by Kat Catesby
“Yes, when the sex was on tap and I knew I was able to fuck you the next day. You want to take this slow and I understand that. But it’s been months since I last had you – do you think I can sleep next to you and not fuck you? I have willpower, but not that much. I’m a man who wants to have lots and lots of dirty, amazing, hard and rough, soft and sensual sex with you…preferably all night long. As that can’t happen, I’ll be on the sofa.”
“Have there been, uh, many?” Kelsey asks quietly.
“Many what?” It takes my brain a second to catch up to what she’s awkwardly asking. “Oh, fuck no. Not a single woman since you.”
“I know I shouldn’t be, but I feel relieved to know you haven’t been relieved and have a serious case of blue balls.”
“Baby, you have no idea how blue these balls are. And nor will you find out tonight,” I smile, her little display of jealousy making me feel good about the fact she still desires me. Then I flip the scenario in my head and even though I’d never given it any thought, now I need to know if any other man has touched her in my absence. “Have you?” I ask a little gruffly.
She smirks at me, obviously enjoying my possessive edge as well.
“No, I’ve not been with anyone since you. I guess you could say I have a case of blue bean.”
I roar with laughter at that. I’ve never heard of a woman’s sexual frustration being referred to as blue bean, but it’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.
“Don’t laugh at my sexual misfortune, or you’ll just have to sleep on the sofa knowing that I’m doing something to relieve my bean.”
“If I can’t touch you, you can’t touch you. I’ll even tie you to the bed if I have to.”
“Promises, promises,” she teases until I walk over to her, my body towering over hers, heat flaring in her eyes instantly and her cheeks flushing pink.
Kelsey has the cutest blush and I love to see her pale skin go pink.
“When you permit me, I’m going to savage your sweet pussy until you are so satisfied, you can’t leave this bed for a week. Until then, no one touches your cunt, not even you. Say it.”
I’ve always been a little dominant in the bedroom. Nothing excessive and I certainly wouldn’t describe myself as someone living the dominant lifestyle. Helen didn’t like it, so I consciously toned it down for her. Kelsey on the other hand, fucking loves it. If I was to put my hands down her panties right this second, they’d be soaked because of the order I just gave her. And if I kept my hand there, her sweet little pussy would be dripping all over me.
Kelsey likes a little kink and that matches me perfectly.
“No one touches my cunt but you,” she whispers, her eyes dilated and her lips parted, begging me to kiss her. I know I said I’d take it slow with her, but I have to kiss her.
“Good girl,” I husk out, my voice thick with need as I tilt my head toward hers.
Kelsey rises on her tiptoes to meet me half-way, her arms snaking around my neck for balance as one of mine circles her waist, pulling her flush against my body, while the other hand cups her cheek as I press my lips to hers.
I fight like hell to keep control of the kiss so that I can keep control of my dick.
It’s hard.
Literally.
My cock throbs solidly against her abdomen as our lips meld together, my tongue dipping into the wet warmth of her mouth. She loves it when I invade her mouth entirely with my tongue, but for both our sanity, I’m not going to. I simply massage the tip of her tongue with mine while she seeks out more. She lets out a deep throaty moan that makes my balls tingle and her body rocks against mine…
…And that’s about all I can take if she wants me to be a respectable man and not frantically tear her clothes from her body.
“Chinese or Thai?” I say as I rip my mouth away from hers, leaving us both breathless and desperate for more.
Chapter Eleven
Kelsey
The sound of a door slowly opening startles me awake. I’m normally a pretty deep sleeper, but last night was my first night in a new place and all of the sounds are unfamiliar.
I might have slept better had Mason slept in the bed with me, but the man has super-human level determination. Nothing I could do would persuade him to share his bed with me; I even deliberately walked out of the bathroom naked and he still slept on the sofa.
…After he threatened to withhold sex from me once I decide I’m ready to make love to him again.
It isn’t an idle threat either. With his dominance and perseverance, the man will happily make me beg until I’m crying with need for him.
Teasing him will not end well for me – I’m already not allowed to touch my pussy and my clit is aching so badly from just being around Mason again. I’d have probably given myself two or three orgasms already by now if I were permitted to relieve myself.
This is torture…but I’m also stubborn and perversely curious to see how long I can go before I’m desperate for him to touch me.
I mean, I’m already pretty desperate, but there are levels of desperation and we’re nowhere near as bad as it could be…yet.
It’s weird. He laid down the damn gauntlet, yet I have the power to end my suffering whenever I want. That knowledge doesn’t exactly stop sex from confusing matters. I wanted a clear head. For us to be in a good place before we start making love again, but now all I can think about is my aching clit and the fact that it’s going to continue to be a problem until I let Mason back into my panties.
So, not having sex is confusing matters just as much, if not more, than if we just had sex.
All signs point to the fact I want to open my legs and feel his thick cock deep inside me, and I want it now.
It was all I dreamt about last night.
Now I’m tired, with a door squeaking on its hinges waking me, and an unsatisfied throbbing pussy making me clench my thighs together all before I even open my eyes.
“Sorry to wake you,” Mason’s deep voice whispers in my ear. “There’s only one bathroom and I need to get ready for work.”
“What time is it?” I say sleepily.
“Too early for you to be awake. Go back to sleep, Sweetheart. I don’t have much in for breakfast, but there’s an awesome café down the street that makes the best waffles I’ve found in this city so far, and I remember how much you love waffles and bacon for breakfast, so I’ve written the directions on the grocery list.”
“Thank you. But I’m not hungry for food right now,” I try to say it seductively, but let’s not kid ourselves here, I’ve been awake for all of ten seconds, have serious bed head and I need to brush my teeth: sexy I am not.
“That’s fine, get some rest and I’ll be home this evening. I forgot to mention that my friend, Xander, is coming over tonight. I can cancel if you aren’t up to meeting him?”
Seriously? I went from a secret girlfriend to heartbroken ex, and now I’m living with him and he wants to introduce his friends…and he thinks I have a problem with it? That’s only the type of relationship I wanted all along.
A normal, out in the open, lets-meet-each-other’s-friends, relationship.
There’s no way in hell I’m letting him cancel on Xander.
“You are not canceling on your friend. If you want me to meet him then I am all in.”
It does cross my mind that if this Xander guy stays too long tonight, I’m not going to be able to enjoy any naked time with Mason.
See what not being allowed to pleasure your own pussy does to a girl? It’s all I can think about.
Mason leans in to kiss me on my forehead, but I hijack the kiss by holding onto his black t-shirt and lifting my lips to meet his.
Yes, I need to brush my teeth, but so does he so I figure the gross-ness cancels out.
Mason doesn’t resist and kisses me back with enthusiasm…until he pulls away leaving me dazed and wanting.
“I’m sorry, Kels, I have to get ready for work. I’d love nothing more than to lay in bed with you
, believe me.”
“How much time do you have?” I do not attempt to hide the desperation and arousal in my voice. I want him, we both know it.
“Not enough,” he answers firmly, his gaze burning with lust.
“In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never once left yourself short of time. You always get up with more than enough time to cover any eventuality because you hate to be late. You want to be prepared in case something comes up. Well, Mason, I’m an eventuality and you came up.” I look pointedly at the bulge in his trousers as his cock strains against the fabric.
…Up is an understatement.
“True. But it’s still not enough time for what I have planned for you,” he growls sexily, and dammit if I don’t have to squeeze my thighs together again.
Mason notices the movement, smirks, and then gives me an affectionate yet slightly pitying look.
“What?” I demand, so sexually frustrated I resort to pouting.
“I’m not a monster, Sweetheart. I’m not going to leave you in this state.”
I almost breathe a sigh of relief…almost.
…Because before I get a chance, his mouth is on mine, his tongue devouring me in a way he refused to do last night.
Mason pulls back the covers and settles between my legs, leaning his weight on me, his chest pressing against mine.
I’ve missed this. The physical contact with him. Don’t get me wrong, there are a million other things I’ve missed about being in a relationship with him but I’ve missed how connected I feel to him when we touch physically. Even when it’s a quick and dirty fuck, there’s always so much emotion and depth conveyed between us. Tender love-making or furious fuck somewhere completely inappropriate, it doesn’t matter because there isn’t any less love being communicated.
It might be a half-dressed quickie, but it’s never insignificant.
Right now, it’s just a kiss, but it’s so deep and insanely good that I’m lost to it in moments, rocking my hips up to rub against him, praying for some friction where I need it most.
But he pulls away from me at the last second, leaving me arched in the air and exposed, thanks to the fact that I slept without wearing any underwear (one of my failed attempts to seduce Mason last night).
“I like this look,” he says, all mischief and swoon-worthy eyes that make me melt on the spot. “You should sleep naked all the time.”
“Didn’t do me much good last night,” I grumble, not loving the inequality between my naked body and his clothed form.
“It’s about to pay off.”
“Really?” I ask, growing increasingly frustrated at the thought he might still be messing with me just to ramp up my blue bean discomfort, therefore making him a monster after all.
“Have a little more faith in the power of your naked body, Kels. I may not have enough time to take you how I want to, but that doesn’t mean you won’t enjoy what I’m going to do.”
“Thought you said you were running out of time,” I’m unsure why I’m saying things that could lead him to rethink his plan to make me feel good.
“If I remember right, I was capable of making you come in minutes. Now, in the spirit of our little arrangement…ask me to touch you.”
“Is this where I ask you and you deny me because you’re still playing with me and want to mess with my blue bean some more. Because if so, I’m not okay with that,” I squirm breathlessly beneath him.
“I’m not messing with you, Kels. I want to hear you ask me because I want you to be sure of what you’re asking. Yesterday you wanted to go slow so if you want me to touch you, I want to hear you say it and know that you thought about it.”
“I’ve thought about it and going slow with you is futile. We both want each other and connecting sexually is just as important as connecting emotionally. The two help each other. So fucking touch me already, please.“
“Gladly.”
He smiles one last devilish smile before his lips crash back down on mine, swallowing my breath, while his hand trails up my inner thigh and parts my, predictably wet, folds.
It doesn’t take much to jog my brain into remembering just how talented he is with his fingers and how quickly he can make me climax. He rubs his thumb in tight little circles around my clit, making my toes curl before he sinks two fingers deep inside my pussy.
There’s not a lot of time for prolonging my pleasure and let’s be honest, I’m so wet for him that it’s not like he needs to spend much time priming me before he invades me with his thick, masculine fingers. And he does remember how to get me going in record time…how to curl his fingers exactly so that he’s hitting my g-spot with every thrust. Mason has this trick that I’ve never stopped to figure out, but it feels like he’s massaging me perfectly every time he slides his fingers inside me.
He gives me a couple of languid thrusts before he picks up the pace. Instead of withdrawing them, he leaves his fingers deep inside my pussy and uses his powerful arm muscles to drive them deeper, harder, and faster. He moves them so quickly that my eyes roll into the back of my head and flashes of light fill my vision as the tension in my g-spot builds. A burning sensation grows hotter and hotter until it explodes out of me just as quickly and furiously as Mason’s hand is moving.
I shriek as the pleasure assaults my body, making me thrash around, almost trying to escape the onslaught as much as I want to seek it out and make it last.
Mason pulls his fingers abruptly away as my pussy continues to pulsate, before thrusting them back in and pulling them out once again. Each time it sends a spike of electricity through my orgasm, making me scream and shake just that little bit more.
I vaguely register that with each thrust he’s coating his fingers with my cum and rubbing the liquid onto his cock, massaging the thick bulbous head until it’s straining angrily and wet with my pussy juice.
With my body still shaking in the throes of orgasm he swiftly lines up his cock with my writhing cunt and bucks his hips until I am impaled completely in one delicious thrust.
Mason is the king of fucking me senseless and I love how brutally he stretches and fills me. And when he fucks me while I’m already orgasming, he prolongs the bliss until it’s almost agony.
My body shakes and my pussy spasms around his thick cock, the waves of pleasure rolling on and on. My hands automatically find my breasts and pinch my nipples, my hips undulate, working his dick against my g-spot and I pray there’s decent soundproofing for the neighbors’ benefit because I cannot be quiet.
I cry out, scream his name, and moan over and over as the orgasm crashes on. I can feel my cum leaking out of my pussy and covering his balls. That’s when I notice the absence of the slapping sound – the tell-tale noise that happens when my cunt is soaked and Mason is thrusting his big dick into me relentlessly. The sound is pure filthy sex; wet slurping and skin slapping: I love it.
But I don’t hear it. And as my orgasm begins to subside, I realize it’s because Mason isn’t rocking his hips. He’s not thrusting into me; he’s merely filling me with his cock because I love to come on it. No one fills me quite as Mason does, so the climax that happens when I’m stretched around his delicious girth is indescribable.
As more of my senses come back to me, I know I’m not going to feel him fuck me either. This was just about relieving me; giving my body the much-needed release it was craving. Mason isn’t going to make love to me now – the realization makes me love him for being so selfless and hate him for not giving us what we both desire.
His phone beeps from his pocket, drawing me back to reality.
“That’s my half-hour alarm; my shift starts soon. I’m sorry to leave you like this and not take care of you and your mess,” he gives me that cheeky, self-satisfied smile at the knowledge he made me come so much the sheets are soaked. “But I do have to go. I love you and I’ll see you tonight. Message me throughout the day and I’ll reply when I can,” he kisses me deeply once more before sprinting to the bathroom. He’s in there for a
ll of five minutes before he’s running back out, grabbing his bag and heading for the door.
“Laters, Gorgeous,” he winks at me, and then I’m alone.
The post-orgasmic bliss quickly takes over and fall back to sleep for a few hours.
When I next wake up, the sun is much brighter and streams into the bedroom, making the room a little too hot.
Mason likes the warmth and has a bad habit of setting the air conditioning to higher temperatures. I don’t mind the heat but if the cool air had kicked in a few degrees ago, I’d be much happier.
I drag my naked, sweaty ass out of bed and hunt around for the thermostat, adjusting the temperature to something the rest of the human population would appreciate, and then head for a nice cold shower.
Feeling slightly more alive and a lot less sweaty, I dress, brush my teeth, grab the shopping list and head out in search of breakfast. Thankfully, Mason’s directions aren’t too difficult to follow and the café is easy enough to find.
I walk slowly, taking in the shop fronts, palm trees, bustling crowds, and street musicians. It’s a pleasant sort of busy and noisy. The sun beats down hotly already but there’s a cooling breeze coming off the Pacific making the walk bearable. I’m going to need more summer clothes though if I’m going to make this place my home.
Not that I have the money to go shopping just yet, and I refuse to use Mason’s. It’s bad enough he has to buy all the groceries and I can’t contribute to bills or anything else. I don’t like being unable to fend for myself and relying on the generosity of others. I’ve only just got Mason back; I’d hate for him to grow sick of me because he has to support me and sees me as a gold-digging freeloader. Rationally, I know he won’t feel that way, but the insecure part of my brain – the bit that still remembers the fresh wounds of heartache, is unreasonably hung up on my finances and lack thereof.
