by Lily Love
Kyle straightened up and nodded to his California king bed, which I knew was covered in the most glorious sheets I'd ever had the pleasure of fucking on. "Take off your clothes and get on the bed. On your back."
I kept my eyes down as I complied, standing to slowly peel my clothes off, knowing he liked the show. Once everything was in a pile at my feet, my nipples painfully erect and begging to be sucked on, I climbed onto the bed and waited. Silently, Kyle arranged me as he saw fit, spreading my arms and legs out—then tying them to the bed posts. I squirmed, the anticipation of what he'd do to me combined with the thrill of being bound.
As always, he was still totally dressed as he climbed onto the bed, and I moaned softly as he trailed soft kisses over my bare skin. I arched up, desperate for some extra attention to my breasts, but he skirted over them, instead placing little pecks down my stomach. My hands strained under their bindings—a silky tie that would hardly count as a restraint in any other situation—and he chuckled, sensing my frustration.
"I'm going to taste you now," he told me, his eyes flicking up to mine, and my breath caught in my throat. He might not have as many tells as I did when he was ready to fuck my brains out, but his eyes were always a pretty good indication of his mood. I bit down on my lower lip to hold back a whimper. "You'll only come when I give you permission."
When I gave no response, too wrapped up with the mental image of him satisfying me with his tongue, he pinched my ass—hard—and growled, "Is that understood?"
"Yes!"
"Good girl," Kyle murmured, smearing my damp arousal all over my folds before diving right in. I bucked the first time his tongue swept over me: I'd been waiting all week for this, holding off on touching myself because it was just so damn good when he did it. A cry slipped out. He was taking no prisoners, and I completely forgot about his order not to come. How could I focus on anything but the way his tongue worked me up, drawing from me a beautiful ecstasy that most other men ignored. He toyed with my clit, so sensitive that it almost hurt, and I moaned his name as he pinched, rolled, and flicked the aching bud between his fingers.
My orgasm was beyond glorious. So powerful, the pleasure ripping through me, that I felt a little lightheaded when it was all over. My limbs were no longer a part of my body, so flushed with bliss that I could barely feel them. When I came to, blinking the lusty fog away, I saw Kyle standing at the end of the bed, frowning, his arms crossed.
"I told you not to come," he said, and I tried not to roll my eyes. What did it matter? The orgasms he gave me were sublime: why would I hold back? "There is pleasure in being given permission to come… and now I'll have to punish you."
I sat up a little as he started untying me, panic making my chest tight. "What are you going to do?"
He said nothing as he worked, and I found that worse than being told my fate. Once he was through, Kyle stalked across the room and took a seat on a cushy bench beneath a window.
"Over my knee," he barked, gesturing for me to come to him with a nod of his head. I scuttled across the room, his tone leaving no room for argument, and hastily arranged myself over his lap. I knew what was coming as I pressed my palms to the soft, thick carpet, my head dangling down, but the first hit took my breath away. It was aimed squarely at the meat of my cheek, which jiggled at the force behind the blow. My skin warmed, and it grew hotter the longer he spanked me. He instructed me to count each hit aloud, and by the tenth spank, my ass buzzed.
The pain was… well, it was poignant, but my clit rubbed against his leg every time he spanked me, and by the end of my punishment, I was rearing to go all over again. One orgasm was never enough. But I waited, deferring to him as to what we’d do next.
As I struggled to collect myself, blood pounding in my ears, he gently massaged my aching buttocks, smoothing his hand over the sorest areas until they didn't feel quite so bad anymore.
"Are you ready to behave yet?" he asked, and I nodded frantically. "Then get on all fours at the end of the bed."
Yes!
I almost moaned in relief as I scrambled off his lap and crouched down on the floor at the edge of his bed. His heavy footsteps followed, deliberate and slow, and I watched with rapt fascination as he fed the same silk material from before through a small metal loop, hidden away by the dangling bed cover, and then bound my wrists. I was essentially stuck there, my wrists roped together, on all fours. A trail of arousal trickled down my thigh.
"Ass up, face down," he ordered, and I wiggled my butt at him as I pressed my cheek to the soft carpet. He left me for a moment, wandering to the other side of the room, and I almost straightened up to see what he was doing—but knew I'd been given a command. Choosing to wait was torturous, but worth it: when he returned, he carefully forced a small plug into my ass. Coated in lube, it slid right in as soon as I relaxed, and I let out a long, low groan.
"That's going to be me some day," he told me, his voice low and raspy. He'd been slowly working me over these last two months. It wasn't every occasion that he tested the hole I'd never let a man try before, but we'd worked up to two fingers—and I was ashamed to admit just how much I loved it.
But there was no way he could fit that huge cock inside that tight hole. No. Way. I giggled at the thought, which earned me two hard slaps to my already tender ass cheeks. I yelped with each hit.
"Don't be a pessimist," Kyle chided as he hooked an arm under my hips and dragged me back, stretching my arms to their fullest until the silken ties were taut. I tried to get a retort in, a few sitting on the tip of my tongue about the subject, but before I could, he thrust into me, filling me in one go. A shaky breath slipped through my slightly parted lips, and my cunt throbbed beautifully.
Sometimes we had romantic sex. We'd fuck for hours, lazily, slowly, softly, wrapped in one another's arms. It was wonderful, of course, but my favorite was when he took me hard and fast—and tonight there was no guessing which approach he'd take. Slamming into me over and over again, I couldn't contain my cries of delight anymore, the pleasure building again from the apex of my thighs. Heat flashed across my body, the telltale sign of a riveting climax, but I tried to hold off as long as I could. I hadn't been given permission, after all, and I wanted him to know I was a fast learner.
"Come for me, beautiful," he hissed, smacking my ass once, twice, three times, and I finally just let go, screaming into the carpet as my second orgasm rocked through me. I heard him laughing as I saw stars, spanking me a few more times for good measure, my body clenching around him over and over again. "Good girl."
My only response was a weak moan, barely able to stay upright on my knees as he slammed into me. Finally, when his pace grew erratic and my ass couldn't take the pounding of his muscular hips anymore, he pulled out, rolled me onto my back, and came on my flushed, sweaty tits. Hot spurts of white coated me thoroughly as he groaned, massaging his cock, milking every last drop.
Panting, he climbed off of me and untied my wrists, which were starting to hurt a little, and then dragged off his clothes. My body quivered as he pulled the plug out, a few lingering aftershocks of pleasure rolling through me.
"More," I groaned, only half meaning it as I sprawled out on his plush carpet. Kyle grinned, then disappeared into the bathroom. With my eyes closed, too relaxed to bother keeping them open, I heard him starting a bath.
"Never satisfied, my little sex goddess," he chuckled when he returned, and I opened my eyes when he grabbed my hand to help me up. "How about a bath instead?"
I spied a new bottle of wine in his other hand, then frowned as my world spun once upright. He held me steady, waiting, and I shot him a coy look as everything settled.
"This sex goddess accepts your offering of orgasms and wine," I fired back, stealing the bottle from him and making my way to the bathroom. Already the scent of vanilla suds and body lotions filled my nostrils, and I let out a contented sigh.
Light BDSM, wine, and a sexy man. Was there ever a more perfect evening?
"Anna, this is
Ethan. He'll be joining us for dinner this evening."
My eyebrows slowly scaled my forehead as I took in the tall drink of water standing next to Kyle. Both men towered over me, but this newcomer, Ethan, had a narrower build than my handsome billionaire. While Kyle had that gorgeous bulk from his shoulders downward, my eyes picked up a distinctly triangular shape to Ethan's torso, with wide muscular shoulders and a slimmer waist. A swimmer's body, if I wasn't mistaken. Where Kyle was dark hair and bright eyes, Ethan's dusty blond matched his light brown eyes. Each alluring in their own way.
Clearing my throat, I stepped inside and accepted my usual glass of red wine, realizing that I'd been gawking in silence. After Kyle took my coat, I extended my hand to the handsome stranger, smiling.
"Nice to meet you, Ethan."
"The pleasure's mine, Anna," he offered, and there was a faint lilt of an English accent—posh, upper-crust, like someone who spent their days playing polo and sipping tea on some countryside estate. A tingle shot through me when our hands clasped, his eyes fixed on mine. "Kyle's told me wonderful things about you."
"Oh?" I glanced over my shoulder at my Friday night fuck-buddy, an eyebrow arched. "Has he now?"
"Didn't you hear him say the wonderful part," Kyle asked with a laugh, placing his hand on my lower back and steering me toward the kitchen. "Don't look so skeptical."
I took of sip of my wine, biting back a moan as the glorious liquid flowed down my throat. It had been a really trying day at the library: I needed tonight.
As if sensing my stress, Kyle spent the better portion of our dinner hour spoiling me. My wine glass was never empty, though it was seldom ever full either, and I was always offered the first cut or spoonful of whatever found its way onto the dining table. Hell, I was even sitting at the head of said table, Kyle on my right and Ethan on my left, and spent much of our meal chatting with both. Ethan, it turned out, was another billionaire—which he admitted quite casually—and owned several clothing lines that showed throughout Europe.
However, from the way he talked about his life, I sensed he was more from old money than Kyle was, with his various manors in different countries. Thankfully, he lacked the snobbery I would have expected from someone of his status, and spent a lot of our time asking me questions about myself. Like Kyle, he seemed fascinated by the answers.
Kyle had yet to confirm my suspicions about Ethan's presence, but when he suggested we move to his sitting room, one of the few cozy rooms in the minimalist penthouse, I suspected Ethan would be there for the whole evening, not just dinner.
And as I walked, a little tipsy from the wine, my head thrown back in laughter at Ethan's joke about the city's bus system—it was awful—I decided that I wouldn't mind if the man stayed, either as an observer or an active participant. I'd spent half the meal imaging what those long, slim fingers could do to me, and wondering if he was as talented with his cock as Kyle. I should have known as soon as the thought popped into my head that I wanted Ethan to stay beyond dessert.
"I've forgotten the wine," Kyle announced as Ethan and I settled onto a soft leather couch in front of a fireplace. Already there was a low fire in the mantel, heating the room to the point where my skirt, tank-top, and black dress jacket felt too constricting. Kyle excused himself, leaving me alone with this new mysterious billionaire. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a thick rug in front of the fireplace—that was new. My panties grew damp: that rug might just feature in our evening, should we all play our cards right.
"I must apologize for intruding on your Friday routine," Ethan murmured. Sitting so close to one another, I could almost feel his body heat. Swirling my wine, I shook my head, a small smile on my lips, and then looked up at him.
"It's no trouble," I told him, holding his smoldering stare as best I could. "I've had a lot of fun so far."
Cautiously, he brought his hand up and smoothed my hair out of my face, his touch electric. I crossed my legs so that I could squeeze my clit, pleasure shooting through my core.
"You're as lovely as he said you'd be," he whispered as he leaned in, and I brought my chin up to let him claim my lips. After almost four months of Kyle’s rough, demanding kisses, I was actually a little startled by how gentle Ethan was. Cupping my face, he simply held me to him, lips barely pressed to mine, and just as I placed my hand on his chest, he pulled back. Short, uneven breaths made me chest heave, and I hastily set our wine glasses aside before climbing onto his lap.
Kyle had made me a bold lover, unafraid to take what I wanted—even if I was bent over a table or tied to a headboard. Surprise passed over Ethan's face, but it soon vanished, and a lusty growl slipped out as he dragged my head down. There were no gentle kisses this time. No, our mouths opened on impact, tongues twirling, teeth gnashing. His fingers raked through my hair, ripping out the pins I'd used to style it in a half-up-half-down look that morning. They plummeted to the couch, forgotten.
Heavy familiar footfalls came to a halt in the doorway, and I pulled back, panting. Kyle had returned with our wine, and I momentarily feared that this was not the way the evening was meant to go. My fear dissipated, however, as Ethan ran his lips over my neck, and gaze locked on mine, Kyle took a chug from the wine bottle before stalking toward us. I trembled, unused to the affections of two men, but acutely aware that I wouldn't be able to say that after tonight.
As Ethan lavished my neck with affection, Kyle fisted his hand in my loose hair and yanked it back, claiming me with a dominating kiss. I squealed against his lips just as Ethan gave both nipples a pinch through my clothes. How could I possibly do this? How would I ever be able to focus on both men?
It was a challenge I readily accepted.
Ethan stood without a word, and I scrambled to stay upright—only to realize my efforts were wasted. Kyle hoisted me up, and both men moved me to the rug in front of the fire. It was there, my bare feet sunk into the sumptuous material, that I let go of myself and placed my body into the hands of these two gorgeous men. As Kyle continued to kiss me, his tongue soaked in wine and so much more insistent than Ethan's had been, the newcomer sunk to his knees and pulled my damp underwear off. Once I'd stepped out of the fabric, he lay on his back beneath me, then, to my shock, tried to pull me down to sit on his face. I hesitated, but Kyle's steady pressure on my shoulders had me moving again.
As soon as I'd sunk down as low as I dared go, I felt the first lick—and once more, electricity shot through me. It made the hairs on my arms stand up, my skin covered in excited little bumps, and I almost lost myself right there when Ethan wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled my pussy closer to his eager mouth. As much as I wanted to just give in and enjoy the sensations, I was given a task soon enough: Kyle. He unzipped his trousers and produced that magnificent cock I worshipped weekly, and I set to work without prompting. Sliding my tongue up and down, I soon sheathed the tip in my mouth, taking him in slowly, enjoying the way his eyes darkened with need.
My first orgasm snuck up on me. I'd been so focused on getting Kyle as deep as I could go that the sensation washed over me without me noticing it'd been building up in the first place. I cried out, my head falling back as I rode Ethan's face until the little pleasurable waves had all passed.
"Oh my god," I moaned, face flushed, coated in sweat. Kyle quickly saw to my clothes, yanking my jacket off and pulling my tank-top over my head. Bra gone, my tits bounced free, eager for either man's attention. Ethan's nimble fingers unlatched the clip on my skirt, and as I stood, he tugged the material down my thighs.
"Ethan," Kyle said as the man below me scooted out, his face red and his lips drenched in my juices, "would you like to see how glorious her mouth is?"
"Yes," the man replied, and I quickly fell to my knees again, getting to work on his belt buckle. "I think it's only fair, after all."
Arching my ass up, I flinched when Kyle gave it a few light slaps, and then hastily pulled Ethan's cock free. It was slimmer than Kyle's, which I'd expected, but no less a challenge to take
in. He groaned when I wrapped my lips around the tip, and just as I pushed down, questing to reach the base on the first go, Kyle mimicked my movement with his cock, slowly sliding it into my drenched cunt. I moaned, the vibrations making Ethan twitch, and once more lost myself in both men. It was harder to concentrate on bobbing my head up and down with Kyle hammering into me from behind, his hips slamming into mine, so forcefully that I almost had to stop sucking off Ethan.
Almost. This was a challenge I planned to see through. I nearly lost it, however, when Kyle reached around to pinch my clit, taking me in short, sharp thrusts, until I was climaxing all over again—this time with Ethan's cock stuffed in my mouth.
From there, the men moved like dancers with a routine so choreographed that I had to wonder if they'd done this before. Ethan climbed back up onto the couch and pulled me into his lap, Kyle's stare burning holes in my back. I didn't protest, not even when he pulled me down onto that sizeable shaft, my body limp from the second orgasm. I leaned forward, panting, as he started to fuck me, his hands in my hair. He even kissed me, brushing his lips over mine as I rode him.
It was then, just as I'd settled into an easy rhythm, that I felt Kyle take me by the shoulders and push me forward. All these long months he'd been working toward one thing: slowly but surely, he wanted to fuck me in the ass. His thick tip pressed against the hole, and I inhaled sharply, but under his gentle massaging and Ethan's soothing kisses, I relaxed enough for him to push in. Where he'd found the lube—I had no idea. Had I been so wrapped up in riding Ethan that I hadn't even noticed Kyle leave and return?
But I was grateful he did. The fit was tight, more so than any of his plugs or toys had been, and without the lube it would have been painful. With it, I was in heaven. I'd always liked having both holes filled, but as Kyle pushed deeper and deeper into me, this was taking my previous enjoyment to a whole new level. I groaned once he'd sheathed his whole cock in me, still rocking on Ethan's solid length, and once more I was helplessly pinned between two men—and all I could do was hang on for the ride.
