by Jo Raven
“Yeah, figures you’d see it as a gift you’re giving, when it’s the girl on her knees servicing you, gagging down your seed.”
I rolled off her onto my side, propped my head on my fist. “It is a gift. My cut cock is a sensational treat and only the most precious women get the privilege of tasting it. But you have me really intrigued now.” I flicked my tongue. “Do you swallow?”
“Ukk, no. Disgusting.” Blushing furiously and huffing, she smacked my chest and flew off the bed.
I chuckled as she grabbed her heap and smashed it into the suitcase. Her zip-up was rushed and required more fist-pounding.
“You’d swallow mine, sweetheart, with a drunken smile on your face and even thank me for the honor.” I straightened onto my back, fingers clasped behind my head. “You’re the one who brought it up. I was talking about the way you speak. Now all I’m picturing is you on your knees, begging for cock as I jerk on your hair, and my cum coursing down your throat.”
“Dream on. Nasty. That’s never gonna happen.”
“Opposed to giving head or something?”
“No, it just ... should be special.”
“Well, we both agree on that.”
“Whatever. You’re a selfish cad, who considers his junk pure gold and The Gift of the Ages.”
I rushed off the bed and jerked her closer. “You don’t know me, so how would you know if I’m selfish or not? Quit with the fucking snot-faced attitude or I’ll leave you here and let you fend for yourself.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so mouthy. Don’t leave me. Please.” I stiffened as arms locked around my back. She mashed her cheek against my pecs and clung to me like waves were pulling her under. “I’m so sorry, Jason.”
Dammit. I stroked her hair, careful to avoid the abrasion on her forehead. “I won’t leave you … as long as you behave.”
“I’ll try.” She soon spun away and stepped into her jeans with the sweetest bend right in front of me.
My mouth watered and my dick jacked up.
She jumped with the gracefulness and weightlessness only a trained dancer possesses as she yanked tight denim over her ass. Though her breasts bounced in a buoyant jig, I was more awestruck by the ease of her pretty leaps, toes pointed each time she lifted in the air. Jeans up and buttoned, she bent sideways, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and streaked her fingers through the tangles.
“You a dancer, Shayna?”
“Yeah, why? ”
“You flexible?”
“Extremely, but you’re weirding me out. Why you asking?”
“Maybe we can work out an exchange.”
Her face scrunched in suspicion as she straightened. “What! What kinda exchange?”
“Tell me what you want most, right now in your life.”
“I want the mugger caught.”
“Can’t help with that. What else?”
“Well, I want the kids I work with to not be disappointed, again. I run this park outreach through my church, with puppets, dancing, and skits, and the last three Sundays, we’ve been snuffed out.”
Grinding my jaw, I spit darts at her, but, looking away, she missed ’em. That’s her blasted church? The one that treated my lesbian sister like shit when she went there for help? Yeah, shut down thanks to me! City parks are public grounds I pointed out to the P&R Administrator. I have no beef with God, or what people do in private, but her judgmental views don’t belong in a stinkin’ park. I clenched my jaw before I shouted about her brainwashing of impressionable youth. No wonder this girl pissed me off so much. “Yeah, not touching that. What else?”
“Um, well, I’ve basically been a good girl my whole life and haven’t really given myself the elbow room to express myself or discover what I like. I want to be freer, and I want … I wanna know if I’m more like Addison versus Mother Theresa.”
“Submissive you mean.” Uh, thank God! God. See? I can appreciate God. No beef. I was glad to be off the topic of her religious bullshit though and onto something hot like BDSM. Now we’re talkin’. Perfect for what I have in mind. Besides, I can already tell she has a subbie-nougat center, and I want to be the one to find and release her hidden devil.
“Yes. This past spring I dated a guy, who was sweet, an amazing kisser. He’s studying for the Bar and has aspirations for corporate law. The whole time we were together, I kept itching and wishing for … um, something more explosive in the chemistry department, ya know? I wanted him to be more assertive and demanding, if that makes sense. Yeah, though it’s backwards, that’s what I wanted, I mean, it’s what I still want. It’s sexy and arousing to me, the whole idea of the alpha male leading me, taking charge, helping me to break out of my shell. I need guidance ’cause I have no clue what I’m doing. I was mostly homeschooled so I know I don’t have street smarts or the best social skills. I don’t want to be treated like dirt or anything, just pushed to overcome my inhibitions. Is that submissive? I think so.”
“I’d say. You can just be a person who experiments with kink, which is fine, but being in BDSM should fill some kind of need, where you feel a little bit incomplete without it. If you want, I can train you and help you discover what you like in submission, so you’ll know what you truly need in a man and won’t waste your time on vanilla scrubs, no matter how sweet or face-suckable they are. While partaking in the sweet power play of dominance and submission, you should only do what you’re comfortable doing. You might get pushed to help you grow or break through your defenses, but any Dom worth his salt should respect your desires and limits.”
“Sounds good. That’s what I want. To be pushed. But what would that be in exchange for? Me sucking you? I don’t think you’d be impressed or consider it an even back scratch. I haven’t, um, I’ve never actually done that.” She flushed and wiggled her cute toes that looked so damn munchable.
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t want you sucking my cock anyway. I was just teasing before, tryin’a make you blush like you are now.”
“You don’t? Why not?”
“You don’t want it badly enough.”
Her cherry lips pursed and her focus fell. Damn. Did she want it? My big boy perked up in that belief. I imagined throaty moans from her as she tongued me up with wet heat. Fuckitall!
She looked me in the eye again. “Then what do you want, in exchange for your ... training?”
“What I’d like is for you to stay in my guestroom instead of some hotel for a few days and star in my video. I’m a composer and need a special dancer. It’ll take a few days to shoot.”
“What kind of video? What’s the song about?”
“It’s instrumental with an electric guitar, saxophone and violin underbelly. It’s full of erotic fire.”
“Erotic? Like porn? I’m a Christian. No way am I starring in something that’ll come back to bite me now or later on in life.”
“Haven’t you ever danced in a sensual ballet? It’s not porn or about sex. It’s the fluidity, the evident passion. The palpable chemistry is what’s most noticeable, and that’s what I want to show. At its core, my song, Chrysalis, is about coming alive through BDSM. This is your journey right now, and we can capture it through movement and suspension. You’d always be covered with scanty clothes and it wouldn’t be crass at all. I want to create beauty and a sultriness that burns into the viewer. Vanillas think of whips and chains, but ultimately, BDSM is a lovely exchange that lets you get exactly what you need and crave with someone who understands those needs. Your wishes would be respected at all times. I’ll make you feel comfortable and...” Her palm landing on my ribs shut me up and made my heart scuttle. I’m sure she could feel it because her touch stayed there for seven heavenly seconds.
“Okay. Sure, I’ll do it.”
“You will? You’re not shittin’ me?”
“No. Sounds fun. Very scary but fun. I need to shove myself out of my comfort zone.”
I crushed her to my chest and spun her a
round.
When I set her down, she gazed up at me and her hot tits bobbed from heavy huffs. “I’m so ready to feel sensual, Jason, but are you sure I’m the right person for your video?”
“You’re perfect. Your breath-taking innocence, your desires, your soulful eyes, everything.”
“You said you wanted to create beauty, and I’m cute and all, but definitely not beautiful. I don’t stand out in crowds. Guys rarely talk to me.”
“That’s not because of your lack of beauty. You are stunning.”
She looked down. “No I’m not.”
I lifted her chin. “You are. You’re off-putting because of your walls and that damn Don’t Come Near Me sign stamped your forehead. Most dudes don’t wanna deal with that much resistance.”
“What walls? I have no clue what you mean.”
“You hide your hotness in drab clothes, for instance, and your sexy-as-fuck persona behind an air of superiority. You sneer at things you deem inappropriate or crude. You’re frigid.”
“I am not frigid. I’m just … waiting.”
“Ah, the Virgin’s Creed.” Shit. Now that I had confirmation, I craved to pop cherry all the more.
She blushed, and I could see her jaw grinding. Hot, hot. “There’s nothing wrong with waiting for marriage!” This steamed-up freak intrigued me. I loved getting under her skin.
“No, there isn’t. It’s an honorable choice I’d never shame because it takes insurmountable strength to resist lust. I respect it. But you’re frigid with everything about sex, not just the sex. The language, the actions leading up to it, the unsuspecting wave of passion that can take you at least part of the way. You blush at the slightest mention of anything sultry.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I am eeked out about sexual things, but I don’t wanna be like that. I don’t want to be off-putting either. I’m tired of that and of being afraid to live. You really think I’m sexy?”
“No. Lots of women are sexy. You, sweetie, are sexy-as-fuck.”
As her lips cutely curled, I craved to grab her throat and whisper shit in her ear that would really make her grin and groan. Her smile was gorgeous. I liked how a truly free one made her eyes squint.
“Can’t you say that word, Shayna? Fuck?”
“No, that’s not a word I say. But, um, it’s not the word that’s making me feel awkward. I just don’t think of myself as sexy, which is more of an attitude than a look, ya know? You have to be aware of it and work it.”
“Oh, trust me, you have plenty of attitude, the kind I want to spank out of you yet play with at the same time. I hate how you conflict me.”
“So sorry,” she mocked, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
“No you’re not, but it’s kinda what fascinates me about you. Got all your stuff? You should pack any valuables, electronics. We can fetch your car now if you want.”
“You can unlock the block?”
“Yep. Snatched the key before I left.”
She looked around, tapping her lip. “Hmm. Should I pack lingerie?”
“Hell yes, if you have some sweet nothings. If it’s just more panties like the ones you’re in, that doesn’t count as lingerie. Suppose you don’t have any leather.”
“I have a few babydolls and a black Victoria’s Secret bra and panty set.” Her cheeks pinked.
“A bra and panty set. One.” I laughed. “Man, are you blushing just thinking about being in babydolls? If so, we have a long road ahead of us.”
“Oh, no, I just feel really lame that I don’t have anything to suit your much cruder tastes, like leather or, I don’t know, feathers linked with rubber bands.”
“Yeah, now you’re talkin’. I think I’ll like you in delicate things, but I’m gonna have to get you some leather, only ’cause I am certain you’ll sizzle my loins in it.”
“Wait. I have thigh highs. White ones and black ones with little bows in back.”
“Mmm. Nice. Pack ’em.”
I grinned as she pulled unopened packages out of a drawer and tucked them away.
“Got any sex toys?”
“What? No! Definitely not.” Right. Her blush spilled salacious gossip about her. Now I was curious.
“Silk scarves? I can put those to good use.”
“What?”
“In my video.”
“Oh. Yeah, I have some.” She scratched her neck, looking around.
“Don’t worry. I’ll tie you up plenty outside of it too, but they’re mostly for show. I prefer rope or leather cuffs for real bondage. Get the scarves and anything equally ethereal.”
“Um, okay.” She found a long, sheer black curtain thingy and several scarves. She put them in a bag, cleared her throat, and blinked at me. “Let’s see. Need my pointe shoes, my camera, the laptops, the Wii … um, compact stereo … the games. The TV’s the landlord’s. But I’m otherwise ready.”
“Kay.” I could see her wrapped in that black sheet, it waving flirtatiously around her legs from the breeze of a fan. She kneels and writhes on the floor, then crawls to me, losing the sheer fabric inch by inch in the most seductive peel-down ever. Then, wearing only those slippers, she raises up on her toes, slender arms arched overhead. I nearly busted out of my jeans and that pissed me off. I’m the one who craves worship, dammit. So, why did I ache to grace that body with everything I have? I didn’t even like her. Prudish, not to mention self-righteous, does not work in my world.
“You all right?”
“Yep. Perfect. Right as rain.”
“Perfectly clichéd,” she muttered.
I ignored that bratty retort, though she was dead-on right. I lugged her suitcase off the bed, then stood at the door as she stuffed valuables into a beach bag.
She asked her landlord to keep an eye out and let her know she’d be gone for a few days.
Because it was late, we changed plans and decided to get her car tomorrow instead.
I played Chrysalis on the drive home, just the unmixed demo, without mentioning it was my song. I still needed my drummer, Stoney, to track the percussion so I could replace the keyboarded holder. My beats were pretty solid, so she probably wouldn’t even notice the lack of real drums.
She stared out the window, and at the end of the song, she wiped tears away. My heart jumped. She splayed fingers across her breastbone in that way chicks do when they’re suppressing emotion. My wordless music moved her. And her tits looked so scrumptious, moving with each breath.
Shit. I am fucked.
Resting her cheek against the glass, she was evidently wiped, but there was no way I could let her crash without getting the spanking she deserved.
As I pictured baring her ass, a hard-on strained against its black denim prison. I’d have to tend to that first. I didn’t want to thrash her while stiff. This wasn’t about feeding my own lusts. She needed it. Because she’s so very bad. Hmm. Wonder what spank-worthy crimes she’s committed.
After parking in the garage, I walked her in through the kitchen, which was kinda messy, dishes in the sink, cereal boxes and mail on the counter. I wasn’t expecting a guest. Compelled to look in control and tidy, I loaded the dishwasher, put the boxes away.
When I showed her to the spare room, she looked around, humming.
Judging a damn room too now? All high and mighty. Give it up, bitch. It was plain with a black and gray comforter, wrought iron bed, and black lacquer furniture. Though it was perfectly functional, she was not impressed. It didn’t have anything purple.
“Thanks for letting me stay here.”
I set her bags beside the bed. “No prob. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in about ten to give you that butt-beating I’ve been promising.”
She sighed but didn’t utter a peep of protest.
I hustled to the master suite I’d added on two years ago, shed my clothes, and rushed under a hot stream in my huge shower. Water bee-bees pelted me and raced down my prickling skin as I tended to my erection with fast and furious thrusts. Air whistled through my te
eth when I exhaled as I spilled seed. I switched the temp to almost cool for a refreshing scrub and rinse. Though I jizzed, the hot body waiting for me had me far from wilted. I went to grab the grainy liquid soap and growled at the empty spot. Shit. Forgot to snatch the new bottle from the closet. I had to be clean. Earlier, a sweet, chubby maso eagerly obeyed my command to munch on my pecs and abs to get her whipping, and it always felt wrong and nasty going directly from one girl to another without a total cleanse. I wrapped a towel around my best assets and padded out, leaving the water running. Dripping all over the hall floor, I stopped cold, hand on the closet knob, when I heard my name in her moan. Uh, that naughty freak. My heart jack-hammered against my ribs as I stalked towards the closed door. I stood there, listening to her sweet, quiet moans clearly interspersed with my name. Bad. Girl. I smirked and rapped with a knuckle.
Her voice stilled, and she gasped. A few seconds later, she opened the door in a pink babydoll with the softest ruffle high up on her thighs. Breaths whooshed from her adorable nose and she swallowed tensely before she cracked out, “Yes? Already?”
“Why daydream, Sunshine, when you can live it?” I ripped the towel away and held it out to her.
“Ohmygod.” She gaped, following the arrow to my package. That delicious ogle singed my nuts like the wrong kind of candle wax and jolted my cock. It wasn’t quite back to raging hard-on and was thankful I hadn’t receded in the AC’s chill. Even un-erect, I’m still jaw-droppingly hung and can weaken the strongest of knees. Case in point. Even a dancer’s knees. She never took the towel from me or shut her mouth, so I tossed it over her shoulder in a ball and thumbed her chin up to show her she was still BJ-ready and staring just as wide. “What … what are you doing?” She spun and slammed the door on me.
I chuckled, palming the doorjamb. “Finishing my shower. Just left to grab some soap. Wanna join me?”
“Hell no.”
“Can I have my towel back then?”
Amusingly not ready for another peek at my hot stuff, now poised again to make her scream all sorts of filthy shit, she opened the door a little and stuck it out to me.