by Qwillia Rain
Just the idea made him hard and aching, Vince growled under his breath, slowly opening his eyes, shuttling the images into the tight little box he’d created for them when he first met Triss. Soon, he assured himself. Soon.
After allowing his eyesight to adjust to the night, Vince located her in her bedroom. Through the almost closed curtains, he watched her. If she turned her head she’d see him. Would she run when he pushed? Or would she push back?
Propped against the pillows, she slouched in bed, a book of some sort open on her lap. She scribbled away inside it. Another journal? The light beside her bed spilled over her shoulder as she hunched over the book, the pen moving furiously across the page. She’d pause, chew on the end of the pen, and begin again.
Time to start.
He selected her number and pressed the send key before tucking the cell into his shirt pocket. A smile tugged at his lips when he watched her jump at the ring of her phone.
Triss knew it was him before she picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“You started our game without me, pet.” Vince’s rebuke whispered against her ear.
“I didn’t.” Triss denied, then recalled the scene she’d been writing.
“I saw you, Treats. You were flushed, just like you get before you climax.”
The flare of his lighter cut through the fog beginning to form. Through the half-closed curtains of her bedroom window, she could see him on the balcony of his condo across the street. “I was working on a scene.” No way was she going to confess that the scene was about him. “I’m kinda tired, maybe we should --”
“Then let me relax you. Go turn on your bathroom light and take off your clothes.”
There was no give in his voice. She either followed his commands or … Or what? There were some nights Triss worried that what she was doing was wrong. That the good girl she’d been brought up to be was slowly losing ground to the dark, fantasy driven bad girl Vince’s attention coaxed out of her. “We should stop. This isn’t right.” Even as she protested, Triss did as instructed, shutting off the lamp on her nightstand and moving into the adjacent bathroom and turning on the small nightlight.
It provided enough illumination she could clearly see her bed.
Much as she might fight it, there was no denying she wanted it. Wanted this. Wanted Vince commanding her.
Vince chuckled. “How isn’t it right, hon? Neither of us are married or in a relationship. And you know you love it when I make you come. Almost as much as I love doing it.”
Triss couldn’t deny he was correct.
“Put the phone on speaker. I want to tell you a story while you disrobe. Once you’re naked, get out the vibrator I gave you for your birthday and get on the bed.”
Triss hesitated, her body throbbing, the crease between her thighs hot and growing wetter by the moment. “I don’t think I should do this.”
“Then tell me to stop calling and hang up the phone. I’ll never force you, Triss. It’s all about giving you pleasure.”
He wasn’t lying. His words weren’t empty promises. Triss knew if she said the words, he’d hang up and never contact her again. And she didn’t want that. “Do you want me to get the lube out as well.” She’d made her decision. For now.
“Are you wet?”
Triss felt her cheeks grow hot. “Yes.”
A rumbling purr sounded through the phone. “Then we don’t need the lube.”
“Okay.” Triss activated the speaker and set the phone on her bed. From the nightstand she grabbed the vibrator he’d given her but she’d never used, and tossed it onto the bed. When her hands reached up to pull her tee shirt over her head, Vince began speaking.
“This afternoon, when we ran into each other in the breezeway, I imagined stripping your jeans down your legs and eating your sweet little pussy.”
Triss gasped at the visuals blooming in her mind. “What if someone --”
“I wanted that. Think how good I could make you feel, pet. My mouth, my fingers, my tongue fucking in and out of your tight body while another man watches. Sees how hot, how wet you are, knowing he can’t touch you. Unless I say he can.”
Naked, Triss collapsed onto the bed, arousal weakening her legs, making her head spin. “Would you?”
Vince didn’t ask what she meant. He knew. “Let him touch?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to? Shall I share you, pet? Let other men caress those round tits and perfect nipples. Allow their mouths, their fingers, their cocks to fill your wet pussy.”
The good girl inside her cringed at the thought of Vince allowing other men to use her body.
Watch me? Yes. Fuck me? Nuh uh.
Despite her interest in sex and all the varied ways of doing it, she’d never given in to the temptation of sex for sex’s sake. She believed she was worth more than that. Even her bad girl side shied away from indiscriminant sex. If passing her around like an hors d’oeuvre turned him on, she should rethink what attracted her to the man in the first place.
“Do you want me to share you, Treats?”
She could almost feel the tension in his voice. It confused her. Did he want her to say yes or no?
He seemed to sense her unease. “The truth.”
Stretched out on her bed she drew a deep breath and answered. “No.”
The tension dissipated. Satisfaction filled his voice. “Very good, pet. I don’t share. You need to remember that. Only my mouth, my tongue, my fingers and my cock touch you. Understood?”
A shiver moved through Triss as she recalled typing the exact words hours earlier. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
No matter how she tried to deny it, she loved this part of their phone calls. “Yes, Master.”
“Oh, yes, Treats. You belong to me.” His tone hardened. “Now show your Master how beautiful you are, pet.”
Triss arched her body then slowly relaxed onto the bed. Her breasts ached, the nipples tight and hard. A flush covered her skin.
“Are you hot, pet?”
“Embarrassed.”
“Why? Your master likes looking at you. Your breasts are full and round, perfect for holding, caressing. Show me how you want to be touched.”
Her movements were jerky, self-conscious. She could hear Vince’s sigh over the phone.
“I want to be there, beside you. Close your eyes.”
Her eyes fluttered shut.
He kept his voice soft, the way she did when reading her nephews and nieces fairy tales. “As your master, there are lessons I have to teach you, but you’ve been a naughty sub, Treats.”
“No, I -- ”
“Yes, you have. Running away and not following instructions immediately. Coming without permission.”
Triss gasped. Why did that hint of censure in his voice turn her liquid inside?
Vince growled, “I saw you and I know you climaxed at least twice without asking permission, baby. Spread your legs.”
Triss did so, her hands never leaving her breasts. While she gave into his commands, it felt good. The recriminations and self-disgust that would come later, she could deal with then. Now she sank into the fantasy he offered.
“Your pussy is mine, isn’t it?”
“Y--yes.”
“Remember, you must say ‘yes, Master’ when you address me, pet.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good girl. I’m in the room watching you prepare yourself for me.”
A soft moan echoed in her quiet bedroom.
“Your nipples must be tighter. I have special clips for them, but they can’t go on unless they’re plump and hard.”
The sting and pressure of her fingers on her nipples hastened her breath. Expectation swelled her breasts. She could imagine the pinch of clips around each crest. But imagining and actually feeling were two different things.
“Are they hard, pet?”
“Mmm. Yes, Master.”
“Hmm. I think I’ll wait until next time to let you feel your clips.�
�
Need edged her voice. “Please.”
“Please what?”
She recognized her error immediately. “Please, Master.”
“No. You failed to address me when asking.”
Triss whimpered, but she didn’t stop playing with her breasts. Her legs shifted on the bed, knees coming up as her hips tilted. The pressure was building inside. Twisting tighter and tighter.
“Are you wet, Treats? Is that tight little pussy of yours wanting my cock to fill it up?”
The warm slide of her juices dampened her thighs, stained the sheet beneath her. “Yes, Master.”
“How wet, baby?”
“Very, Master.”
“Not enough, I think. Show me. Open those sweet lips and show me how wet and pink you are.”
Vince almost laughed at the languid slide of Treats’ hands from her breasts to her sex. The girl had figured out the game weeks ago and enjoyed it completely. The stroke of her fingertips over her skin was an aphrodisiac to both of them. When she finally reached between her thighs, his moan mingled with her louder one. He quit stroking his cock and returned his hand to the balcony where he’d set his coffee cup. “That’s it, baby. Tell me how slick you are.”
“Oh, Master, I’m wet. I ache.” One hand returned to her breast, while the fingers of her other hand rubbed between her thighs.
“Find your clit. Don’t go inside, you’re not allowed there. Only my cock comes inside you.” He gripped his coffee cup in his left hand.
“Please, Master. I need it.” A sob filled Triss’s voice, but she obeyed his commands.
“Your clit, Treats. Rub it.” He took a sip of coffee to steady him. The surprised gasp brought a smile to his lips. “Oh yes, that’s my girl.”
He couldn’t see her fingers, but he could imagine them. The smooth tips, nails short and neat, stroking through soft brown curls while she touched herself. Her lips parted and Vince heard the moan as she worked her sensitive flesh to a hard little nub.
“That’s it, Treats,” he encouraged her softly. His coffee forgotten, he focused on the sight of the woman across the street pleasuring herself. He could see the restless shift of her legs. The increased movements of her hand.
“I -- I can’t --” she sobbed, her body arching against the mattress, her head pressing back into her pillow.
“Harder, Treats. You have to get that tight pussy ready for me. Wet for me.”
“I can’t -- It won’t -- ” Triss sobbed, frustration in her voice.
Vince cursed. “I won’t fuck you if you aren’t wet enough. Don’t you want my cock pushing into you? Can’t you feel me there, spreading you open, shoving inside, filling you up?”
That seemed to do it, just like it did every time they played this game. Triss cried out, her hips coming off the bed, body taut with climax.
Vince cursed softly as the hot brew in his cup splashed onto his fingers when he jolted upright in response to Treats’ shift in the bed. He drank from his cup, forcing himself to calm down, keeping his attention on the apartment window, watching as Treats went limp on the bed. Something bumped against the phone.
The vibrator. As blissed out as Treats sounded, there would be no playing with the vibe tonight. “Put the vibrator back in your drawer, honey.”
“But, aren’t we --” her voice was confused and heavy with sleep.
“Not tonight, Treats.”
He watched her roll onto her side and fumble with nightstand, the sounds over the phone adding to the display. “If I knocked on your door tonight, would you let me in, pet?”
The tinny echo was gone alerting him to the fact she’d taken the phone off speaker, when she rolled back onto the bed and stared out the window at him. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think I’m ready.”
Vince bit back the denial that came to his lips. “Don’t you like what I can do for you?”
Her sigh was a soft noise in his ear, the breeze echoed it, drifting across his cheek, leaving droplets of fog like teardrops against his skin. A premonition of loss had him fighting the urge to race across the street and up to her apartment.
“Yes and no.”
He’d never dealt with a woman who didn’t like being dominated. Not since he’d begun exploring the lifestyle twenty years ago. She pushed his control. He enjoyed it; thrived on the challenge she represented to him. Now to get Triss to admit she liked giving up control to him. “Yes or no.”
A gusty sigh vibrated through the phone. “Both.”
He watched her tug the covers to her chin. He didn’t order her to pull them off, they’d left master and sub behind when she came. This was aftercare. The point where they discussed things as equals and explored how the play effected them. He pulled a cigarette from the pack and lit it. Her wellbeing was more important than the climax he could coax from her. “I can understand the yes. Why no?”
She seemed to watch him from across the street. “I don’t like what you can do for me because it isn’t right.”
He wanted her to put it into words. “You don’t like coming for me?”
A throaty laugh answered him. “I love coming for you. But I shouldn’t.”
Closer. He could feel the crux of her protests just below the surface. If she didn’t face it now, he’d simply have to work a bit harder to chip away at it. “Why?’
“Because it isn’t right.”
He detected a mixture of confusion and irritation in her voice. That good girl upbringing rearing its nasty head. “Tell me why it isn’t right.”
A heavy groan eased out of her. “I can’t. I can’t figure it out for myself. How am I supposed to explain it to you?”
“Do you want to take this to the next level, Treats?” He’d push until the submissive within her either stepped forward or Triss told him to leave her alone.
Disappointment tinged her voice. “Not yet.”
It was clear he’d pushed as much as possible for the night. There was always tomorrow. He allowed her breathing space. “Are you nice and relaxed.”
She paused, as if uncertain of the tack he was attempting to take. “Oh yes. Very relaxed. Thank you.”
“Say it.”
She didn’t ask what he meant. “Master. Thank you, Master.”
“Sleep well, pet.” He disconnected the phone and watched her roll onto her stomach. She glanced out the window at him one last time before she closed her eyes.
He waited in the cool night air for his body to relax, sipping his coffee. When the cup was empty, and he was sure Treats was sound asleep, he moved back into his condo, rinsed the cup in the sink, and tucked it into the dishwasher. He dealt with the coffee pot and maker, preparing it for the morning timer. In his bedroom, he stripped off his clothes and slid into bed, his body aching, his hard cock protesting the lack of female attention in the last year.
“Down boy,” he grunted and rolled onto his side. He gazed out the window toward the darkened balcony and bedroom window of Treats’ apartment. Shutting his eyes, he groaned at the vision taking shape in his mind. The soft stroke of Treats’ fingers over her throat, down to her full breasts, the dark pink crowns tight with arousal while she watched him, tempting him as she pinched the crests between her fingertips and tugged.
He smiled, ignoring the ache of his arousal. She was the one and she was ready, despite her reservations. Now he only needed to finish his plan. Step one complete. Tomorrow night, step two.
Chapter Four
The keys clicked at a steady rate beneath her fingertips. Triss barely glanced at her hands as she transcribed the notes from the previous day onto the page. The scene unfolded in a long sensual description she was aware of only peripherally. In her head the next scenes were developing, taking shape. She paused to turn the page in the journal and shake out the ache in her fingers.
Images from the previous night splashed across her mind, sending a surge of arousal through her body. The heat of anger quickly followed snuffing out the
sexual stirrings. Letting him tell her what to do went against every lesson she’d ever learned about respecting herself as a person and as a woman. Every time she took a moment to relax, it all came rushing back to her, eroding her focus. Worse, the irritation felt forced after each call.
The good girl part of her berated her non-stop. It was like this every time she played with Vince on the phone. It wasn’t real and she shouldn’t enjoy it as much as she did. The pleasure in submitting gained strength with each phone call. If she wasn’t careful she’d slide into the role of submissive without a protest.
Not only had the sexy game with Vince stolen too much time from her schedule today, but thinking about him and his commands had to stop. If she was going to reach her goal of getting caught up on her writing before the end of the evening, she needed to concentrate.
Her cell phone jangled beside her. Her heart stopped until she saw who the caller was. A quick glance at the tray on her computer and Triss grimaced. After six and she still had -- she flipped through the pages of the journal -- eight pages to input, plus go through emails before she could even think about stopping for the night. She accepted the call and tucked the phone between her shoulder and her ear, before returning her attention to her story.
“Hey, Jynn, how are you?”
“Hungry.” The gentle laugh sounded in Triss’s ear, as her friend continued, “Meet me at the Bistro for some dinner, will ya? I’ve been stuck inside all day.”
Triss’s fingers slowed on the keys, “I have a deadline, I really should…”
“Please, Triss, I’m going crazy here. I’ve been coding CSS pages since ten and I’m starving!”
A soft rumble from her own stomach reminded her that lunch had consisted of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich six hours ago. A small sandwich she’d wolfed down as she headed across the street to clean one of two condos that afternoon. “Oh, all right, but I can only be gone for two hours, no more than that.”
