by Jaye Peaches
“Sorry, I need to check these voice messages.” He picked up the handset and dialed a number, listening to the voice at the other end. His face furrowed.
“Something wrong?” I asked, pouring the hot water into two mugs.
“I have to ring my brother in Germany.” He dialed again.
Listening to Stefan speak his other mother tongue, I could tell he had no difficulty switching between the two languages. He spoke quickly, with increasing exasperation, which even I could recognize. His voice rose and fell, the tone hardened, and he snapped a few words. The pacing up and down added to my inference. He wasn’t on good terms with his brother. The heated call ended with Stefan snarling into the handset.
I hadn’t understood a word he’d spoken. I wanted to crawl into a kitchen cupboard. My presence had become an unnecessary intrusion into another part of his life. I pretended to make a big deal about making his coffee.
A deep sigh filled the space between us.
“Problems?” I inquired, trying to keep the curiosity out of my voice.
“Nothing to concern you,” he said sharply. Another sigh. “Sorry, that was rude. Family matter.”
“Sure,” I said with a shrug, but his annoyance hit hard. What didn’t he want to tell me?
He wandered over to where Nettie lay in her case on the piano stool. He flicked the catches and opened the lid. “Put her together.” He pointed at my instrument.
I placed my half-drunk coffee on the worktop. “If you’d like me to play for you.”
He waved his hand at the clarinet. “Practice time.”
The change in subject lightened the air between us. I swiftly put Nettie together and twisted the joints into line. “What do you want me to play?”
“The solo from Espagnole.”
I went to fish out the music from my case, and he tapped my arm. “You don’t need the music. You’ve played it enough to know it by heart.”
Possibly. It wouldn’t do me any harm to find out.
“Also. Take off your clothes.”
“What?” I straightened and went rigid.
A tiny smirk passed over his face as he witnessed my discomfort. “Humor me. In any case, it will do your confidence a world of good.”
“Or your cock.” I jabbed the end of my clarinet at his crotch.
He laughed. “No, seriously. If you can play with no music, in the nude, just imagine how easy it will be buried in the midst of an orchestra. You’ll think it a cinch.”
“Thrill you, too,” I persisted.
“Now, adding in a blindfold would certainly enthrall me.”
I took a step back, clutching Nettie to my heaving chest.
“Take your clothes off, Mausi.” He spoke super softly. A tantalizing, irresistible tone, which made my pathetic, needy clit buzz with excitement. I knew what would follow my little performance. He wouldn’t deny me a reward, would he?
I put the clarinet down on the piano and, with trembling fingers, peeled away my cotton top. The jeans hugged too well—I had to tug at them. Stefan had stepped back, giving me space, but he watched me, hawk-like. The hardest part was removing my knickers. My fingers went stiff and a sense of paralysis crippled me. I tossed my panties to one side and covered my tits with one arm and cupped a hand over my mound.
“Pick up your clarinet.”
His instruction forced me to expose myself fully. I held Nettie tightly, wishing she could speak to me, reassure me.
I would have to play loud to cover up my pounding heartbeats, breathe deeply to stop my lungs panting into the clarinet. My legs would have to be planted on the heated floor to stop them shaking. I mentally prepared myself.
Humiliated? Perhaps, a little. Intrigued by his request—most definitely.
The black blindfold appeared almost magically from a pocket, which made me think he’d planned this little show sometime earlier in the day—after the bath?
He sauntered behind me and placed the cloth around my eyes. “You’re safe, but I’d rather decide when you get to take it off.”
Blackness descended. My adrenaline levels shot up and flooded my belly with a multitude of tiny butterflies. He gently grasped my elbow and guided me to what must have been the middle of the room, away from the piano. “You’re facing the window. Don’t worry, we’re not overlooked.”
I dredged up a lungful of air, put Nettie in my mouth and started my solo passage.
I stumbled over my notes, badly. Nervousness wrecked my performance. He must have been watching me somewhere in the room as I blustered discordantly to a whimpering conclusion. All I could think about was my skinny, pale body and my pointed elbows sticking out. Nothing pleasing about that.
“Callie. Do it again, and this time concentrate on the music. You look incredible.”
Words of encouragement. I needed them. I let Nettie slip out of my mouth and took a moment to compose my shattered nerves. Why was this so difficult? Nobody but Stefan to watch, and he’d seen me naked plenty. I reminded myself that what Stefan and I had in common was our passion for music.
I fingered Nettie’s keys. I focused on the muscles in my throat—they needed to relax to improve my tone. Next, my diaphragm and stomach muscles—they had to work harder. I stood straighter, shoulders back and elbows raised, giving my chest space to expand.
With Nettie back in my mouth, I inhaled deeply and started again.
The darkness didn’t bother me. I often played with my eyes shut and the music imprinted on the backs of my eyelids. A shimmer of light sneaked in below the blindfold and it stopped me from losing my balance. Other than that, I had no sense of where Stefan was in the room.
I sang out, trying to imagine I was in a vast concert hall and the orchestra behind me. My nudity and sense of vulnerability vanished. I became the musician and nothing else.
No applause greeted my final note, only a hot shot of breath on the nape of my neck Fuck, he was closer than I’d imagined.
“Beautiful,” he uttered in my ear.
I lifted a hand to remove the blindfold.
“No. Leave it.”
The clarinet left my other hand, and I heard the gentle clatter as he placed her on the piano. If my heart had pounded earlier, it boomed now. A rapid thundering beat against my breastbone.
“Has that little performance improved your confidence?” He’d returned to my side, brushing against me. I detected naked skin. He must have stripped quietly during my rendition.
“Yes,” I said softly.
“Prove it.”
I don’t know what came over me. I slowly pivoted around to face him. His warm breath blew over my cheek. I reached out to touch his chest and found his curly hairs. Sliding my hands down, I used them to guide me. As I sank onto my knees, his cock, upright, caught me on my descent and my chin knocked his erection.
My knees took my weight, and I cupped his soft balls in my hands. I replaced Nettie’s mouthpiece with another stiff object. This one tasted glorious, smooth, unlike a rough reed, and it filled my mouth. I drew in my cheeks and sucked him in.
I gifted him the best blow job I’d ever managed. Micah had made them feel cheap and dirty. Stefan, with scarcely any tuition on his part, had taught me patience. How to tease, use my tongue, take deep breaths and tolerate his bulbous head deep in my throat.
I worked my hands around his shaft in tandem with my mouth, drawing up his velvety skin and squeezing gently until I provoked a moan from him. A quiet murmur of delight from above my head inspired me to keep going.
He touched my coiffured hair and combed his fingers through the strands as I bobbed up and down on his delicious cock.
“Fuck,” he growled. “You’re going to make me come again.”
I went deeper.
He gasped, struggling to articulate clearly. “You don’t get to do this, Mausi. I decide…when… Do you want to be punished?” He clenched my hair tighter, stinging my scalp slightly.
I moved my hands around his body, stroking his soft body hairs
until I found his firm buttocks. I clutched each ass cheek and clung onto them. Saliva trickled down my chin. I didn’t care that I was tormenting him with my oral skills. He’d threatened me with one of his glorious punishment fucks. How could I resist that?
He shuddered, held my head steady in his hands and spurted hot cum into my mouth. I gulped down every drop then licked him clean with my feverish tongue.
He staggered backward, and my head flopped down.
I waited expectantly in the darkness for him to take me, use me. Perhaps over the sofa, or up against the wall, or maybe one more time sliding over his glass table. All I heard was… He was putting his clothes back on! I was sure I heard jeans rustling and the belt buckle jangling.
Bright lights flooded my sight. I blinked repeatedly until I grew accustomed to the daylight again. Stefan, smiling, dangled the blindfold before me. “I’m postponing your punishment fuck. I need a little recuperation time and you will stay naked for the duration.”
I gaped, eyes widening in disbelief. “You… You bastard,” I blurted. Secretly, I was being driven crazy with lust and he probably knew it. My pussy clamored for attention and I had the strong sensation of wetness below—a slick reservoir had formed between my legs. I was convinced if I stood it would trickle down. My knees ached. I’d gone from oblivion to serious discomfort.
“Let me help you up.” The pleasant smile remained on his face.
I hobbled over to the kitchen and downed a glass of cold water. Wiping the back of my hand over my lips, I continued to glare at him from across the room. He’d only put his jeans back on and had had the audacity to leave the top button undone, the leather belt hanging unbuckled and his lack of underpants on display. He flaunted his bare chest at me too.
Well, two can play that game. I swaggered over to him, swinging my hips with my best ‘this is what you’re missing’ gait.
“Mausi.” He wagged a finger at me. “Remember, I’m the fox.”
The reference to his mysterious alter ego stopped me dead in my tracks. “I have to use the bathroom.”
I splashed cold water in my face. What did he mean by that? I’d succumbed so quickly to his wicked charms, his seduction. I’d played Nettie naked for him—something he must have delighted in immensely—then I’d sucked him into a heavenly orgasm, going by what had landed in my mouth.
Those niggling doubts crept back in. He liked to be in control—that much was obvious. How far was he willing to take me? Would I be prepared to let him lead me down an unknown path or would I fall by the wayside? I didn’t want to fail him, but I also didn’t want to be his sex toy. I wasn’t a game to be played out until boredom arrived. I sought romance. Companionship. Maybe—dare I say it?—love.
I frowned in the mirror.
“Are you all right?” He rapped on the door.
“Yes,” I shouted.
“Good. Come out and join me.”
I opened the bathroom door, and he stood back to let me out. A ripple of shivers ran across my naked flesh. “I’m cold.”
“I’ve a lovely soft blanket. You can curl up in that. I’ve found a Fred Astaire movie on the telly. Don’t you just love those old musicals?” He sounded cheerful, oblivious to my concerns.
I did love old movies. I buried my fears and stepped into his spacious living room, my feet pattering on the wooden boards. He held a blanket as promised and a glass of red wine. Perhaps I was judging him too harshly. He looked fantastic, super sexy and still all mine. I would wait and he could decide when to fuck me. That was fine. I could live with that.
I dozed off, stretched out on the sofa with Stefan at one end. An afternoon nap—something I’d not done in years. Even the suave Fred couldn’t keep my eyelids open. Swathed in a fleecy, soft blanket, my feet lying on top of Stefan’s lap, the TV became a distant focal point, blurring until I slipped away.
* * * *
“Callie.”
I stirred, muttered, “Go away.”
“My Mausi, wakey, wakey.”
He kissed me awake. Little pecks on my forehead, and the bristles of his beard tickled my nose. I tried to push him off, but he lay on top of me and didn’t stop until I opened my eyes.
The film credits scrolled up the screen. I’d missed over half of the movie. I yanked the blanket up under my chin and stuck my tongue out at him. He shook his head. Previously, such a motion would have involved his tousled hair bouncing about inelegantly. Now, the dark hairs remained fixed, sculpted around his face while his goatee framed his firm lips.
He planted an elbow on either side of my head, trapping me. I swallowed. I could guess what he wanted.
“Ready for your punishment fuck?”
Suddenly, I was roasting under my thick blanket. My brain couldn’t engage my speech center. I simply nodded without really thinking. Call it what he liked, I wanted him in me.
“You’re going to go upstairs. Kneel on all fours on the bed. I’m going to take you from behind. You’re not to look at me. That is your punishment.” He spoke slowly, and his barely perceivable German accent edged into the tone of his voice.
I drew up my knees and nodded again.
He rose, releasing me from my pen. “Off you go.” He pointed at the wrought-iron staircase.
As I stood, he grabbed the blanket, pulling it away. A rush of cool air caressed my already quivering flesh. How could I feel so hot and so cold at the same time? I squished my thighs together as I climbed the stairs, trying not to show my sex to him from his vantage point below. I gripped the railing until my knuckles turned white. I didn’t look down, but I knew he was watching my slow ascent. If I hurried, my legs would give out and I would stumble.
Kneeling on all fours on the bed, I might as well have been on a stage or a platform, such was my vulnerability. The first thing he would see on entering the room would be my sex lips. I had no doubt my exposed labia would appear swollen and slick with juices. My breasts hung, aching with expectation. If he fucked me hard, my tits would swing about painfully. I anticipated it all, and the waiting made me desperately hungry for him to burst through that damn door and mount me.
The draft indicated the opening. My pulse quickened. The door clicked shut. My heart skipped a beat, and behind me, replacing the stillness of the room, his snatched breaths—fast like mine The mattress moved beneath me as he crept up behind. He grasped my hips and I jumped at his cool touch. Two thumbs pried apart my ass cheeks and he emitted a rumbling growl.
I began to lose my confidence. “I don’t think my legs will hold out. They’ve gone like jelly.” My elbows shook, refusing to lock straight. How would I stay in position?
The tip of his cock pressed between my lips, nudging my eager entrance. I rocked back, trying to impale myself on him. He eased away, reminding me that this was his show, not mine.
“Don’t worry. If you collapse, I’ll just keep going.” He shoved slightly, sampling my periphery.
I went rigid. My muscles tensed and ceased their quivering—a defensive reaction to his statement?
The grip about my waist loosened and the firm bulge of his cock slipped away. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he said gently.
I hovered, not with indecision, but the challenge of how to express my churned-up feelings. The need inside me was unbearable, bordering on the insatiable. His entire preamble—the build-up, waiting on all fours and the growl in his throat—they fed me and built my sexual appetite into a frenzy of lust. I might have gone rigid—and it impressed me that he’d noted it and had responded—but it was because I loved what he said and the implication that I was all his to do with as he wished. Scared? No. Nervous? Darn right I was, because he had expectations of me and I didn’t know if I could achieve them.
I shook my head.
“Tell me. Say it.” His voice had an urgency to it.
“Please, fuck me.” Heat rushed to my face. Asking for it brought with it a bizarre sense of shame.
“Good, Mausi.”
Th
e grip about my waist tightened once again. I braced myself. He didn’t need to aim. I must have been gaping. The force of his penetration propelled me forward and my head almost bashed into the headboard. My arms gave immediately and I crashed down onto my elbows. He’d practically knocked the wind out of me.
I had no time to recover. He withdrew to the tip and smashed into me again. My drenched pussy opened up to him and welcomed his cock deep inside until he hit my natural limits.
“Oh, fuck… I wanna come,” I wailed pathetically.
Forget Cosmo. That article was unnecessary. I would come then again and again, as long as he kept fucking me like this.
My tits shook and I buried my head into the pillow, sticking my butt up higher. I rocked back at him, meeting his plunging erection.
“Wait,” he gasped.
I didn’t have that kind of self-control. I exploded about him, clenching and contracting in waves that traveled about my body like a tsunami.
My legs, weakened by my twitching calves, gave out, just as I’d predicted. He clung onto me and drove forward to keep contact. He hadn’t been lying about his intentions. He kept fucking me, and I spread my legs wider to accommodate his thrusting hips.
He exclaimed in a mix of German and English profanity. I chewed on the pillow, gagging my futile cries. My clit chafed on the fabric of the sheet, but even in its sensitive state, I couldn’t hold back. I came again, bucking my ass up, trying to protect my tender nub from overstimulating me.
“Another, heh?”
My spasms betrayed my orgasm.
He leaned into my shoulder blades, pressing me down farther. I sucked air into my lungs and ignored the discomfort. The smacking sounds of his hips pummeling my ass cheeks echoed about the room. My flood of juices, uncontainable.
He stilled. The frantic pace ceased and he let out a cry. With a few more deliberate, slow thrusts, he completed. The heat bloomed in my belly then escaped as he withdrew.
Little by little, I returned to the bedroom. Stefan lay panting next to me and he reached out with his hand and patted my bottom gently.
I shivered and curled up into a ball, leaking onto the sheet. I didn’t care.