’m going to Stacey’s,’ she said firmly.
‘Looking like that?’
‘What do you mean? Oh.’ She looked down at her exposed breasts and tried to hitch the straps back over her shoulders. The broken one hung limply and she tucked it into her cleavage.
‘I shall have to accompany you. Preserve your modesty. Maybe if I keep my hand here…?’ He placed his hand carefully over her shoulder, to cover the top of her breast and hold the thin fabric of her dress. She leant back against him, feeling the soft leather of his jacket against her bare back. His body was hard and strong and the arm almost felt like some restraint; sexy, powerful, and full of promise of things to come. She moved slightly, not wanting him to think he had in any way achieved domination over her. He gripped her harder and she tried to twist out of his grasp. The thin, spiky heel of her shoe snapped, and she stumbled slightly.
‘Damn,’ she muttered.
‘So I take it Stacey’s is no longer an option?’ he said smoothly. ‘Good. I don’t like mixing business and pleasure. My car is over here. I think my place is the obvious choice under the circumstances.’
Chapter Two
Shoanna shrugged. Why not? She liked this man and he certainly could turn her on. In fact, Tonio faded right into the background by comparison. What had she been missing through all these months she had put him first? There had been plenty of other men around, but if Tonio had beckoned, he always won against the rest. Now, this man could certainly beat all challengers.
‘Looks like it’s your place.’
‘I don’t even know your name,’ he murmured, helping her over the rough ground as she teetered on her one remaining heel. When she stumbled, with an economical movement, he swept her into his powerful arms. He held her against the car as he retrieved the remote, pressed the button, and opened the door. She was helped into the seat and sat back, savouring the scent of leather again. She was rapidly developing a fetish for leather, she thought. She looked across at her own car, still parked on the rough land. She would come back for it later.
He started the engine; smoothly, he drove away, the powerful car moving swiftly into the late evening traffic. They left the town behind them and were soon deep into the country. Where was he taking her? Did she, for one moment, allow a shred of fear to enter her mind? They stopped outside a pair of wrought iron gates and he pressed a control under the steering wheel. Silently, the gates swung open and they drove up a tree-lined avenue. The big house stood surrounded by trees, a circular drive in front. He pulled up outside the door and gestured for her to get out of the car. He watched as she swung her long legs out of the seat and, kicking off the useless shoes, walked barefoot to the door. As she approached, it swung open.
With barely a glance behind her, Shoanna entered the hallway. Large white, leather armchairs were arranged to give visitors somewhere to wait. The floor was cool marble, almost giving the impression of a hotel reception area. She heard the door close and turned to see her companion in full light for the first time. She was not disappointed.
He slipped off his jacket to reveal a crisp, white shirt. The buttons were unfastened partway down, revealing the dark curls that covered his chest. He had broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Her eyes travelled down his body and, suddenly, she gave a laugh. He looked to see what had amused her and noticed the dark stain in his groin.
‘You will have to be punished for causing that,’ he said with a glint in his eyes. ‘As you are so keen on fitness, we shall go down to my games room. But first, you might like to tidy yourself while I get us some champagne.’ He gestured towards a cloakroom, set to one side of the hall.
Shoanna went in, almost overwhelmed by the opulence of it all. The entire room was lined with gilt-framed mirrors and a marble vanity unit stretched along one side. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was no longer smooth and sleek, and her torn dress was hanging loosely to one side. She hardly looked the picture of elegance and was rather out of place in these luxurious surroundings. She loosed her hair and combed it, ready to scoop it back into its restraining clip.
‘Leave it like that,’ said a voice behind her. His arms went around her and his hands settled deliciously over her breasts. ‘Come on. I have things to show you that I think will entertain you.’
He pulled her gently across the hall and through a door at the opposite side. Stairs led down into some sort of cellar, she supposed. Her slight feelings of trepidation had evaporated and she was ready for anything. For some reason, she knew that she trusted this man, this stranger, whose name she still did not know. They came into a narrow room, once more lined with white leather seats. A wall of mirrors stretched along the side. Waiting on a low table was an ice bucket, an opened bottle of champagne, and two glasses.
‘Who are you?’ she asked suddenly, breaking whatever spell he was weaving.
‘Does it matter?’ he asked.
‘Maybe not, but I like to give names to my fantasies.’
‘Is that what I am? A fantasy? You disappoint me. I was hoping to create reality here tonight. Now, Some champagne?’ Shoanna nodded. He gave her a heavy, cut crystal champagne flute and she immediately sipped, needing to quench the dryness she felt in her mouth. ‘Andreas,’ he said. ‘You can call me Andreas.’
‘Shoanna,’ she replied. She finished her champagne and he poured her second glass.
‘Shoanna,’ he whispered. ‘Come over here.’ He slid one of the mirrors to one side to reveal another mirror-lined room that contained a range of fitness equipment. It was brightly lit, with spotlights that reflected from all the mirrors. Half of the floor was covered with a deep layer of foam matting, a vast area bigger than their entire sitting room at the flat. ‘Perhaps you will agree with me that this is very much better than the pavement. Now, where shall we begin?’
Her heart was pounding. This room held the potential to hundreds of fantasies she could think of. She looked into Andreas’s dark brown, almost black eyes, and licked her lips invitingly. She tossed her loose hair away from her face and looked around. He walked towards her and tugged at the one remaining shoulder strap. It snapped immediately, and the silver dress fell to the ground. She gave no thought to the ruin of a favourite dress, one that had cost her almost a week’s salary. Her body was naked, except for the slender thong she wore instead of panties. Andreas walked round her, studying her intently. Behind her, he slipped his fingers into the elastic of the thong and began to pull it gently at first, then more insistently so t
hat her pussy was rubbed and rubbed until once more her juices were flowing.
She turned to him and began to tug at his clothes. She wanted him. She must have him right away. He did not let go of her, both arms now round her waist, still pulling at the tiny teasing garment that was all she wore. She tugged at his trousers and finally released them. They did not slide off him, hampered as they were by an erection that made her gasp. He wore no underpants, and his prick stood out from his body like a flagpole. She fought the trousers off him and renewed her efforts to remove his shirt. The buttons gave way, one or two of them clattering to the shiny wooden floor. She pulled the shirt back over his shoulders and, with a sudden movement, tightened it around him so that his arms were trapped.
Momentarily helpless, he made one last violent assault at her thong, pressing unbearably into her open groove. She felt her labia swell round the biting fabric as it produced thrilling sensations. She bit her lip and managed to hold on to her victim. The thin strip of silk broke suddenly, depriving her of the thrill and the pain at the same moment. She was free of her covering and ready for him. With a wicked grin, she pushed him backwards as hard as she could, relying on surprise to counteract his superior weight and strength. He fell onto the deep, soft floor mat. With a swift movement, she straddled him. She knew nothing of wrestling, except what she had seen earlier that evening, but knew instinctively that there were ways of keeping even this large man under her subjection. She took his arms and stretched them out above his head. She let her full body weight hold him down while her legs worked to capture his erection between her thighs. She squeezed gently at first, but increased the pressure as she felt him respond. She felt the insistent throbbing against her inner leg and her own juices begin to flow as she maintained her hold on him.
She released his prick and, gently, pushed one knee against his balls. He gasped and she pressed harder. His eyes were closed and he began to pant. The pain he was feeling must be quite exquisite and could lead to only one conclusion. Sensing this, Shoanna stopped the pressure. There was a long way to go before she could allow him any relief. Besides, she had her own needs to consider. She stood up, looking down at this magnificent man lying beneath her. His eyes opened and he looked up at her.
‘What are you doing? For heaven’s sake, woman.’ She smiled a smile that proclaimed her power. Slowly, she lowered herself over his face until she was kneeling, her own throbbing ache of desire poised above his mouth.
‘Lick,’ she commanded. ‘Suck me.’ She put her hands on his chest, pressing down hard with her knees on his muscular shoulders. His tongue darted into her folds, seeking the hard bud that he knew would drive her to distraction. He reached for it and, secure that he could now beat her into a submission, began to tease and cajole the tiny, sensitive place. He flicked until she was aching with desire for something more and she moved to allow the pleasure to penetrate deeper. She leant forward until she was lying across his body. Ensuring that he was able at every moment to continue his duty to her, she reached his cock and took the throbbing tip into her own mouth. He stopped his own movements and she withdrew. As soon as she felt his tongue working once more, she began to suck him. They matched each other perfectly, their tongues darting, pulling at their own tasks. She scraped her teeth gently along the length of his shaft and he groaned. His teeth gently nibbled at her engorged clitoris, causing her to moan in turn. She released him as she did so and he immediately stopped his ministrations.
The game continued for several minutes, each of them bringing the other almost to the point of no return, stopping only to prolong the exquisite torture. Shoanna sensed the imminence of Andreas’s orgasm and pushed herself off him, leaving him groaning at the loss.
‘Damn you, woman. Come back here immediately,’ he begged. He lay there, virtually helpless from his desire for fulfilment. His cock stood straight, angry red, engorged as it was, waiting for its one relief. She stood over him, her own legs apart so he could see her glistening slit, waiting for its own fulfilment. She dropped to the ground and wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling his muscles hard beneath her thigh as he resisted her pressure. She clamped her ankles together and pressed even harder on his belly. She could feel a heavy pulse throbbing against her inner thigh. It was exciting, stimulating.
Suddenly, he relaxed his resistance. She rubbed herself along his bony hip, her sex lips open wide to feel the greater sensations. She squeezed and squeezed until she felt his final explosion, spraying over her leg as she all but squeezed the breath out of him. The tension broken, she found her own release, her juices spilling onto his body. She slid her leg out from under him and lay panting for several seconds. He rolled over and gazed at her, his eyes still hazed from the effects she had brought about. He smiled lazily.
‘You will have to be punished for all of that. How dare you prevent me from coming deep inside you?’
‘But I thought you were enjoying it that way?’ she said with some surprise.
‘Oh, I did. Believe me, I did. I think, though, I shall enjoy punishing you even more. And, somehow, I think you will enjoy it too.’
Grim-faced, Andreas rose to his feet. He pulled her roughly from the ground. Entering into the spirit of the game, she pretended to be afraid of her punishment. He dragged her slowly across the room to a large, built-in cupboard, and slid the doors back to reveal a rack of clothes hanging inside. Still holding her arm in a vice-like grip, he used his other hand to slide the garments along the rail until, satisfied, he pulled out a hanger.
The garment he selected was made of the softest grey leather, the pieces held together with silver studs. There were several zips, strategically placed, and the whole was designed to be held in place by a complex series of straps and buckles.
‘This will do,’ he said. He let go of her arm and began to wrap the soft leather around her. She stood meekly, waiting. Her heart was beating a tattoo inside her chest and her breath was uneven as she almost panted in her anticipation. This garment was virtually identical to the one in her fantasy; the one she would wear if she really did try wrestling.
Her arms were pushed into long sleeves, fastened with zips running the entire length. There were rings hanging from the cuffs, one for each of her fingers and thumb. Her hands felt constricted by them and her arms seemed almost immobilised. The neck was high and fastened with a clip at each side, sliding into place with a satisfying click. Buckles held the front and back of the garment at the sides, leaving tantalizing gaps of bare flesh. The tight sleeves prevented her from reaching the buckles, taking away all control over when she wore it or removed it. The feel of the soft leather against her bare flesh was wonderful. The scent of it washed through her senses and she felt positively weak from desire.
Andreas turned her round and began to pull the buckles tight until she felt she could hardly move at all. Her generous breasts were cruelly squashed into cups far too small for her, and the zips began to chafe. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever worn. When he was satisfied with his efforts with the main side straps, he pulled the heavy, thick waist belt together and fastened it on the very last hole.
She was watching in one of the mirrors, and could see her waist being pulled in very tightly, visibly getting smaller, until she looked as curvaceous as any of the voluptuous women of the old masters. She loved what she saw. She stood rigid, her legs slightly apart, staring at her reflection. The leather clung to her like a second skin. It was very short, barely covering the triangle of hair at the top of the long, naked legs. The entire area between her legs was left deliciously free of covering. Anticipation made her hot and wet and she awaited his ministrations with impatience.
He delved into his cupboard again and produced a studded strip of leather with two small, shining padlocks at each end. She watched curiously. He came to her and, to her horror, he fixed each end of the strip to rings at the bottom of her leather suit, thus entirely covering her most sensitive area and pulling the garment firmly down. She opened her mouth to pr
otest, but he quickly covered it with his own mouth. His tongue pushed deep inside, stifling anything she might have said.
‘Punishment, remember? If you protest, speak at all without my command, the punishment of delay will be even longer. I shall throw away these keys – and then where will you be?’ he said at last. He had covered the one part of her anatomy she most wanted him to probe. All the same, it was hugely exciting. He stared at her long legs, still naked, and turned back to his treasure store. He brought out a pair of thigh length boots, high heeled and with zips running the full length down the back. He eased on one and then the other, pulling the zips slowly, to encase her shapely legs with the tight black leather. The ridiculously high heels made her straighten her back to avoid toppling over. Now, she almost reached the same height as him and stared unabashed into his darkest of brown eyes.
His eyes glinted with pleasure as he gazed on his own particular fantasy and he ran exploratory fingers along each part of her body in turn. She felt herself growing weak and shivered slightly, with pleasure, discomfort, at the intensely tight restrictions encasing her body. Andreas fingered her nipples, their hard nubs showing through the soft leather. Painfully slowly, he eased one of the zips open, revealing one breast and its taut crown. He licked it, sucked it into his mouth, and clamped gentle teeth around it. She felt she might faint with pleasure. How many men had performed this particular action? She couldn’t count, but never, never had anyone made her feel quite like this. It was as if every atom of her senses had become centred on this one small circle of sensitive flesh.