Sexy Erotica Series
"Going against Type, Part Seven," by Kay Jaybee
Read Parts 1 - 6 here.
I have a plan. I just hope I can hold my nerve and see it through...
“I don’t have long.” The familiar words spilled from John’s mouth as he crossed the threshold of my home. Throwing the DVDs I’d ordered from his company onto the sofa, John’s lips were against mine before I had the chance to reply, his hands diving down the back of my skirt. A murmur of appreciation escaped him, as his exploring fingertips discovered my lack of knickers and then found my stocking tops. “Shit woman, you get hotter every time I see you!”
Allowing him to lead me to the armchair, he shrugged down his combats and boxers, revealing his deliciously hard cock, which I immediately sat in front of, feeling its length rub teasingly over my pussy.
“You wanton woman, you’re already wet, aren’t you?”
“I knew you were coming.”
It was all I said and my hand closed in a fist around his cock. I pumped him only twice, just as I’d pre-planned in the solo-quiet of the previous evening. Then I let go, and stood up.
John’s face took on an expression of bemused confusion. With my hands on my hips, I calmly said, “On your knees.”
He only hesitated for a moment before a half-smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, and he obeyed, dropping to the floor, kicking his trousers from his ankles.
I came forward, and without a word, gestured for John to remove his t-shirt. Stifling my appreciation at the sight of his firm torso, I walked around him in a slow circle. John had had things his own way with me for weeks. It was my turn.
Pulling a black scarf from a collection of supplies I’d hidden beneath the sofa, I deftly tied his arms behind his back. Unable to hide my pleasure as I looked at him, I whispered, “There is truly nothing as fantastic to behold as a fuck-me handsome man without power.”
I knelt before John. His wide, dark brown eyes were watching me intently. Kissing each of his eyelids, I collected a blindfold from its hiding place, and with a suggestive raise of my eyebrows, plunged him into darkness. As John opened his mouth to speak, I lay a fingertip across his lips. “No talking. Yes?”
John nodded obediently.
I viewed my beautifully tanned lover, and stroked his warm chest, enjoying the spring of his thick hairs as they tickled my palms. I knew I was going to make John late for the remainder of his rounds, but I didn’t care, and I was going to make sure that he didn’t either.
Standing, I slid my skirt down, my brain teaming with images of our previous coupling; an animal-like experience in the back of his van. My knees still bore the marks of my willing submission.
Undoing the buttons of my shirt, I dropped it so the cotton material brushed his arm, letting John know that I was undressing, allowing his imagination to fill in the blanks I’d provided by using the blindfold. Freeing my tits, I sighed quietly, before placing my hands on John’s shoulders, pushing him so that he was laying face down on my beige carpet, his arms still strapped behind him.
I paused, making him wait, something he wasn’t very good at. Whether that was because he was always short of time, or whether that was just his nature, I didn’t know, but I was determined to take it slow – to show him that slower wasn’t poorer, that a leisurely pace could be just as sexy as a fast and furious one.
Crouching by his feet, I began my exploration of his whole form by stroking a silk handkerchief over his ankles, making John wriggle under the soft satin. Moving it stealthily up the backs of his legs, I could taste the sharp tang of tension that suddenly infused the room. John had taken a long deep breath, as if he was anticipating where I’d move the cloth next. I could tell he was already struggling not to speak, and I smiled to myself as I crept the gentle weapon of torture behind his knees.
By the time I reached the rounded cheeks of his gorgeous arse, John’s breathing was ragged, and his bound hands were clenched together with the effort of not calling out, of not begging me to go faster.
Continuing my task, alternating with light and hard pressure, I smoothed every inch of his back, his arse, and his sides, making John flinch and squirm, until, as I reached his neck, he could contain himself no longer, and groaned out, “Oh hell girl, I...”
I cut through the sentence by ordering John to sit up. Coming around to his masked face, I lifted his chin, and gave him one long hard kiss, before telling him to roll onto his back. John moved awkwardly, his arms trapped uncomfortably beneath him.
Beginning again, working up from his feet, I watched, fascinated as his rigid dick stirred, as if of its own devices. John was biting his lips together, trying his hardest to obey my commands. I was torn between being proud of him, of wanting to push his obedience further, and struggling with my own increasing arousal, which grew with each touch of his toned flesh.
As the handkerchief reached his groin, I cruelly skipped the area, moving onto John’s stomach and chest, making his whole body shake with disappointed tension. Focusing on his nipples, I began to rub the material over each one. Sometimes gently, other times flicking my nails at them through the fabric. His expression of concentration became more fixed, and I imagined that John’s eyes were tightly closed behind the blindfold.
Only when he couldn’t contain himself, and let out a second low moan, did I withdraw from his chest and head south. Wrapping the silken cloth around John’s shaft, I pulled it tightly, dragging it towards his balls, caressing every section of his scrotum with delicate attention.
Glancing up at his chest, I could see the tale tell blotching of red marks dappling his skin, and knew he was close to coming. My own need was also almost at breaking point, and I knew the time had come to put us both out of our blissful misery. Touching a finger to his lips to remind him to remain quiet, I maneuvered John’s body into a cross-legged sitting position, and undid his ties. Then, I picked up each of his hands and placed them onto my tits.
Instantly, John began to mould them beneath his palms. I rolled on a condom and slid my slick pussy over his cock. Slowly, steadily, I rose up and down, slapping his legs when he tried to move with me. At an agonizingly precise rate, I began to milk him, gliding along his length again and again until I could stand it no longer, and then suddenly, as if all the patience broke in me at once, I began to hammer against John’s lap, slamming down on his legs, until the full force of my climax hit my stomach.
I ripped away the blindfold, and as I thrust, looked deeply into my lover’s blinking eyes. John stared back at me with a delight and desire so intense that his expression alone acted as the final trigger for my orgasm. My muscles gripped him inside of me as, with a cry of pent up frustration, my deliveryman came too.
***
He was over half an hour late for his rounds. He says he’ll forgive me, but that I’ll have to be punished for holding him up. He has taken my mobile phone number. I am to wait for a text with instructions on it. I also have to hunt out some really old clothes...I wonder why?
Originally published October 2009