Sex Becomes Her

by Regina Cole

  “No thanks, I’m good. I’m going to say good night to Gregory and head upstairs.”

  “Oh really?” Randy looked around, tugging at the sagging bow tie at his throat. “Is there a party upstairs?”

  A better party than you know. But sorry, bud, you’re not invited. Chandler just shook his head.

  “Okay then.” Randy looked disappointed, but he wandered off in the direction of the bar.

  Chandler made his way through the thinning crowd to where Gregory was seated in the corner. He glanced around before plopping down in the chair next to his cousin.

  “The man of the hour and you’re not surrounded with well-wishers?”

  Gregory spun the glass in front of him, causing droplets to dampen the white tablecloth. “I’ve been surrounded with them all night. I just needed a breather.”

  As much as Chandler wanted to say a quick good night and run upstairs to where Eliza waited for him, he knew he had to do his duty as best man first.

  “Are you good?”

  Gregory arched a brow at him. “What do you mean?”

  Propping his forearms on the table, Chandler leaned closer to his cousin. “I mean, you look like you just got sentenced to prison instead of married. What’s the deal, man?”

  “There is no deal. Everything’s good. I’m just glad it’s done now.”

  “I didn’t figure you’d be so nervous about a wedding.”

  Gregory just shook his head, and lifted the glass to his lips. “It’s no biggie.” Draining the rest of his water, he sighed and put the empty glass back down in the center of the damp ring the condensation had left. He tilted his head toward the door, cutting his eyes toward the exit. “So, you’re following her upstairs?”

  Chandler tightened his jaw. “Is that a problem?”

  “No, man. Go have fun. We’ve all got to make our own mistakes, right?” Gregory slumped back in his chair, his gaze far away.

  “If it wasn’t your fucking wedding night, I’d cram those words down your damn throat. But as it is, I’ll let you slide. Sabrina would murder me if I caused a scene.”

  Greg sighed, looking down at his lap. “Sorry, man. I’m being a dick. Go, have fun.”

  Chandler stared at his cousin for a moment, wondering. There wasn’t a lot to do, though. He’d given Greg plenty of opportunities to talk about whatever was bothering him. You can’t force someone to share their problems.

  It was a lesson he’d learned well over the course of his own failed marriage.

  “It was a great wedding. Have a good night, man.” Chandler patted Greg on the shoulder as he stood.

  “You, too.”

  A nagging feeling dogged Chandler all the way to the door of the event hall. He passed through the air-conditioned foyer and then to the sidewalk outside. The main hotel tower rose in front of him, the promise of the night to come looming large in his mind.

  Other people could take care of their own problems. He couldn’t force anyone to accept his help. What he could do, though, was keep his promises. And he intended to.

  There weren’t as many people milling around the resort at this time of night. Chandler glanced at the screen of his phone as he waited for the elevator to ascend. Nearly eleven. It was a little surprising that Gregory and Sabrina hadn’t left yet. Of course, their honeymoon was taking place in a villa on the other side of the resort, so it wasn’t like they had a very long way to go.

  Not his problem anyway. But he really did hope that Gregory would be happy with Sabrina. She seemed like the type of woman who’d be really good for him.

  The elevator dinged and he grinned like a kid who’d just seen his Pop-Tart spring out of the toaster. He’d thought about tonight a lot during the day. Hell, he’d even planned for it. He couldn’t wait to see Eliza’s reaction to the way he’d left his hotel room.

  A TV was blaring loudly somewhere down the hall, and he was kind of glad for it. Someone else must be covering up the sounds of their own type of late-night fun. Not a bad idea, actually.

  At his door, he stood still a moment, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Why was he nervous? Was it because Eliza had done a really good job of convincing him that she didn’t want anything else to do with him after that little encounter on the nature trail? Or was it performance anxiety of some kind?

  He’d done his research. He wasn’t sure how much into this type of thing Eliza was, so he wanted to make sure they were on the same page. He’d found a really nice online community who’d welcomed his questions with open arms. They’d collectively patted him on the back for taking the steps to educate himself in the lifestyle.

  So, all that was left was to open the door and see if Eliza had bolted or not.

  He patted his pocket, then stared at the ceiling with a laugh. She had his only room key. Rapping against the door with a knuckle, he waited.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me,” he said, his hand lying against the door. “Can I come in?”

  “I’m not sure. I think I might have come into the wrong room.”

  There was a note of laughter in her voice, or was it anticipation? He jammed his hands in his pockets.

  “Oh really? That’s weird. Maybe I should come in and take a look. See if someone has tampered with the room.”

  “Shouldn’t I call Hotel Security instead?” Her innocent tone was way too over-the-top to be believed at all. “I mean, there’s some seriously disturbing sights in here. It’s actually turning me on.”

  “In that case I definitely need to see what’s happening in there.”

  Only a heartbeat later, the door squeaked open. Eliza stood there, barefoot but still dressed in her blue bridesmaid’s gown, her eyes sparkling.

  “Hi there.” She leaned against the door frame.

  “Hi yourself. Gonna let me in?”

  “I guess you do need to see the damage, huh?” She shook her head sadly and stepped aside to let him in. “It’s a shame what some people get up to in hotel rooms. You know, just because they aren’t at home they feel like they can take a perfectly nice room and turn it into an adult amusement park.”

  Chandler made his way into the room, pleased to see that his setup still looked like he’d left it. Fortunately, Brent had lent him the rental car, and an adult store was only fifteen minutes from the resort. His purchases were spread out on the desk, and the bed already bore the under-mattress restraints he’d picked up. One of the cuffs was open, as if it had been recently tested.

  The thought made his cock twitch with interest.

  “An amusement park, huh? Which ride is your favorite?” he asked as he pulled her body close. Mmm, she was soft, warm, rubbing up against him like a kitten.

  “Do you really need to ask?”

  Her hand fell on his pec, then traced downward, over his abs. She bent down and then kneeled in front of him, her hand massaging his groin through the dark fabric of the tuxedo pants he wore. Her fingertips traced his shaft, then lower, her palm cupping his balls and squeezing ever so slightly. He watched as she stared at him, her mouth working as she massaged him erotically.

  “Well, if you want to get on, all you have to do is say so.”

  She grinned, lowering his zipper. “Didn’t you know? The longer you wait in line, the better the roller-coaster ride is.”

  16

  The shock she’d felt when she’d seen what he’d done to the hotel room had quickly turned into interest. No, interest wasn’t the right word. Lust. Passion. Want. Hunger. Her body went hot, then shivered, pulses fluttering through her breasts and belly as she examined each item he’d left for her.

  Paddles. Floggers. A blindfold. Cuffs already prepped and ready. Massage oil that was scented like suntan lotion. He’d thought of everything.

  She wanted to show him just how grateful she was. He could have taken the information she’d given him and spread it around, made other people think she was a freak. He hadn’t. He’d kept his promise.

  His zipper rasped softly as she lo
wered it. Acutely aware of his gaze on her, Eliza moved slowly, much more slowly than she truly wanted. With agonizing care, she delved into the flap of his boxer-briefs, her fingers curling around his hot, hard length. His throat worked as she gripped tighter, maneuvering the head free of the cottony confines.

  “You’ve got a beautiful cock.” She let her words blow breath over the swollen head, smiling when a crystal drop appeared at the slit.

  “Thank you for the compliment.”

  “I think I can do better than compliment, though.” Rising a bit higher, she opened her mouth and took him in. The warm, salty taste of that drop slid over her tongue. His hips jerked slightly as she took him deeper. Her fingers curled around the base of him, and when she started a rhythm, her mouth and hand worked in tandem to please him.

  His knees bent, his breathing becoming deeper and more ragged as she sucked him. Eliza closed her eyes and concentrated on the taste, the feel of him. His cock was silky, thick, and just the right length for her. He liked it when she took him deep, swallowing and compressing the head of him with her throat. His moans told her that. But she didn’t know just how close he was until he gently gripped her hair and stepped back.

  “That’s too good, you’ve got to stop.”

  Eliza ran a thumb across her lower lip. It was wet, a little swollen. Nice.

  “If you don’t want me to keep going, then what do you want to do?”

  He pulled her to her feet and turned her around wordlessly. The zipper of her dress stuck at the ruched waist, and Chandler cursed as he fumbled with it. But eventually he won against the zipper, and her dress fell to the floor around her bare feet. The air-conditioned breeze made her shiver, but his warm hands made her shake with something much more powerful than a chill.

  He massaged her waist, then brushed higher until he was cupping her breasts. Eliza arched her back and bit her lip as he pinched and rolled her nipples through the strapless bra she still wore. It was good, but his touch on her skin would be so much better. As if he was reading her mind, he unfastened the front clasp of her bra. It fell atop the blue chiffon puddle of her dress.

  Wearing nothing but a thong now, Eliza stepped forward as Chandler led her over to the bed. There was a cuff on either side of the pillows, and another on each side of the foot of the mattress. The black straps disappeared beneath the mattress.

  “Sit down,” Chandler said, and she did. “Lie on your stomach.”

  Her nerves tensed with anticipation, but she did as she was told. Spreading her arms and legs out in an X, she waited for him to cuff her. She knew it was coming, it was obvious. But what she didn’t know was just how much she was looking forward to it. She’d dreamed of doing stuff like this for a very long time. Her fantasies were so well-developed that she’d even confessed her most private ones to Tyler. But he’d never been interested in doing anything like this. So when the Velcro made a ripping sound as it opened, rustling slightly as Chandler placed the cuff on her wrist, Eliza’s moan was real.

  “Are you okay? Is it too tight?”

  She shook her head vehemently. “No, it’s good.”

  He repeated the operation on her other wrist, and now she was bound. Logically, she knew it wouldn’t be that difficult to remove the Velcro and free herself if she really needed to, but that wasn’t the point. The fact that she was now Chandler’s prisoner, and he held total control of her for the moment, by her own choice, made her shake with need.

  “Now bring your knees beneath you. I want you on your hands and knees when I spank you. I’ll cuff your ankles later. Understood?”

  “Yes,” Eliza said as she began to move. But a sudden light smack on her bottom startled her, and she yelped.

  “That’s ‘yes, sir’ to me for now.”

  “Yes, sir.” Her voice was small, but the light, stinging feeling on her bared ass cheek was incredible. Her pussy set up a steady, hungry throb as she waited for him, facedown, on her knees.

  Would he use a flogger first? A paddle? His bare hand? God, she wasn’t sure which she wanted more. She wanted it all. His hands pulling her hair, the sound her ass would make as he struck it, the gentle exploration of her body when he was ready. Not when she wanted it, but when he wanted to give it to her.

  She wiggled her ass in the air as if she could beg him to move faster. To start this delicious punishment already. She’d waited so long, longer than he knew. Surely he could tell how much she wanted this.

  “Eliza. I will give you what you want. But if it’s too much, then you have to tell me. If you don’t agree to this, then it stops now. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” She turned her head to look at him. He’d removed his shirt and tuxedo pants, standing there only in his black boxer-briefs. He’d tucked his erection back into them. That was a shame. But the black cotton didn’t exactly hide his generous size. The memory of how he’d felt thrusting into her distracted her for a moment. Then she looked back up at his face, and realized he was speaking.

  “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  He just smiled. “I said if it’s too much, just say red. Like a stoplight. If you’re starting to get uncomfortable, but you want to keep trying just softer, then say yellow. Otherwise, I’ll assume we’re on green. Do you understand and agree?”

  His instructions were oddly formal, but it fit with the scenario they were partaking in, so Eliza didn’t mention it.

  “Yes, sir. Now may I please have my spanking?”

  “You may.” His palm landed briskly on her left cheek, staying there and massaging the sensitive skin after the blow. Eliza gripped the covers beneath her hands, pulling slightly at the cuffs. The sting seemed to leave her ass and pool straight in her pussy, kicking the throb there into high gear.

  A tickling feeling began at the backs of her knees, soft kisses of touch. She pushed her hips backward, trying to figure out what that feeling was. It sent a spear of want straight into her chest. The tickle raised higher, across the backs of her thighs, then disappeared for a moment. She didn’t have a long time to be disappointed about it, because then the tickle became a light sting across her cheeks.

  Slowly at first, left cheek, then right, rhythmic, over and over and then she realized what was happening. That flogger. He was twirling it like an expert, like the ones she’d seen in videos when she was desperate for some sexual satisfaction and the only way she could get it was Internet porn and a vibrator. Over and under, back and forth, the pressure varying as he maneuvered it.

  With each smack, she breathed. Wetness flooded her body, begging for him to take her. Her hips moved on their own, back and forth, meeting each of his strokes as if it was his cock and not a small flogger.

  Her body was in his control, and it was thrilling.

  But then the flogger dropped lower, strands tickling her pussy through the damp silk thong. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide as she stared at the covers beneath her.

  “Would you like me to spank you here?” A gentle flick of the flogger against her nether lips wrenched a cry from Eliza. Her brain was a fog of red, of want and hunger and an almost animalistic urge to bring him inside her. But on the other hand, that felt amazing.

  It wasn’t a choice.

  “Spank my pussy, sir. Please.”

  He couldn’t deny that he’d wondered how this would go. If he’d enjoy it, or if he’d just do it because it was something she wanted. But now? With her ass pointed directly at him, her moans and cries coming like soft morning rain over him, the scent of her arousal wrapping around his cock and drawing him closer?

  Now he knew exactly how this would go. It’d be amazing for them both.

  “Please spank my pussy, sir,” she repeated herself because he hadn’t moved since she answered. Spreading her thighs wider apart, she moaned.

  Chandler’s free hand dropped to his groin, palming his painfully hard cock. The other hand held the flogger, and he used it to tease the darkened silk between her thighs.

  She was so w
et for him. Because he’d cuffed her, and spanked her, and made her call him sir.

  He wanted to plunge inside her right then and there, but he’d wait. They hadn’t made it through the line to the roller-coaster ride yet.

  “I’m going to take your panties off.”

  He waited a moment, but she said nothing, so he ran his fingers beneath her waistband and rolled the fabric down. With no warning, he pressed a kiss to her bare pussy. She gasped.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, then licked the seam of her, collecting her honey on his tongue. She was sweet, heady, and she tasted like woman.

  Tossing her panties aside, he then removed his own underwear. He picked up the flogger and examined his target. A single strip of hair crowned her, but her lips were smooth, either shaved or waxed. Beautiful. He put his thumbs on either side and spread her wide to his gaze.

  “What—What are you doing?” Her voice was halting.

  “I’m looking at you.”

  “Why? Is something wrong?”

  Chandler fought the urge to laugh, sure that she’d take the sound the wrong way. “No. I think you’re incredible. And I’m going to spank you now, because you asked for it.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Those three words moved him into action. He picked up the flogger, his other hand keeping her labia spread. He wanted to see her clit. Each flick would tease her, make her want him more.

  The first gentle strike of the flogger on her sensitive skin had her bucking against the cuffs. The second drew a strangled scream from somewhere deep in her throat. By the third, she was almost crying, begging him for more. Her pussy was swelling, glistening with her response right before his eyes. It was mesmerizing, incredible. He wanted to feel her heat as he sank into her there, deeply, her soft, wet heat welcoming him in.

  “Please,” Eliza sobbed as he flicked her clit over and over with the flogger. “It hurts, it’s so good, I can’t—I—God, Chandler, please—”

  “Tell me what you want,” Chandler said, flicking just a little harder, careful not to go over the line of intolerable pain. He wanted to keep her in that space, that safe space that felt dangerous, that dark threshold of pain and pleasure. He was beginning to understand this now. The feeling of control, the exchange of power, the trust. She trusted him to give her pleasure. It was a feeling that intoxicated him.