by Whitley Cox
“Good,” was all he said. I knew he was happy Harper and I were taking it slow. His own mother had remarried much too quickly, in Ben’s opinion anyway, then started a new family with her new husband. Ben had two half-siblings substantially younger than him and a mother and stepfather who lived only a couple of hours away, yet he rarely saw them. It didn’t matter that Ben had been ten at the time of his parents’ divorce; he’d felt replaced. He was a constant reminder of the broken family, in his mother’s renovated one. Which was why, when he was fourteen, he’d moved to Samoa to live with his dad until he was in his early twenties.
I finished taping up my other hand, chucked the tape roll into the locker and shut it. “Ready?”
“Are you ready to get your ass kicked?” He grinned, slapping me on the back.
I snatched up my water and led the way out. “As long as you don’t maim the money maker, I’m cool with it.”
He snorted. “You think your face is that pretty?”
Shaking my head, I stepped into the ring. “That’s not the money maker.” I held up my right hand. “This is the money maker. Kick my face if you have to, just don’t fuck up my hand. My kids need to eat.”
His chuckle came at me loud and fierce at the same time as his knee jabbed me in the ribs.
Shit. I was going to feel that one later.
Tipping back a beer, I made my way to my bed and lay down. The clock on my nightstand said 9:55. Harper had five minutes. Then I was going to call her, and I was going to make her come. Well … she was going to make herself come, but I was going to help. My cock surged to life in my plaid pajama pants as I got myself comfortable and pulled out my phone. It said 9:56, but I didn’t care. I wanted to hear her voice. I just hoped to God she was still awake. Some nights it was a struggle to keep my eyes open past nine-thirty.
I dialed her number.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” I asked, her sexy voice making my dick jump and rise to the occasion. I put my phone on speaker, cranked the volume, then rested it on my nightstand.
“In bed.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“What are you wearing?”
There was a slight pause. “Nothing.”
“Are you being honest?”
“Do you want me to send you a picture?”
Abso-fucking-lutely. And I was about to say as much but stopped myself. “No.”
“Why?” She almost sounded disappointed.
“Because the first time I see your naked body, I want to be able to touch it. I want you in 3D, in the flesh.”
“Sam … ”
“Are you touching yourself, Harper?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Are you wet?”
“A little.”
“You know what I’d like to do to you?”
“No.” Her voice was breathy and a little strained. I shut my eyes, envisioning her slender fingers spreading her folds and dipping inside her sweet heat.
“I’d love nothing more than to take those handcuffs of yours, fasten your hands behind your back, flip you over on to your belly, tug you down to the edge of the bed and fuck you hard and fast as I spank your ass. Would you like that?”
I heard her inhale quickly, followed by a low moan which morphed into a purr.
“Would you like that?” I asked again, this time making sure to put more command into my tone. She seemed to respond better when I adopted a dominant role. I let my hand settle on my cock. God, how I’d love to top her. The more I got to know her, the more I got the feeling Harper was sexually submissive. Confident and independent during the day, but aching to be controlled at night.
Just my type.
I gave my shaft a couple of quick tugs.
“Yes,” she said breathlessly.
“Me too.” I swallowed. My mouth was dry. I took a sip of my beer before continuing. “Back to the shower. You’re a filthy girl and need to get clean. Can you get clean, Harper?”
“I-I’m not sure … ”
“Do you need my help?”
“Yes. Please.”
“I’m on my knees in the shower, and I’ve spread your sweet pussy lips, they’re already so plump. Using a finger, I test to see how wet you are. You’re so wet. How many fingers do you want, Harper?”
“Huh?”
God, all I wanted to do right now was see her. Watch as she pleasured herself. Her head was probably tossed back into her pillows, her eyes closed, lips parted just slightly as she fingered her slippery folds.
“How many fingers?” I raised my voice a little, hoping to snap her back to attention.
“Uh, oh, uh, t-two.”
“I push two fingers inside you and feel you tighten around them. In and out I pump. I bring my lips forward and flick your clit with my tongue. Do you like that?”
“Yes.”
“You like it when I tease your clit?”
“Yes.”
“Back and forth I flick, but you’re not allowed to come yet.” I could tell by the way her breath came across the phone in tight and short gasps that she was probably already rather close. I wanted this to last. I wanted to savor the sound of her pleasure for as long as I could. It would be another week before we had our shot, and I wanted something for us to take to bed with us for the next seven days. “What would you like me to do now?”
“Suck my clit. Suck it hard.”
Well, that came out faster than I had expected. Maybe she wasn’t such a timid little submissive as I thought.
I hummed. “Hmmm. I like that idea. I bring your clit into my mouth and suck. It swells in my mouth, and you gush over my fingers. You’re so wet now, Harper. You’re dripping. You taste like honey, so fucking sweet.”
“Yes. So wet for you.” Her voice was scarcely a whisper, but even that came out strangled.
“Are you touching yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s your toy?”
“Next to me.”
“Turn it on and slip it inside your pussy.”
“Okay.”
Within seconds the faint buzzing sound of her vibrator came across the phone, and I stilled my hand on my cock. I would come if I didn’t get a handle on things. The idea of Harper sliding that big blue silicone cock into her slick heat was driving me mad. That should be me. She deserved nothing but the real thing. But for now, we’d have to improvise.
“Fuck yourself with it.”
“I am.”
“Does it feel good?”
“Yes. But I bet you’d feel better.”
“Good answer. Just as you’re about to come, I release your clit and stand up.”
She whimpered, her breathing still coming out laboured and ragged.
I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from chuckling.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you. I spin you around and bend you over. You brace your hands on the wall as I knee your legs apart. And tease your sweet, wet pussy with the head of my cock.”
“Oh God.”
“Does that feel good?”
“S-so good.”
“Bracing my hands on your hips, I slowly sink inside you. You’re so tight.”
“You bet I fucking am,” she gritted.
Again I had to keep from laughing. I bet she was. I finished off my beer and brought my pajama pants down and over my cock. It sprung free and thwacked against my belly. I took the heavy weight in my palm and stroked it. A bead of pre-cum dribbled out of the dark purple head, and I swirled it around the crown with my thumb. Oh, how I wished my thumb was Harper’s tongue.
“Do you want to take me in your mouth?”
“Yes.”
God, I bet she gave great head. If the way she ate cheesecake was any indication of her mouth and tongue skills, one of the first things I’d have her do, when we finally got our shot, was have her suck my cock.
“Now?”
> “No,” she said. “Let me finish. Pull out and come in my mouth.”
Jesus Christ, she was perfect.
I groaned. “Oh, God. ’Kay.” Fuck, now my breath was coming out ragged. I eased up my stroking, but my balls were tight and painful. It didn’t matter that I’d jerked off last night when I got home from Harper’s; the thought of her and her perfect little body, her perfect little mouth had left me hard for the better part of the day. My balls were blue.
“Harder, Sam. Fuck me harder, please.”
“Oh, baby. I fuck you so hard. You’re so tight. So wet. So hot. I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock. It’s like you were made for me.”
“I’m close,” she whispered.
“Come, Harper. I want to hear you come. I reach around with one hand and flick your clit.”
“More,” she panted.
“I take your clit between my finger and thumb and pinch.”
“Yes! Oh fuck! I’m c— Oh. God!”
The sound of Harper coming was incredible. I was teetering on the edge, the ground was crumbling away beneath my feet, and the world was tilting. I was going to fall. It was imminent. But I wanted to come in her mouth.
“You pull out, and I quickly spin around and drop back to my knees.” She was back, and although slightly out of breath, ready to help me get there.
“Yes. I grab a fistful of your wet hair and guide you onto my cock.”
“You’re so big. I’m not sure I can take all of it.”
Oh, she was good. Even with post-orgasm brain, the woman was good.
“Yes, you can. You will. I pull your hair, and you open your mouth.”
“I take you to the back of my throat. Your head knocks my tonsils, but I don’t gag. I’ve never had anyone so big in my mouth before.”
“Damn straight,” I grunted.
“Using my hand, I begin to pump. My head bobs up and down and I let my tongue run along the length of your silky smooth skin. God, you feel so good in my mouth.”
“I’m close, Harper.”
“Come for me, baby.”
My balls tightened, and my shaft started to pulse in my hand. With my free hand, I reached for a tissue off the nightstand and came into it, my other hand still rhythmically stroking my cock as I continued to come. I closed my eyes as the last of my orgasm unfurled, envisioning Harper on her knees in front of me, her eyes wide and smiling at me as she sucked me dry, swallowing my seed and licking me clean.
I let out an exhausted sigh and slumped back into the pillows. “That was … ”
“Fun.” Her girlish giggle lifted my heart.
It was fun. Not to mention hot and dirty. But I’m glad she said fun first. I liked a girl who knew how to have fun.
“I thought you were going to handcuff me and fuck me from behind?” she said innocently.
Well, fuck if my sluggish dick didn’t twitch in response.
Down, boy.
“I thought about it,” I said casually, meanwhile inside I was anything but. The idea of this woman handcuffed and spread-eagle before me would be all I would think about for the next seven days. I wanted to tan her ass and make her mine, have her begging for my punishment, begging for my cock. “But I realized I want to save that for when we’re in person. Some things should only be experienced in real life. Don’t you think?”
She hummed provocatively and sleepily into the phone. “Mhmm.”
“But you’d be okay if I restrained you?”
“Mhmm.”
“What about—”
She cut me off. “I trust you, Sam. You can do to me whatever you want. I trust you not to hurt me or push me past my limits. I’m open to whatever. You have an all access pass.”
Fuck almighty, at this rate I’d never sleep. Not with the ideas my “other head” was currently cooking up. I glared at my slowly stiffening cock. “You’re no help,” I whispered to it.
“What was that?”
“Oh, uh. N-nothing, sorry. Harper, I’ll never hurt you.”
“I know that.”
“But I do like it rough. I like to play. I like to dominate. I like to punish.”
“Have you trained?”
“As a Dom?”
“Yeah?”
“I did, yes.”
“Wow.”
“I want you to know, though, it doesn’t always have to be like that. In fact, I prefer to just play. I’m not interested in a Dom/sub relationship. I trained under a highly respected Dom here in Vancouver for a couple of years so that I could learn how to punish and play without hurting anyone. There will be no head games. No mind fuck. I just prefer to be the one in control in the bedroom. The one giving the orders.”
“And doling out the punishment.”
“Yes.” I twisted my lip in thought. “Are you interested in doling out punishment?”
“No.”
“Are you interested in dominating?”
“No.”
I let out a sigh of relief. I had no problem letting a woman take the reins once in a while, and a woman on top was sexy as hell, but I wasn’t interested in a power struggle. I’d done enough battling and struggling in a relationship with Meegan to last a lifetime. And none of that had even been in the bedroom.
“So you’re willing to take what I do to you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any hard limits?”
“Ummm … ”
Shit!
She was thinking about it. Did that mean she had some hard limits?
“Nothing weird or icky … like scat play or golden showers.”
A breath left my mouth in a loud whoosh.
Oh, thank God.
“Me either. Anything else?”
“I-I’m not interested in sharing.”
“You mean like a threesome?”
“Yeah.”
Fantastic!
Neither was I. I’d had a couple back in university, but I hadn’t been in a relationship with either of the women. But as far as a threesome with a woman I was attached to, no way in hell. Man, woman or other, I was not the sharing kind.
“A-are you?” she asked. “Do you want to have a threesome?” Wow, we hadn’t even had sex yet, and already she was busting out the big questions. I was impressed, but I also half-expected her to ask me my fuck-number next. Not that it was outrageously high, or anything to be ashamed of, but I wasn’t prepared to divulge that quite yet.
“No.”
“Oh, good.”
“We should be enough for each other.”
“I agree.”
I was hard again. Knowing that she wasn’t denying me access to her ass, to tying her up, spanking her, flogging her, clamping her nipples or gagging her, and that I was all she wanted, all she needed was turning me on like crazy.
“But you should know,” she started, “I’m not overly experienced in the ways of BDSM.”
“That’s okay.”
“I can’t wait for next weekend,” she softly.
I growled. “Me too.”
“You’ll call me later in the week?”
“Absolutely.”
“And eye-fuck the bejesus out of me at playgroup on Monday?” Her giggle wasn’t girly, but instead deep and raspy, like a sexy porn star who smoked a pack a day.
I ran my free hand over my abs and gave my cock a quick tug. I was too tired for another orgasm. He’d have to wait until tomorrow.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said with a big yawn. “Make sure you wear something that shows off those delicious elbows of yours.”
She laughed again. “I will if you will.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. My eyelids were drooping. I needed to brush my teeth and take out my contacts before I hit the hay. I yawned again before saying, “You’re on.”
“Goodnight, Sam. Thank you for calling.”
“Goodnight, Harper. Thank you for answering.”
She hung up. I looked down at my dick, and the dark purple head practically winked at me. Just talking
to the woman made me hard and randy as hell. I took myself in my hand and began to stroke. “Fine, you fucker. One more, and then you let me sleep.”
Chapter 11
Harper
It was Monday morning, and the weather was gross. No, gross is an understatement. It was downright disgusting. Sunday morning, the wind had picked up to the point where Rick was worried it was going to peel the gutters off the roof. Then by the evening, the freezing rain joined the assault and had continued on into the next morning. It’d been a struggle to get out the door in the morning. The wind kept pushing the icy rain right into my and Carly’s eyes and blowing us backward and almost down the steps to our suite. But we made it to playgroup, and as quickly as I opened the door to escape Mother Nature’s bitchy way, I turned around and shut it. Carly took off in the direction of the gym, while I stomped my feet and shook myself hoping to rid my jacket of most of the raindrops.
The hoots and hollers of happy children emanated from the gym, along with the murmur of adults and the smell of fresh coffee. The rec center always put fresh coffee on for the parents, but not too many of us took advantage of it, as it was sewage water. Some super cheap no-name stuff. Fine in a pinch, but when I had a French press at home and a to-go cup, as well as the Starbucks app on my phone I considered the rec center coffee brown sadness water that just kept you awake. I couldn’t even be friends with a person who drank decaf. That was just nuts.
Slouching out of my jacket, I rounded the corner. Carly was sitting on the floor and pulling off her boots. She had one arm out of her winter coat, but like usual, struggled to get the other arm out. I crouched down and helped her, but she managed to do her boots all on her own. She pulled off her socks, too, even though the gym wasn’t overly warm, but we’d learned early on that socked feet on a gym floor were deadly. Connie’s little guy had split his head open when he crashed into a wall just before Thanksgiving last year. Now there were signs everywhere that said: “Indoor shoes or bare feet. NO SOCKS!”
Carly took off to the dinosaurs, having been forced to leave her own stash in the car. Within a matter of seconds, her loose-fitting tucked-in shirt was full of them, and she was wandering around with a T-Rex in one hand and Triceratops in the other, babbling happily to other kids.
I spotted my mom posse off in our usual corner and, after hanging up my coat, headed over. There weren’t too many yet, just Amy, Connie and Monique. Without trying to be too obvious, I scanned the gym and book corner for a sexy red-headed Dom with eyes of blue fire and a smile that made me cream my jeans, but he was nowhere to be found. A flash of red off in the corner revealed Gemma petering around in one of the plastic cars. So he was here. He just wasn’t in here.
