Mardi Gras

by Lacey Alexander

  He shrugged out of the shirt before finally undoing the last button on her blouse and urging it off her shoulders as well. She didn’t bother taking it off completely, letting the sheer gauzy fabric fall about her upper arms in a way that felt lightly—deliciously—

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  binding when she moved. Besides, it was too much trouble to pull her hands away from his finely sculpted body, half of it now bared for her.

  His kisses trailed from her mouth over her jaw, onto her neck. She arched against him, pressing her hungry cunt harder into his erection, leaning her head back to welcome his barrage of kisses. His mouth soon sank to her chest, the upper swell of her breast. Her pussy tingled and her pulse raced.

  His hands found the two sensitive mounds of flesh just below, lightly cupping the outer curves as he brushed his thumbs across her lace-covered nipples. A slight whimper escaped her as his kisses spanned the valley between, then traveled up onto the other rise. Her breasts had never felt so sensitive, like a gift she wanted to give her man.

  He dropped his touch back to her hips, her ass, helping her, because without quite realizing it, at some point she’d begun to move against him, grinding against the irresistible column of stone beneath his jeans. Oh God, at this rate, she would come soon, before the action even really got underway, which she didn’t want—but how could she resist?

  Her body was in charge now, writhing against him of its own volition.

  He nipped at the hard peak of her breast through the lace that barely covered it, and she cried out. The delectable sensation shot straight to her pussy and nearly pushed her over the edge. She moved harder against him, wanting more, more.

  His palms roamed her body oh-so lightly, his touch at once a tease and the most wonderful stimulation. She heard herself panting—him, too—and looked into his eyes to find the same fire as before, only burning hotter now. “You’re so sexy, baby,” he murmured. “So fucking sexy.”

  He framed her face with his hands and drew her in for a deep kiss that reached all the way to her soul, just as he slipped his fingers beneath her mask and began to remove it over her head.

  She pulled it back into place, yanking his fingers away. “No,” she snapped.

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  It killed her mounting pleasure, and the orgasm that had felt so near… But that was actually good, despite the frustration roaring through her body. Because she’d clearly forgotten her plan, gotten off track.

  Time to get back on.

  “Why?” he asked. “I want to see you. I want to see your face, Mina.” She shook her head, and then—as painful as it was—extracted herself from his lap.

  The move racked her body with loss, but that, too, was worth it, since his attempt to remove her mask was a wake-up call. No more letting her own desire get the best of her. Time to take control. Completely.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, rising to his feet.

  She pressed her palm to the center of his chest and pushed him back down. “Sit.”

  “What?” he murmured, looking confused.

  “You’ve been a bad boy,” she said, moving to the shopping bag she’d placed just a few feet away on her previous visit to the apartment. She pulled out one length of the heavy white rope she’d purchased and walked behind his chair. “Give me your wrists.” He cast a brief glance over his shoulder, clearly surprised, but then his expression softened as he shifted his arms behind him, through the lowest opening on the ladder-back chair.

  Mia drew in a deep breath as she placed his wrists one over the other, then began to tie him up. She purposely avoided tying him to the chair, wanting him bound but still able to move around at her will. A dart of dark pleasure pierced her chest as she wrapped the rope, tightly, over and under, wondering if it was biting into his skin, wondering if he was enjoying that.

  Even after her initial delight at hearing Ty and Jack’s conversation in the office earlier in the week, she’d never truly expected to derive any deep thrill from taking on the role of dominatrix, but already, she could tell she’d been wrong. She liked tying him 34

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  with the rope far too much, each twist of it around his wrists filling her with a sense of forbidden heat.

  When she’d knotted the rope and walked back around in front of him, his expression hovered somewhere between aroused and amused. “You know I can’t touch you like this?”

  Yes, she knew. A sacrifice, but one worth making. “That’s all right.” Then an idea hit her, a slight amendment to the plan. “Maybe I…should do it for you.” With that, she walked to the stereo system and pushed the play button to start a CD

  she’d brought over the day before. The speakers boomed with a super-sexy song that always got her hot. Above a slow, throbbing rock beat, the singer urged a woman to be his lover, promising to show her his dark secret.

  Mia had never stripped before, and even with the plethora of men’s clubs to be found just a couple of blocks away, had never seen a stripper perform live. But she was going to try to be one now, for Ty, and she was already so excited that her arousal squelched any fear.

  Turning away from him, she began to sway her hips sensually back and forth with the driving rhythm. Then she arched, leaning her shoulders back to let her transparent blouse slide from her arms and drop silently to the floor.

  Revolving, she rested against the wall, one knee bent, her arms stretched up over her head. Slowly, she drew her hands down, letting them skim sensuously over the round globes of her breasts, the flat plane of her bare stomach, then she splayed her fingers as both hands pushed down her thighs.

  “Damn, that’s hot, baby,” he said, sounding totally spellbound.

  Curling her fingers around the hem of her skirt, she met his gaze as she playfully lifted the fabric inch by teasing inch.

  “Oh yeah. That’s nice. Keep going.”

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  When the skirt rose past her lace stockings, she eased her fingers onto the flesh of her thighs, beneath the tight black garters. Gliding her fingertips upward, she lifted the skirt to her hips. She heard Ty sigh at the sight of her mound, which had gone swollen and achy now. It was a pleasure for both of them when she slipped her middle finger between her legs for one slow upward stroke over her panties. She felt it deep inside, especially when Ty purred, “Mmm, yeah.”

  Reaching behind her as she resumed her slow sway to the sexy song, she unzipped the black mini and used both hands to push it down, down, until it loosened at mid-thigh and dropped to the floor. She stepped carefully free of it, very aware of how she looked now, wearing only sexy black lingerie, ultra-high-heeled shoes, and her feathered, glittery mask.

  “Stand up,” she said.

  He rose to his feet, looking all-too-good in nothing but those pleasantly snug jeans, his hands tied behind his back. But he was about to look even better.

  Stepping up to him, Mia ran her hands down his hard, muscular flesh, from shoulder to waist, where she folded the fingertips of both hands into his jeans. Sliding them to the center, she met an astonishingly hard obstacle that made her go weak.

  “Mmm,” she said, unbuttoning the jeans, then slowly easing down the zipper. “You’re so big for me.”

  Reaching into the open fly, she ran her palm up his erection.

  He leaned his head back with a long, sexy sigh. “Aw, you’re killing me here, honey.”

  She grinned up at him. “Good. Nothing like a little torture to set the mood.” They exchanged feral looks and he bent down to sweep a hungry kiss across her mouth as she squeezed and caressed his cock through his briefs. She was awed by how large he felt and it only added to her excitement.

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  Moving around behind him, she hooked her thumbs into his jeans and underwear and dragged them down to his knees. She nearly shuddered at the sight of his tight, round ass, his wrists roped just above it.

  As he k
icked off his shoes and began maneuvering out of the denim, she ran her hands around him from behind, caressing his hard chest, his hips, the tops of his thighs—everything but the cock itself.

  He leaned his head back in frustration. “Please, baby.”

  “That’s right, lover. I want to hear you beg. Beg me.” He hesitated a moment, letting out a small growl, then said, “Please—touch me,” adding, “Come on, honey. Do it.”

  She withdrew her hands.

  “What?” he asked, clearly disturbed.

  “That sounded more like a demand than begging.” She purposely sounded miffed.

  By the time he spun to face her, she’d returned from another trip to her shopping bag, from which she’d retrieved a black leather riding crop. She stood sternly slapping it into the palm of her free hand as she gave him a look meant to quell any arguments.

  He raised his eyebrows. “You intend to use that thing on me?”

  “You’ve been a bad boy. Clearly, you need to be disciplined.” He stood looking uncertain, as if perhaps he was having second thoughts about wanting to be dominated. But given all the trouble she’d gone to, arranging all this, she’d be damned if he was going to back out now. Lifting the fringed end of riding crop to her shoulder as he watched, she slid the length of the tool along the swell of one breast, the leather braiding that circled it creating a pleasant sensation as it passed over her skin.

  As she’d hoped, the fire returned to his eyes. “Does using it turn you on?” She nodded. “Very much.”

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked, seeming ready to acquiesce.

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  “Do what I say and only that. Don’t question me or argue with me. Take what you’re given and like it.”

  She sensed the exacting command sinking into his arousal, making him want to obey.

  And for the first time in the midst of her attempted discipline, she noticed his cock.

  It was even bigger than she’d imagined. Certainly the largest specimen she’d ever had.

  The sight of it made her bite her lip with hunger as she reached out with her new leather toy. Sliding it behind his erection, she pulled it forward a bit, then removed the crop, letting the shaft slap softly against his abs. He let out a soft, quick moan.

  But she couldn’t let herself be sidetracked by his hard-on, no matter how colossal and beautiful it looked, so it was back to business. “Turn around and lean over the chair.”

  She watched Ty take a deep breath, then pivot, bending slightly at the waist, his wrists still bound behind him. “Like this?”

  “Yes, that will do. Now tell me you’ve been a bad boy.” He hesitated, so she took the opportunity to snap the crop lightly against his lovely, masculine ass, surprised at the pleasure the strike delivered…to her. “Say it,” she commanded.

  He sighed, still looking reluctant. “I’ve been a bad boy.” She smacked his ass with the crop again, slightly harder this time.

  “Oh God, I’ve been a bad boy.”

  Mmm, yes, that time it sounded like her little spanking was starting to feel good to him.

  Her cunt throbbed when she slapped the crop harder across his flesh, this time leaving a pink mark. He moaned.

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  Each successive strike of the riding crop elicited another groan from Ty, each sounding deeper, deeper, until she asked him, “Do you like your whipping from Mistress Mina?”

  He nodded vigorously, even if he looked a bit spent with desire. “Yes.”

  “Mmm, that’s a good boy,” she purred, her pussy humming with delight at his submission. “Now, sit back down.”

  He obeyed, and when she next saw his eyes, she knew she had him utterly excited, and ready for whatever came next.

  “Do you want to see more of me?” She drew the riding crop sensually through her legs and up her pussy in case he needed some inspiration.

  He answered deeply. “Oh yes.”

  “Beg me.”

  He didn’t hesitate this time. “Please let me see you, Mistress Mina. Let me see your breasts, let me see your pretty pussy.”

  Oooh, she liked him this way—so much so that it increased the pulse in her cunt and she could barely wait to let him see more of her.

  Abandoning her riding crop on the couch behind her, she reached up to curl her fingers into the cups of her bra, slowly pulling them down to reveal taut pink nipples, standing thick and erect. The beads she wore fell between her breasts. He let out a low groan and she ran her hands over them, tweaking the rosy tips.

  “So pretty,” he murmured.

  “Beg to see my pussy some more,” she instructed him.

  The request brought fresh heat to his expression. “Please, Mistress Mina, show me your pussy. Show me your hot, pink cunt. I want to see how wet and open you are.” Mmm, just what the dominatrix ordered. Like before, his begging upped her excitement, getting her even more turned on than she already was.

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  She turned, putting her back to him, then slipped her fingers beneath the elastic at her hips. She drew her panties down over her garters and stockings, bending at the waist to give him a hot view from behind. When the panties were at her ankles, she stepped free and turned to stand before him, exposed.

  “Oh God,” he breathed, his gaze glued between her thighs.

  “You like it, lover?” she asked, reaching down to run her fingers through her damp slit. She glanced down at it herself, aroused at the sight, because she’d shaved away all of her pubic hair except for a narrow swath above her cunt.

  “Fuck yes,” he growled, sounding as excited as she was.

  Following her instincts and highly aware that he loved watching her autoerotic touches, she sat down on the couch and parted her thighs wide.

  “Unh…” he breathed.

  Biting her lip, she reached for the riding crop, then began to run the leather-fringed tip over her clit and inner lips.

  “Oh God, honey, that’s so damn hot. Let me fuck you now.” Mia couldn’t quite believe how wonderful it felt to rub the leather crop through her slit while Ty’s eyes drank it all in. She’d never touched herself for a guy before, and like everything else that was a first for her tonight, the rawness of the act thrilled her almost more than she could understand. “You like watching me play with my pussy?” she purred.

  “God yes, baby.” His voice was a low, hot rumble. “But I need to fuck you now.” She lowered the crop to the cushion beside her and squared her gaze on his. “Are you being a bad boy again? Trying to take control when you know it belongs to me?” Ty looked like he was ready to come bounding off the chair at any second, but at this, he collected himself. She saw him take a deep breath. “No. Whatever you want, Mistress Mina. Whatever you say.”

  “Good.” She smiled. “Now, get down on your knees and come over here.” 40

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  Their eyes met. His seemed to say he wasn’t sure he liked this part of the game. She kept her gaze steady, though. Commanding.

  Finally, he left the chair and dropped to his knees, his hands still firmly tied behind him. He began to move toward her, placing one knee in front of the other.

  Ty looked amazingly sexy coming closer to her, his hard cock jiggling with each move, his eyes hungry, his hands still trussed. Knowing he was willingly following her demands only made it better. She parted her legs farther—as far apart as possible—as he neared her, pleased that his burning gaze had fallen back to her cunt.

  “Now, eat me,” she said, when he was kneeling between her thighs.

  Without a second’s hesitation, he lowered his face to her pussy, closing his mouth over her engorged clit. She cried out at the instant pleasure. Hissing as he began to suckle, she realized her joy ran deeper, much deeper, because the man who mouthed her was Ty. Her Ty, the guy she’d had a crush on for most of her life. And now they were suddenly playing naughty sex games and he was licking vigorously
at her slit, getting her wetter and wetter, making her think yes, yes, and making her know that disguising herself to be his secret lover was the best thing she’d ever done.

  “Oooh, yes, lick my pussy,” she cooed over him, watching as he dragged his tongue all the way from her opening up over her clit. “Oh God, yes, baby, that’s good.” She lifted one high heel to the couch, her knee bent, to give him even better access, beginning to raise herself toward his ministrations. All the while, she caressed her breasts, gently massaging, lightly twirling the nipples, her black beads clicking together lightly as she thrust at him.

  When he looked up, his eyes going glassy at her self-caress, she upped the heat by pushing one breast as high as she could with her hand, then bending toward it—just barely able to rake her tongue across her own nipple. She felt a shudder run through him and cast a sexy smile. “Don’t stop,” she told him. “Lick your Mistress Mina’s pretty pussy.”

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  Mia’s body was on fire. She wanted to raise the temperature in the room even more, though, so when she caught sight of the riding crop next to her shoe, she took it up and began to swat Ty’s ass in time with her light lunges against his oh-so skilled mouth. In one way, she hated to think of all the other women she knew he’d been with over the years, but in another, she couldn’t have been more pleased to have a man of such experience between her thighs. She moaned as the pleasure grew and grew—glad she hadn’t climaxed before when he’d been in the chair, glad she’d saved it up for now, because she suddenly wanted, more than anything, to come in his hot, sexy mouth.

  She whimpered as she drove at him, her Mardi Gras beads snapping together harder. She soon stopped hitting him with the crop, instead reaching past his bound hands to slide the tool up and down the valley of his ass. The new sensation made him moan deeply, so she kept it up, thinking of the leather braiding passing back and forth across his asshole as she got closer and closer to orgasm.