by Cara North
“Wait here?” He followed her across the hall and into her room. He had reasoned with her that staying with him was not only beneficial for them professionally and personally, but it just made sense to move her stuff in across the hall and save on rent for a place she wasn’t really living in. How could she argue with that? When she tried to offer an argument he had cut her off and insisted.
Frankie stepped into the closet and shuffled through the hangers until she located the one closest to the movie prop. “This should work.”
“You own one of these?” He arched his eyebrow.
“A few actually.” She laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. I own an entire mini-wardrobe of clothing from a variety of eras. I had a thing for costumes in grad school.”
“This…is a distracting revelation. One that must be addressed…soon.” He was serious. The heat in his eyes indicated the battle between work and play.
“Well, let’s conquer the corset first and then we can discuss playing with other things.” Frankie slid her hand into his and tugged him towards his bedroom. “You have a bigger doorway to hold onto.”
His brow arched again.
“Step one, is understanding the laces, so don’t get too excited…yet.” She sizzled with her own excitement. They were moving into a new phase of things. Her job and her life with him were coming together organically. She knew at some point she would have to stop being his assistant though she doubted she would stop doing the work. She had taken some time to explore other options for teaching. Online education was opening new doors for people in her precarious situation.
Once he understood how to undo, pull, and tie the laces, he was eager to attempt the methods with the corset on her body.
“In order for the laces to work she will have to hold on to something. It’s why you see those pictures and old movies with a girl hanging on to a bed post.” Frankie removed her shirt and bra and clasped the front of the corset. “Ready?”
He nodded. His entire body oozed sexual prowess. Like a panther ready to launch onto an unsuspecting target he moved forward.
“You know, if you use that expression I don’t think anyone will care what your hands do.” Frankie tried for a laugh but ended with a gulp. She had seen several of the faces he made when he was getting wound up for sex. This expression was new. Darker. Seductive, but hinting at danger. She shivered in delight.
“Grab the door,” he commanded. His voice thicker than usual, deeper.
She immediately moved to hold onto the door frame. He stepped closer with slow purposeful steps. His fingers hooked the baggy sweatpants she had been wearing and stripped them down her legs. “Step out.”
Now in panties and the corset she thought for sure he was going to practice the laces. He didn’t. He traced his fingers along her legs upwards until he touched the silk panties trimmed in lace. She had only put on the sweats while he was at work and changed out of them before he got home. It had been a week since they had fucked. He was busy, she was patient, but always dressed and ready by the time he got home, just in case.
“Odd choice of underwear considering the outfit.” He slid his fingers under the lace and traced the band from her hip to the seam of her ass where he hooked his finger and slid the panties down a fraction of an inch by tugging at the crotch. “You’re already getting wet Frankie and I haven’t really touched you.”
“Yes…Sir.” She gulped. It would either edge him on or she would be mortified for wanting it.
He rubbed his knuckles along the outside of her warm pussy and breached the fold just enough to make her gasp.
“You like that?” he asked. His voice thick, heavy.
“Yes,” she said.
“Yes who?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
He placed his lips against the small of her back and removed his fingers from her panties. He stood, grabbed the laces and began masterfully cinching the corset around her. She held onto the door as he pulled, gasped for breath as the material closed in and restricted her breathing. It would settle, ease up, but the first few moments were brutal. Once he had tied the laces she could feel the strings touching the top of her ass, tickling. He would roll those up and tuck them if it were part of an outfit.
She stood, adjusting to the breathing. She never heard him move across the soft carpet, until the whisper of his dresser drawer caught her attention.
She moved to let go and he said, “Don’t let go. And don’t look. Just wait… and wonder what I have planned for you.”
Frankie had dabbled a bit in role play, but never quite found it suited her. Of course, she was the dominant one. She would never have let herself be vulnerable with anyone else. She wondered if this was something Jonas had done before. He seemed too unscripted. Making it up as he went along. She liked that. To think this was something only they had done together. That he was willing to go there, with her.
His lips, unexpected, pressed against her neck. One hand moved up to remove her glasses. He was gone the next instant. The black, silk fabric came into fuzzy view before it covered her eyes. “Give me your hands.”
Her heart thumped. Anticipation, excitement, a little bit of uncertainty all rushed through her as she lowered her arms from the grasp on the door frame.
He pulled them to rest behind her, clasped in one of his hands. Then she felt the next silky tie wrap around her wrists. He never asked if it was too tight, too loose, or showed any concern for her comfort. He left her there, standing like that for what seemed an eternity, but was probably just a few moments. She heard the ruffling of clothes, the zip of his pants. Everything heightened, louder. The plush carpet under her bare feet reminded her that the moment he stopped fiddling with things she would not hear his approach. Her heart accelerated, the anticipation as much a turn on as the ties.
His nose pressed near her ear and he inhaled deeply. “I love the way you smell, Frankie.”
A shiver of carnal delight slid down her spine.
His finger traced her face from her ear, along her jaw, and then teased her lips. Frankie opened, tried to capture, but he kept pulling back.
“I love your lips, Frankie. I thought I would never get to kiss you. To feel this soft, smooth flesh…” He let his finger pull down her lower lip just a fraction before his lips covered hers.
The kiss was soft, gentle, his tongue slid into her mouth and caressed, teased, explored. He pulled back slowly and let his lips slide across hers before saying, “It was torture.”
“I’m…sorry...Sir.” Frankie wasn’t sure what to say.
“You should be,” he whispered. The next instant he had his hand clasping the tie behind her back and tugging her to walk backwards to wherever he led her. “Down.”
“Sir?” she asked. Her pulse was wild. She wasn’t sure where this was going. She had to trust him. She had to really trust that he would not hurt her.
“On your knees.” He let go of the tie and placed a hand on top of her shoulder exerting a slight pressure to encourage her to do as he said.
Her unsteady legs moved her body to a kneeling position.
“Now you can feel a fraction of the way it felt for me to wait.”
Frankie hoped he was kidding. She really hoped he was going to touch her again soon. Let her loose. The corset was smothering all of a sudden, too tight, she tried not to strain against the breaths. The tie at her wrists was tight, too tight. The darkness too much. She couldn’t hear him. She was sure he had left her there as some twisted form of revenge. She struggled to move her shoulders and work loose the tie at her wrists.
“Is it too tight?” he asked.
Frankie stopped. He was there, watching her. “Yes…no… I don’t know.”
“You feel helpless, confused, vulnerable?” he asked. She could feel his presence near her, smell the warmth of his body, the scent of his soap.
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Yes who?”
“Yes, Sir.” Frankie licked her dry lips and tried to control h
er breathing.
“You don’t like it do you?” He traced her lips with his thumb as the rest of his hand cupped her cheek.
“Not when you’re away, Sir. I don’t mind when you’re close.” The admission revealed to her physically what he had been dealing with emotionally.
He pulled the blindfold up so she could see. He was in his briefs, not turned on by the look of them. “Now, we can play.”
“Jonas.” She looked up at him. “I…”
“Me too.” He frowned. Maybe he hadn’t intended to punish her like that. Again, it seemed to be something he was coming up with as he went along. He moved closer and began pulling the pins she had in her hair securing the bun. He let the strands fall loose and then looked down at her. “How do I get this down without pulling your hair?”
“If you figure that out you can patent it and make millions. Just grab the band and try to loosen it as it goes.” Frankie clenched her teeth as he found the elastic band and began pulling it away from the base of her head. He was as gentle as he could be, but it still pulled.
“You don’t wear your hair down enough. I like it up, but only because I want to watch you pull it down, like you did the night we went to the award ceremony,” he said as her hair fell in a mess around her shoulders. He rubbed the muscles and then slid his hands down to her wrists. He untied the bind on one hand but pulled it to her front and said, “Oh, I’m not setting you free just yet.”
She placed her wrists together and he re-tied them. “Better?”
“Yes, sir,” she said and rolled her shoulders forward and back in relief.
“Good.” He grabbed the tie and said, “You’ll like it this time.”
He tied the silk tie around her eyes again.
“Stand up,” he commanded and then assisted her in doing so. “Do you want to know what I’m going to do to you?”
“Yes, sir,” Frankie whispered.
“First.” He leaned in close enough she could feel his lips against her neck then against her ear as he whispered. “I’m going to lay you on the bed. Then, I’m going to put your arms up over your head, and you’re going to keep them there until I tell you it’s okay to move them.”
He guided her back a few steps and then eased her back on the bed. She moved her arms immediately over her head. She was not laying long ways, her knees were bent at the edge of the bed and her feet hung just above the carpet.
He touched the tops of her breasts, slid his hands between them and the corset to tease her nipples. Her breath hitched, the constraint made her aware she needed to control her breathing. Her thighs tensed, clenched. Her legs moved closer together in an attempt to ease the desire building there with each pinch, stroke, and…lick. She gasped, called out, “Jonas.”
“You keep squirming around. Try to lay still.” He pressed a large palm against her abdomen. His fingers right at the band of her panties. “You wore these for me? Even though you had on sweats, you wore pretty panties?”
“I always change out of sweats or pajamas before you come home,” she admitted.
He chuckled. “You should just take them off and greet me like this from now on.”
“Yes, sir,” she gasped as his fingers slid below the band and over the swollen wet folds of her sex.
He slid his middle finger through, lower, and then into her thrusting deep. She wished she could get a better foothold on the side of the bed. She wanted to keep his finger there, desperately. He withdrew the touch completely and she groaned in protest.
“Open,” he whispered and kissed the shell of her ear. Her lips parted and he inserted the same finger into her mouth. She wasn’t opposed to her own taste. She was just surprised at the gesture. “Suck.”
He pushed and pulled his finger in and out of her mouth. She sucked hard, nipped the tip with her teeth as he removed it.
“Teeth, huh?” He licked her neck, then pulled a small section of flesh between his lips and nibbled, sure to mark her. He slid down her body. She could feel his breath along her thighs. His fingers slipped into the band of the panties and tugged them down and off. “Open.”
She moved her legs wider apart. She could not see what he was doing. She knew he was there, could feel his arm against her knee. He grabbed her knees with his hands and pulled her closer to the edge of the bed. “Look at this pretty, pink pussy. I wonder what I should do to it first? Maybe this.”
Frankie forced her hands to remain above her head. He had pushed his finger back into her core and began rubbing her in the way he knew would make her wild.
“Be still.” He nipped her thigh.
“I can’t.” She gasped as he pushed another digit inside.
“You can.” He pulled both fingers from her.
“Fuck!” She practically growled.
He teased her entrance with slow circles. “I have all day.”
“I’ll be still, sir.” She practically growled it.
“That’s better.” He let her feel the warmth of his breath on the outside of her lips before using his fingers to open her folds and closing his mouth over her clit.
It was impossible to remain still. She tried, fought every urge to twist, lift, arch, clench, and move her hands to grab him. He tormented her with licks, sucks, nips that brought her close to the edge and then released before letting her climax. She fisted the sheets, pulled. She begged him to let her come. Promised him she would do anything, anything he wanted her to do.
Behind the blindfold her eyes opened, her body stilled. He had made one slight adjustment and pressed against the tight bud of her ass. She had seen this in porn, and as adventurous as she may have felt, she had never gotten this far before. She gasped. He moved his mouth over her clit again and suddenly it didn’t feel so bad anymore. The motion easy, exploring, just a finger was enough to remind her of how tight the hole was. She understood immediately why a man would want to go there.
It wasn’t until she started to come, until her hips pressed against his thrusts she realized how intense it was going to be, how shallow he had pressed into her. At some point it was no longer an embarrassing concern, it was pleasure, new, pressure unknown. If he wanted this, she could give it to him. She trusted him. He wasn’t judging her. The moment she surrendered the last shreds of inhibition the orgasm swept through her in a long hard wave. It sapped her breath, electrocuted her from the inside out. She was limp, boneless, a twitching mass of flesh.
And then she heard the slide of the drawer, the tear of a wrapper, the flip of a cap. She gulped. He was not finished with her. Her heart kicked into overdrive. If a finger felt like a cock, a cock was likely to feel like… “Jonas.”
He pulled the buckles on the front of the corset until her lungs could breathe freely. After opening the front completely he asked, “Better?”
She nodded and took another deep breath. She had to relax. She absolutely had to relax. The cool gel caused her to gasp. The unfamiliar feeling of his cock pressing firmly, unyielding against the tight ring of muscles.
“Breathe, relax. Trust me,” he whispered. He propped one of her feet on the edge of the bed. She realized it was to free up a hand the moment his fingers slid over her clit. The tingle, the heat, all spread through her again. Relaxing her body, reminding her of how good it could feel once he was past the tight ring of muscles.
She breathed, she relaxed, he slid in, the initial pain subsided and then he slid farther. Like a switch, the moment the head was past the boundary everything turned from unfamiliar pain and pressure to indescribable pleasure.
“God, you feel good.” He was breathless. He leaned down over her and captured her lips for a tongue tangling kiss and slid farther into her. He stilled a moment. “My legs are trembling.”
“So are mine.” She gulped.
He pushed up and then pushed the blindfold up so she could see him. “Give me your hands.”
He untied the tie binding her. She was able to touch him now, to see his blue eyes storm with the desire he was feeling. He pressed
into her slowly, they gasped at the same time. Her hands held his back, his waist.
“It’s okay. I like it.”
Maybe he just needed permission to keep going. He gripped her harder and then began to move in and out of her as though he were making love to her front rather than back entry. It wasn’t long before he was shaking like a leaf from head to toe.
He whispered, “I’m going to come,” against her throat.
Frankie slid her hand between them and swirled her fingers against her over sensitized clit. It didn’t take much, the new sensations coupled with his reactions to form one heady dose of excitement. She came within moments. His eyes snapped open and locked on hers as he came, silently, blissfully. She was sure he could feel the tension of each pulse just as she could.
She half expected him to pull out immediately, but he collapsed on top of her instead. He still shook, she could feel it. He practically vibrated. “You okay?”
He nodded, slowly he began to withdraw. He whispered, “That was intense.”
“I’d never done that before,” she admitted quietly. “I didn’t know what to expect, but I wouldn’t mind doing it again if you wanted to.”
He smiled against her neck and planted a kiss there. “Definitely.”
He finally disengaged them. He rolled to his back and made a contented sound. ‘I’ve always wanted to do that, but I was never comfortable enough to suggest it.”
“We can give anything a try, as long as it doesn’t hurt either one of us, we can give it a try.” Frankie turned her head to look at him. He was spent. His body still twitched at random. “But right now I think we should give the shower a try.”
Chapter Eleven
He said he was on his way home and he had a surprise for her. Frankie remembered that he told her she should greet him in the buff instead of bothering to get all dressed up. They had wrapped early for the day and she had time to seduce him before going to have dinner with his family, as long as traffic didn’t ruin her plans. He had a surprise for her, and she had a surprise for him.
***