“I want you to have me.”
She had to choose the moment he’d just sipped his coffee. He swallowed wrongly and
coughed noisily.
“Excuse me?” he asked. Surely he’d misheard.
“It’s OK, if you don’t want me. I’m not offended.” She was on the defensive now.
“Vicky, I think you’re fantastic. Beautiful. Really. There’s no need to feel obliged.”
“It’s more than that,” she continued. “I’ve had a few boyfriends. They’re all out for
what they can get. Selfish. Lazy. You’re not like that. You took the time to care about a
total stranger and that’s rare. And I treated you like shit.”
“Vicky, I’d have done the same for anyone,” he said truthfully. “Even my ex-wife. It was
an emergency. I’m a trained first-aider. I reacted automatically.”
“Why the hell am I turning her down?” he thought.
“I didn’t just mean when I got the shock. I meant before, when you took the time to tell
me about the stool and the rain and the cut-out. You cared.” She paused and her voice went
quieter as she continued. “I want to know what it’s like to have a caring lover.”
“Are you serious?”
“Very,” she said. “I’m not after a relationship or anything. I won’t make demands. I
just want to be with a real man for a while.”
She sure knew how to build up a male ego.
“What d’you say?” she asked, a slight hint of insecurity in her voice.
“I don’t know what to say,” he told her. “Pinch me, let me wake up.”
She obviously took that as a tentative yes.
“Would you like to see what I’m offering?” she asked seductively.
Paul swallowed hard. Words wouldn’t come. She stood, reaching behind her to slide down
the zip of the dress. She gave a slight shimmy and it fell from her shoulders, catching at
her elbows, revealing one of her black bras, the tanned expanse of the upper curves of her
breasts held quivering with the movement. It could have been the very bra he’d held those
few days ago, but it looked so much better with the real thing inside. She hooked her
thumbs in the waistband of the dress and lowered it past her hips.
“I thought you’d probably be a stockings and suspenders man,” she explained as her belt
came into view.
“Yes,” he croaked. He gulped coffee to salve his dry mouth.
The dress slid to the floor. No painter or sculptor had ever managed to create a work of
art like this. She looked perfection. The belt hugged her flat stomach and held her dark
stockings taut, the tiny thong sitting dead centre.
“You are beautiful,” he breathed.
She turned slowly, watching him all the time. Paul didn’t care, he had to look at that
body. The thong almost disappeared at the back, the fabric, no wider than a piece of
string, emerging from between her perfect buttocks to join a similar piece round her
waist.
“Tell me what you want,” she asked.
If she’d cared to glance at his trousers she’d have known.
“You,” he growled.
“Yes, but what else? Haven’t you anything you’ve always wanted to do? Something maybe
your wife wouldn’t? I want to give you something special. I don’t care what it is.”
He wondered if he could tell her how he’d imagined her? But, he resolved, how could he
not tell her?
“I do have fantasies,” he started before the gentleman inside stopped him.
“Tell me, “ she said. “You won’t shock me.”
He swallowed hard. “When you... when you swore at me the other day, I imagined taking
you inside and...”
“What?” she smiled, tilting her head to one side to catch his embarrassed gaze. Then she
realised. “You want to spank me?”
Paul felt stupid. She was laughing at him. Inside. He knew it.
“Is that all?” she said lightly. “I don’t mind that.”
“Has someone done it to you before?” he wanted to know. He actually felt jealous at the
idea.
“No,” she said, “but I have fantasised about being held down and spanked by a strong
man.”
She moved across to him quickly, her perfume invading his senses. She leaned forward,
those incredible breasts inches from his hungry mouth, gently pushing him back on the
sofa, leaving her enough room to kneel beside him before stretching forward across his
lap. When she was in position her hands and feet were resting on the carpet either side of
his legs, that fantastic bottom pointed upwards, waiting for him. Ready. God!
“Will I do?” she teased. “D’you need me to misbehave first? Shall I say, er... Don’t you
dare fucking spank me, you pervert?”
No, Paul didn’t need her to say that, but it did act as permission. He brought his right
hand down across her right buttock, finding the sound very satisfying.
“Ow,” she squealed. “That hurt.”
“Shut up and keep still,” he ordered, getting into the swing of things.
He hit her again, then stroked her for a while, holding her down with his left hand in
the small of her back. She stayed still between smacks, maybe enjoying or maybe just
enduring his first experimental punishment. She must have been able to feel how hard he
was.
He took his time and spanked her some more, harder until she was turning nicely pink.
“Is there a time limit on me?” he had to know.
“How about we give it a two week trial?” she answered.
Paul laughed and she wanted to know what was so funny.
“I thought you were going to say half an hour.”
She laughed too, so he cut her short with a crack of his hand. Vicky yelped.
He kept up the mixture of caresses and spanks for some time. She squirmed each time he
hit her, and she relaxed in between. After a while she insinuated her hand between them,
seeking out his cock like a homing pigeon and holding it while he spanked her. As the mood
took her she started to rub him slowly, finally sliding off his knees to kneel on the
carpet at his feet, still holding the tent that contained his cock. Agonisingly slowly,
her eyes locked on his, she slid his zip down.
“Can you take your bra off?” he asked.
“Tell me, don’t ask,” she breathed. “Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?”
He didn’t linger on the detail of what she meant by that. All that could be discussed
later.
“Take your bra off,” said a voice several semitones lower than his normal one.
Letting go of his cock for a moment, she reached behind her back to unhook it. Her firm
breasts dropped no more than half an inch as she pulled the bra off and threw it aside.
Her nipples looked fantastic, making his mouth water. But again that could come later. Her
hands were back on him now, unfastening, uncovering, revealing, stroking and holding. She
held it erect, sliding her hand along its length.
“May I suck it?” she asked.
As if she needed to ask.
“Yes, do it,” he urged, watching as her mouth opened and descended to engulf him.
Her head mimicked what her hand had been doing, bobbing tirelessly up and down, swirling
her tongue around the bulb, driving him crazy as she watched his face contort with the
pleasure she was dealing out. He still half-suspected he was going to suddenly wake up
alone in his bed.
He reached down to cup her left breast with his right hand, and she twisted slightly to
push it against him. The nipple was hard, pressing into his palm, inviting his fingers to
pull and squeeze it, forcing her to gasp round his cock.
He was never going to last long. He’d been too long without female company, and his own
hand had never been a particularly satisfying substitute.
She sucked her way off the top of his cock for a moment to speak.
“It’s OK. You can come in my mouth. I don’t mind.”
Then she swooped again, deep, taking him right in, moaning so he could feel the
vibrations, licking, sucking.
“Wait,” he said, with not inconsiderable effort. “Pass me your bra.”
It wasn’t exactly the most suitable thing for what he intended, but he wasn’t going to
spoil his new tie. She crawled across to where she’d dropped it and handed it to him. Nor
was he going to waste the opportunity she presented.
“Turn around, put your hands behind you,” he told her.
“Are you going to tie me up?” she asked, looking at him quizzically.
“Any objection?”
“No. How deliciously kinky,” she grinned as she turned her back to him and crossed her
hands behind her.
Paul looped the bra a couple of times round her wrists and tied it off. Crude, yet
effective.
“Is this what you like? A girl at your mercy?” she asked as she turned back to face
him.
“It’s what I’ve always fantasised about,” he replied. “I’ve never had the chance to
actually do it.”
“Until now,” she grinned.
“Until now.”
“I meant it, you know,” she said, her face a little more serious. “You can do whatever
you want to me.”
As if to reinforce her gift, her head swooped down again, this time without her hands to
help her. He leaned forward, wanting to see the fact she was bound, that he had her as a
captive. She attacked his cock with renewed enthusiasm, quickening her strokes until she
was a blur before his dizzying eyes. He felt his climax on its way, and tried to focus on
it, to slow it down and make the absolute most of it. What a waste of time. He lost
control completely, the combination of the physical sensations with her beautiful face,
his cock looking like it was growing out of her mouth, her incredible breasts and those
twisting tied hands taking him rapidly over the top until he spurted the frustrations of
years of solo sex deep into her throat.
She stopped sucking as she felt him come, just keeping it deep in her mouth and
swallowing when she needed to. Paul gasped and groaned, feeling like pulling her further
on yet at the same time wanting to push her away because he was so sensitive. He didn’t
push her away, though; he stayed in her mouth until he’d ejaculated all he had and she
gave one final swallow. Afterwards she kissed and sucked, apparently in no hurry to
separate or clean up.
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