When I glance out the window, I can see him in the fading light, skulking in the shadows by the high fence that separates us from next door. My clit is pulsing, nerves singing as I luxuriate in the knowledge that I’ve so skillfully contrived to make him strip bare for me, just like the men in his favorite fantasies. It’s all I can do not to rub my pussy against the edge of the table in an attempt to scratch the itch.
If only he knew this was just the start.
“Okay, you can open the door now.”
“What’s wrong, Jason?” I ask. “Isn’t this what you always wanted? To be outdoors, with not a stitch on, completely exposed…”
“Yes—god, yes.” He groans. “But our guests…”
“Don’t worry, darling. The patio doors are unlocked. You can let yourself in through those.”
Briefly, he looks as though he might argue. Then the appeal of walking just that little distance in the nude becomes too much to resist. As he makes his way over to the patio, I dash into the living room to watch the show.
It obviously hasn’t occurred to him in his horny but anxious state that it’s dark enough for the security light to come on the moment he steps in range of the detectors. With the living room curtains pulled almost all the way across, the patio doors are framed like a stage. Jason’s expression as the light illuminates his stark naked body—and, I can’t help but notice, fully erect cock—is a thing of beauty. But it’s not so much the fact he’s so gorgeously showcased that alarms him as much as the realization that I’m not alone as I look out at him, grinning.
While he was in the shower, the girls arrived. For the last fifteen minutes, they’ve been sitting on the living room sofa as silently as they can, waiting for Jason to appear. I promised them a show they would never forget, but I don’t think they believed I was serious. Now Liz and Sharon and Wendy sit, squealing in shock and delight, as Jason’s hand drops to cup his cock and balls.
He reaches for the door handle, but I’m quicker. I open the door just a crack. “Now, now, Jason. Don’t cover up that beautiful thing, not when the girls are so anxious to see it. Hands on your head, or I’ll lock the door and leave you out there for a while.”
Jason has no idea whether I’m serious about carrying out the threat. To be perfectly honest, neither do I. I’ve never thought of myself as cruel, but that was before I appreciated the power that comes from being fully clothed when the man you love is naked, helpless and willing to do whatever you say. Obviously not willing to take the risk, Jason grasps his hands together behind the back of his head.
Somewhere behind me, I hear Liz murmur, “I always reckoned he was big, but… Bev, you’re such a lucky cow.”
“I’ll bring him in, so you can get a better look.” The door pulled fully open, I usher Jason inside. Despite the embarrassment he must be feeling, his cock still juts up rigidly. “Turn around, Jason. Let them enjoy the back view, too.”
Face blushing beet red, Jason does a slow circuit, so the ladies get to admire his pert asscheeks. I notice he didn’t make any objections this time; simply did as he was told. He’s submitting to me so beautifully, and the pulse between my legs beats even more strongly in response.
“I think the girls might like a drink now, Jason.” What I really need is something to cool me down or, better yet, Jason’s tongue lapping at the sticky furnace my pussy has become. If we were alone, I’d stop the game here and act on my need to be fucked, but I know Jason’s need is to put on a performance for our guests. If that wasn’t the case, he wouldn’t have scuttled over to the table, wouldn’t be pouring the mojitos into sugar-frosted glasses.
As he hands a glass to Liz, she asks him, “So how does it feel, to be completely bare when we’re all sitting here fully clothed?”
He doesn’t need to answer, not when his emotions are so clearly etched on his boyish face. We can all tell that to Jason, this feels right; that somehow it’s the natural order of things to be naked and subservient in this situation.
“Oh, he’s got to be enjoying it,” Wendy chimes in. “Otherwise this wouldn’t be so big and hard, would it, Jason?”
She reaches out and lazily trails her fingers along his shaft, all the way from base to tip, as though mentally filing its dimensions in her private wank bank, to bring out on those nights when she has only her rabbit vibrator for company. An unexpected pang of jealousy grips me, as Jason lets out a gentle hiss, taking pleasure from Wendy’s touch. Then I tell myself this is what we both want, for Jason to be used as a plaything by someone other than me. After all, when the cocktails have been drunk, the nibbles devoured and the girls are on their way home, still not quite believing they’ve been allowed to touch and tease their naked manservant, I’ll be the one who takes him upstairs and fucks him. Assuming we make it that far.
Now that the girls have realized they can touch as well as look, there’s a moment when the evening threatens to descend into a free-for-all. Sharon grabs a handful of Jason’s butt, squeezing hard, and I can’t quite be sure, but it looks like Liz is playing with his balls. They’re treating him as though he’s just an object provided for their pleasure, and he’s clearly loving it, but I can tell from the way he’s breathing he’s already on the fast track to orgasm, and the fun has barely begun.
Time to change tack, to offer him a slow, sustained torment that will keep him on the edge but not cause him to come just yet. “Ladies, help yourself to food,” I suggest. It had been my intention to make Jason fill their plates, but I need to distract them long enough to let his arousal subside just a little, before we crank the pressure up again.
I settle back in my chair, poke a carrot stick into the pool of creamy dip and lick it off. Jason’s eyes are fixed on the carrot as it disappears between my lips, going where his cock wishes so desperately to follow. Not yet, is my unspoken rebuke.
Liz sits down, sprawling back carelessly against the sofa cushions. In that position, she’s giving Jason a perfect view of her panties, a tiny white triangle promising so much. Then she crosses her legs and that glimpse of heaven is blocked off.
Between us, we keep Jason on the edge for as long as we possibly can. Once in a while, I bring the conversation back to the fact that none of us has removed so much as a sandal, while Jason is completely naked. Every time I use words like “stripped” or “bare” to reinforce my point, he can’t fail to react, body stiffening slightly. But the looks he flashes me tell me he’s loving the way I’ve taken control.
The girls are playing their parts, too, idly stroking some area of his luscious, bare physique as he refills their glasses. Liz can barely keep away from his cock, while Wendy runs her hands over the firm ridges of his stomach. Jason has never endured so much buildup without release. It’s only when Sharon glances at her watch and says, “I’ll have to call a taxi, Bev. I told the babysitter I’d be back by ten,” that I realize how much time has passed.
“That’s fine,” I tell her. “Jason just has one last thing to show you before you go.”
Taxi ordered, Sharon can once more pay full attention as I launch into my speech.
“Now, I know you’ve enjoyed having a naked male to wait on you this evening, and I’m sure you’re hoping for a repeat performance. Well, I don’t know whether we’re going to make this a regular event—” A quick glance across to Jason tells me a part of him would like that very much indeed, if only I will agree to it. “But what I do know is that Jason is more than ready to come. Do you think he deserves to?”
There’s a general chorus of agreement that, yes, he’s earned his orgasm. Liz is already shifting forward in her seat, no doubt hoping for the chance to play with him. But that’s not how all the fantasies Jason reads and rereads come to their conclusion.
“More accurately, would you like to see him take hold of that huge, hard cock of his and wank it till he comes all over himself?”
“I’d love to,” Wendy says. “We all would. But…won’t that be embarrassing for him?”
My lips curve
with barely suppressed amusement. “Darling, that’s the whole point.”
Further debate is unnecessary, if only because Jason has already grabbed his cock and is tugging at it with short, frantic strokes. If he’s aware of four pairs of eyes watching his every movement, he doesn’t say anything. He’s already moving beyond shame, beyond the knowledge that tomorrow, or the day after, he’ll bump into Liz or Sharon or Wendy in the gym and be reminded they’ve seen him perform this most intimate act. With his eyes half closed, his hand almost blurring on his shaft, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jason look so beautiful. Willingly making himself so vulnerable has only served to reveal his inner strength.
“Oh, god, Beverley, can’t hold back.” Jason sounds as though he’s on the verge of sobbing, lost in a place where none of us can follow him. “Going to—going to…”
“That’s it,” Sharon urges. “Shoot your spunk.” The words are so out of character for her, but her eyes are shining with lust and I’m sure her underwear is as soaked through as mine.
It’s all the permission Jason needs. With a string of expletives, he surrenders to the inevitable, come oozing down over his fist. He slumps to his knees, drained. I can hear hooting, and I wonder who’s congratulating him, then I realize Sharon’s taxi has arrived and its impatient driver is sounding his horn in the street outside.
The party breaks up swiftly after that, the girls thanking me effusively for the most incredible evening. As soon as I’ve closed the door behind them, I pounce on Jason, devouring him with sloppy, rum-flavored kisses. Not only do we not make it as far as the bedroom, we don’t even get out of the hall. Stripping off my saturated knickers, I push Jason to the floor and straddle his face. My skirt falls in loose folds around his head. It can’t fail to remind him that I’m still clothed and he’s still naked, just the way he likes it.
The moment his tongue makes contact with my clit, I know this is going to be fast and breathless and everything I need it to be. Grinding myself against his face, I savor the feeling of being on top, in every sense.
“So was tonight everything you’d hoped it would be?” I ask, rising up just enough to let Jason answer.
“God, yes. But next time, I want to be made to strip in front of them. Being naked when they saw me was amazing, but having to get naked for them would be even better.”
“So you think there’s going to be a next time, do you?”
“Will this help you say yes?” Jason’s tongue returns to thrumming my clit, fast little flicks that make me think of a hummingbird’s wings, beating and beating, hovering to stay still.
In the moment before my cunt seems to dissolve in liquid heat, I murmur, “Yes, Jason, we’ll do this again. But only if you’re very good.”
“Oh, I will be, Ma’am,” he promises me, and that’s when I know what I’ve exposed tonight is only the beginning.
NEW GAMES ON A SATURDAY NIGHT
Teresa Noelle Roberts
Jack woke in the hot dark, roused from sleep by one of the various sounds of a Jamaica Plain side street in the middle of the night: the distant rumble of the Orange Line train, sirens on Centre Street, a barking dog across the street, a dull hum of conversation from outside—no words, just the sound of night-owl voices.
Or maybe it was the woman curled up next to him stirring in her dreams that woke him.
Woman next to him? What the…?
He jumped, then remembered why she was there.
Neither he nor the lady in question had planned to make this an overnight date. Sexy Serena with the very spankable heart-shaped ass had planned only to come back to his place after dinner and spend a few happy hours with him filling her long-standing fantasy about having that very spankable ass spanked. They’d been working up to this point for a while, with plenty of flirting and teasing mixed with some serious talks about the pleasures and dangers of bringing fantasies to life.
As an experienced top playing with a newbie bottom, Jack had figured it would be a fun couple of hours, he’d make sure Serena was all right, she’d take a cab home and either they’d get together down the road to explore further or they wouldn’t. Just a little spanking and maybe some light bondage. Nothing more.
But that wasn’t quite how it had gone. What he’d expected to be a lighthearted session that wouldn’t exactly be a date had turned out to be far more intense—and far sexier—than he’d imagined.
It had been so long since he’d shared the thrill of a completely new game with someone sexually experienced but new to kink that he’d almost forgotten how hot it was. Serena had reminded him. A fairly mild spanking was…well, it was never dull to put a beautiful woman over his knee and turn her ass red, but he’d become accustomed to playmates who liked more exotic thrills. Single-tail whips. Play piercings. Being flogged while in inverted suspension bondage. With a lot of play buddies but no steady lover, coming up with new pleasure/pain challenges for his heavy-playing friends was part of the fun for him.
He’d almost forgotten how sensual it was to introduce someone to BDSM starting from scratch, to enjoy the simple pleasure of spanking a fine ass, to revel in her somewhat bewildered but eager enjoyment as stinging arousal built and crested. Serena might be inexperienced in terms of kink, but she was one sensuous, sexy and adventurous woman. The only reason they hadn’t been up all night experimenting was that she’d been so aroused by the initial forays into spanking they’d fucked each other senseless and then passed out.
With so many wonderful things yet to do.
Another part of him woke up at that thought, stirred; suggested that he should move closer to her, caress her awake, kiss down her warm body to the heat between her legs and lick her until she added her own noises to those of the heated night. And once she was awake, aroused and ready, figure out which of many wonderful options to do next.
Hmm, that sounded like a good idea.
No, make that a great idea.
Even if the whole start-slow-and-sensuous technique wasn’t normally his style. He considered himself a top-about-town, and his sexual encounters usually happened during or after play parties, where nipple clips and caning were the usual foreplay.
Then again, it had been a long time since he’d played with anyone who might appreciate a slower, more sensual buildup—a long time as in since his last serious relationship, which ended badly enough that he’d been happy, or to put it more honestly, safe, playing the field for the past several years. To his surprise, he realized he’d missed it.
Besides, it was fun to start slow, then work up to something wilder, then ramp down again. Did great things for a woman’s mind, as well as her body.
That was his excuse if the dom-police came calling. But right now the truth was he just plain wanted to taste Serena.
He could barely see Serena’s shape in the darkness, but Braille would work. He might not have her body memorized yet, but even though he was sure there were nooks and crannies aplenty still unexplored, erogenous zones still unaccounted for and, he hoped, kinks even she didn’t know about yet to uncover, he could find the basics.
He pulled back the sheet, licked at a bead of sweat on her spine.
And came awake enough to realize why it was so hot, and why he could hear the neighborhood chorus instead of the familiar hum of central air.
Serena shivered at his caress, stretched and rolled over to face him. “Mmm, nice. Why’s it so…” She mumbled something, and a switch apparently clicked in her brain. “Blackout or blown fuse?”
“No offense, but I hate you. You wake up much too coherent. I think blackout. Otherwise there’d be more light from outside.” He yawned, ran his hand down her body, smiled even though she couldn’t really see the smile. “Hey, I have an idea.”
“I kind of figured that.” She pressed herself against him, rubbing like a cat. “A big idea, I see.”
His train of thought, which had been moving pretty erratically at best, almost got derailed by that. She felt so good against him, so hot.
&n
bsp; But the vision in his head (sleepy as it was) was becoming a little more elaborate than just screwing Serena senseless in the dark bedroom, and it wouldn’t let him go. “A very big idea. Too big for indoors. Come on.” He got out of bed, although he swore the damp sheets were trying to hold on to him, and grabbed a few items from the bedside table.
Taking Serena’s hand, he led her out of the bedroom, through the darkened kitchen, curiously quiet without that underlying appliance hum you didn’t think about until it was gone. He took a key off a hook on the wall by the back door and then led her out. “Jack, I’m naked,” she finally pointed out, tacking on, “We’re naked,” as if his bare ass might sway him where hers wouldn’t.
“It’s three in the morning and pitch dark. Besides, you’re not naked. You’re wearing a collar. Or you will be.” He ran a narrow band of supple red leather over the curve of one glorious breast.
She drew in her breath on a sharp hiss. Her body curved forward, following the movement of the leather. Her eyes closed. “Well, as long as I’m not completely naked, then it’s all right.”
“As long as you’re wearing the collar, I want you to call me Sir. Can you do that for me, Serena?”
She giggled—nervously, he thought—but she opened her eyes very wide. “Part of me thinks that’s silly,” she admitted. “But part of me must think it’s hot because I’m about ten times wetter.”
Jack thought about his wording for a second before he answered, stroking Serena’s heated skin as he thought. “It is silly if you look at it one way, like playing let’s pretend as a kid. I’m not a knight by any stretch and while I guess you qualify as a damsel, you don’t seem to be in distress.” He trailed his fingers down her body, enjoying her squirmy reaction, and dipped them quickly between her legs. “Unless distress is a euphemism for arousal.”
“That would certainly put a different spin on knights rescuing damsels in distress.” Serena rolled her hips forward, seeking more from his questing fingers, but he pulled his hand back and used it to give her ass a quick, hard slap.
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