by Jaye Peaches
I lowered myself, shuffled down between his legs. The tip of my tongue touched the smooth sheath of his cock and I licked his tiny slit. He juddered and let out a groan.
“Oh, yes,” he muttered.
I looked up straight into his wide-awake eyes. The man had desperate written all over him. I’d hit his weak spot. His sensitive cock rested against my lower lip. The taste of him lingered on my tongue. A good taste—clean, salty, tempting.
“Strip.”
I loved the way he commanded me. Just like his conducting voice, but sexier. I peeled away my top, stretching my arms up to the ceiling. Next, I unclasped my bra, twirled it around before tossing it over my shoulder.
“Teaser,” he growled.
“More?” I paraded my breasts, sashaying them gently, and the nipples stood erect.
“Damn right.” He grabbed my zipper.
I slapped his hand away. “Patience.”
I heaved my body off him and wriggled out of my slacks and panties, letting them drift down my legs, then kicked them off.
“Get back here.” The same insistent voice.
My pussy clenched.
I knelt between his legs, which he spread open for me, and his erection twitched.
I would test him. Make him wait—prove to me he could control this manly beast. I ringed my hands around his shaft. Its stiff girth embodied strength and power. The desire to have him buried in me flourished and I kept it at bay, breathing from my diaphragm, just as he had taught me. He spoke of self-control—it extended to me too. The blood gushed through his penis, swelling it further, and the skin moved over the rigid scaffold, the rippling, vibrant energy transmitting across the gap between us and into my lower belly. Inspired, I rocked my hips back and forth, brandishing my breasts right in front of his eyes. I drooled, salivating in anticipation.
He shot a hand out, but I tossed my head backward, out of reach. I shook my head. “Patience,” I reiterated, masturbating his cock.
Another deep growl. In frustration, he clenched his fingers into white-knuckled bunches.
“You don’t like this, do you?” I held his cock tighter, massaging its shaft with my thumbs.
He gasped loudly. He smashed his fists down on the mattress.
“Damn it, Mausi.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “Suck me.”
“Now who’s conducting? Heh, shall I do this as a slow movement, largo? Or andante, a sedate walking pace.”
“Allegro.” He lifted his hips off the bed.
“Fast. I thought you were going to show me your wonderful sense of control.” I pinched the foreskin, stretching it upward.
He panted. “Let me come in your mouth. Please,” he moaned.
I had him on the edge. His thick cock leaked pre-cum.
I couldn’t resist it. I released him from my pumping hands, but instead of descending with my mouth, I shuffled down and slotted his erection in my cleavage. I squashed my tits around him, encompassing his hardness between my soft flesh. I fucked him with my tits. Rocking up and down, I squeezed my breasts together, trapping him. His downy balls collided with them as I flattened my body against him. The softness of his skin caressed my own. I reveled in the meeting of our flesh. The shivers of delight peaked in the apex of my thighs, the zenith of my sexual anatomy and right where my neglected clitoris buzzed expectantly but unfulfilled.
He shifted forward, leaning over me and I licked his belly. All those little hairs stood on end as I moistened them. I kissed the firm rows of abdominal muscles and the carved pectorals with their tiny nipples at each summit—a glorious, defined body. I undulated over him. He clenched the bed linen, clawing in continuing frustration, his eyes screwed tight. I’d more than snared him. I’d conquered my dangerous fox.
He pressed his lips together, fighting the need to cry out, and his cock jerked between my breasts. A gush of liquid heat spurted upward onto my chest, covering my breasts until it dripped down onto him. His erection diminished, flopped slightly, and I released it. I knelt back between his legs and his cum slid down in a rivulet of whiteness. I licked my hand—an unhurried dining out on him.
He watched through the narrow slits of his eyes while his chest rose and fell rapidly.
“Patience.” I ran my tongue around my smiling lips.
The speed of his movements surprised me. One minute, I was there between his legs, and the next, he had pitched me onto my back and pinned my wrists to each side of my head. He straddled my thighs and his hot breath mushroomed over my face.
He looked riled. Annoyed. Not what I had expected. I’d just given him a stupendous orgasm and he didn’t seem happy about it. I tensed, uncertain of what I’d unleashed.
“Stefan?” My voice wavered. The grip on my wrists grew painful. “Please, you’re hurting me.”
He let go instantly. “Sorry.” He leaned back, running his hands through his unruly mop. “Sorry. It’s just. I’ve let you down. I said I could control myself and within minutes, I’ve come all over you.”
“Over me. Wasn’t that the point? Over, not in.” I lifted myself up on my elbows, his sticky cum drying on my chest. I didn’t care about the mess.
“True. Except. I was going to fuck you.”
“I think my choice was somewhat better. Less risky. I’m not keen on this whole pregnancy thing. Not at twenty-one.”
He lowered his hands. I think he’d forgotten my age. “I’d hoped to make you come. Impress you.” He looked let down by my little game.
“I nearly did.” True, but I usually need some direct stimulation. My clitoris ached to be satisfied. “Look, I promise tomorrow I’ll be at the clinic and get myself sorted. No more condoms and worrying about this. It’s getting in the way, isn’t it?”
“I’m clean,” he said quickly. Almost too quickly. “I don’t… Like I said, you can trust me.” He stumbled uncharacteristically over his words.
I’d not thought about the other reason for condoms. I couldn’t tell whether his keenness to reassure me hid some unspoken history, or if it was simple embarrassment on his part. I shrugged it off. My own sexual drive kept me uninterested in the reasons why.
I guessed he understood. “Good. Great. Thanks. Now, Mausi, what shall I do with you?”
“Do with me?” I lay back down. “What have I done wrong?”
“You teased me. Forced me to come.”
“Forced you?” I recollected that he’d done that to me as recently as Sunday. Revenge felt somewhat sweet.
He skimmed his palms back up my arms. Taking my wrists again, he repositioned them next to my head, except this time his grip was looser, painless.
I made a pretense of writhing about. It excited him. His cock burst back into life. I wriggled my hips about under his strong thighs.
“Yes, forced me. I think a little punishment fuck is due.”
I went rigid. What the hell did that mean?
“Don’t worry,” he said quickly. “In my book, punishment doesn’t mean pain. It means compliance. No misbehaving. You’ll get what I give you and I take precedence this time, Mausi. If you do want to come, you’re going to be begging me.”
“Begging you,” I iterated. My stomach erupted with those ridiculous adrenaline-driven flutters.
“Yes.”
Oh, yes. Make me beg for it, Stefan.
He stretched out and covered me with his long body. From head to toe he lay on me. He dragged my arms above my head and wrapped my knuckles around the metal bed poles in the headboard.
“Hold these. You’re going to need them.” He winked at me.
My heart rate shot up. I held each cold iron pole tightly as instructed. His lips met mine and I eagerly let his tongue slip in and explore. Gentle kisses. Misleading, because below his cock rested on my mound. It hardened with each nip of his teeth on my lower lip and delicate caress of his hands.
I spread my legs, opening up that vulnerable space and inviting him in. I didn’t care about condoms. My resolve disintegrated. He ground his cock agai
nst my mound then rocked slowly up and down. With each swing, he dipped lower, brushed the hood of my clit up and knocked my tender nub with accuracy. The exquisite torture, well directed and exact, sent waves of pleasure coursing through every inch of my body.
His hands, mouth and cock all worked in a devastating combination. An electric pulse buzzed and tiny contractions spun out from my overstimulated clitoris.
He grazed his teeth against an earlobe. “Don’t come until I tell you.”
I arched my back, pushing up against his relentless erection. “I can’t hold it.” I panted, pained by his torment.
“You will. This is a punishment fuck, remember?” He spoke with a delicious severity. I wanted to obey him, but my body mutinied, driving me closer to the edge.
I shook my head and kept my eyes shut. I couldn’t possibly look at him after that statement.
Stefan shifted downward, trailing his unshaven chin across my heaving bosom, prickling me, and with a mammoth thrust, he rose and accelerated into me. I shrieked as he penetrated me. Now I would have to trust him—he’d rammed his cock deep to my cervix.
My orgasm tottered on the brink. I’d never held back before. Micah never cared whether I came or not. I now realized how unimportant it had been to him. If I failed Stefan, what would he do to me? Did it matter? “I can’t hold it,” I said breathlessly. “Please, let me.” How right he’d been. I begged pathetically. “Please, don’t stop.”
He withdrew and returned to teasing my poor clit with his cock. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him lower. He consumed a pert nipple whole with his mouth, using the sharp edge of his teeth to catch hold of it. I arrested myself, keeping motionless as he toyed with my nipple, raising the little pinnacle higher. Whimpering and crazed with lust, I opened my eyes and viewed the man who seemed intent on taking me to the edge of my sexual abilities.
Far from being uninterested in my predicament, he seemed fixated on watching me—observing my every reaction to his sensual fuckery.
My lower lip trembled. “I’m going to come.”
He opened his mouth wider and sucked on my breast, unhindered by my weakening resolve. Letting go, he stared straight at me. “There will be consequences. I haven’t said you can yet.”
Oh, heck. I wanted those consequences. If they were as thrilling as this, bring them on. I squirmed one last futile time. He moved faster and leaned his weight into the punishing pace. My legs gave out with the tension in my calves. Above my head, my forgotten hands were going numb clutching the poles.
He paused, dragged his cock down between my folds, and I held my breath, knowing what was coming next. He plunged to the hilt again, and I let loose a silent scream.
The orgasm ripped through me. I bucked and cramped as every excited nerve in my body responded in unison to my contracting pussy. My heartbeats pummeled my breastbone. On the orgasm rippled producing an endless Stefan-induced climax. Throughout, he moved about me, kissing my breasts and burying his head in my tangled hair. I scarcely sensed him in my state of undoing.
Eventually, the spasms halted. I relaxed my hands, unclenching them. Stefan sat astride my pelvis, fingering his erection. He hadn’t come—just as he’d promised—but I had. I chewed my lower lip. “Whoops.”
“My little Mausi failed her punishment fuck.”
The whites of his eyes glinted. He pressed his lips together, contemplating me as I writhed underneath him. The sight of his stern face didn’t scare me. Another rush of excitement grew from my exhausted belly. Where the hell did all this energy come from? I should be tucked up in bed, fast asleep.
“Stefan?” I fluttered my eyelashes.
“Don’t play me. You will fail.” He sounded like the comic book hero about to slay the baddie, his faint German accent embellishing the role.
I grinned, weakly. “I thought I did quite well…”
He locked his hands onto the horizontal pole of the headboard. I gulped as he planted his knees on either side of my arms and his resplendent erection touched my chin.
“You owe me a blow job.”
The soft growl sent shivers down my spine.
“Yes.” I’d offered it to him and teased him instead. Tit for tat. My tease, his tease. Would I repeat it, or do as he asked? I opened my mouth and swallowed him.
Such a huge cock to accommodate. His occupation required me to gape my jaw wide. The bulbous tip struck the roof of my mouth and slid down my throat. I gagged and, to my relief, he withdrew until my reflexes were untroubled.
I created a vacuum about him with the seal of my moistened lips and sucked, drawing in my cheeks. Being a clarinetist had advantages—a strong jaw and facial muscles. I found my rhythm and he shuddered. I coiled my arms around his raised thighs and gazed upward to his broad chest. He tossed his head backward. He seemed to be lost in his own world of bliss.
Behind him, I thrashed my legs, unhindered by weight or pressure. I loved the sense of being pinned under him and forced to suck him. I’d no doubt, if I became distressed, he would release me. His cock twitched in my mouth—the warning sign of an impending orgasm.
I panicked. What if I suffocated? Could I tolerate him filling my mouth quickly? My right palm slapped his thigh, and he glanced down.
“Keep sucking.” He glowered.
I opened my eyes wide. I’d seen him conduct, show his determination to better our performance, but this, this man above me with his striking muscles, mop of sweaty hair and gorgeous features, pushed me beyond my limits. I knew then that I did trust him. I relaxed. The panic left me. I let go of his legs, spread my arms and legs wide as in supplication.
My clitoris found a new life. She pulsated as I worked my tired jaw about him, feeling his velvety skin and the ribbed veins. I tasted his salty flavor and combined it with my copious saliva. He slid up and down, little dips of his cock bearable… Just.
He groaned. I held my breath. Waited for the spurt. Desperate to breathe, I opened my mouth and, to my surprise, he withdrew to my lips.
“Your tongue, liebling,” he said gently.
I stuck out my tongue and he placed the tip of his cock on it, allowing me to taste him. I watched mesmerized as he fisted and pumped the tip until his cream shot out. It trickled down my tongue and throat. I swallowed it all easily.
A lengthy orgasm and with each little spurt, he grunted.
The moment Stefan had finished, he sprang away from me and lay back down. He herded my hot body into his own, spooning me with his chest and bent legs. He pecked the back of my head with kisses. “Thank you—for trusting me.”
I lay exhausted. Past midnight, according to my bedside clock—I couldn’t face washing off the sweat and sticky mess of his semen on my chest. My eyelids drooped, and with a last burst of energy, I reached out and switched off the light.
Chapter Eight
I stirred in the middle of the night, staggered to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. Before slipping back into bed, I put on a T-shirt. Stefan remained crashed, one arm hanging off the bed and his other curled around his head. In the dim light, I admired his fantastic form and purred to myself. I touched his arm—cool. I carefully drew up the duvet and covered both of us. Snug and warm, I cuddled up to him. He muttered in his sleep. The last thing I remembered as I drifted off into my own erotic dreamland was his delicious smell.
* * * *
The alarm clock buzzed at seven o’clock. I let it go for a while before smacking the snooze button. Rotating onto my side, I discovered Stefan lying, staring at me with wide-open eyes. I jumped. He really was a lark.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked.
“You looked peaceful. Didn’t want to wake my sleeping beauty.” He leaned across to my side and kissed my forehead.
A wonderful glow emanated from where he had kissed me, and it spread around my body. I burrowed into his chest. “I wish I didn’t have to work,” I confessed. I’d quite happily stay in bed with him all day.
“You could take the day off,” he sugg
ested, looping an arm around me.
I cursed under my breath. If he carried on like this, I’d not make it, but I had the key to open up and responsibilities.
I shook off his arm. “Sorry. Have to go.” I turned, shuffling my feet to the edge of the bed, ready to stand.
Stefan hooked his arm around me, reached under my flimsy T-shirt, and scooped a breast into his palm. He pinned my back to his chest. “Shame. I think your technique could do with some exercise.”
My throat constricted. “My technique isn’t good enough for you? I seem to recollect you struggled to resist my mediocre technique.” I shoved my bottom backward into his groin. His penis moved. A pleasant sensation.
“You didn’t seem overly confident. We could definitely work on your confidence levels.” He wrapped a leg over mine.
I gyrated my butt, feeling him grow. “I’m not used to performing under such pressure.”
“It’s a matter of practice. The more you do it, the easier it becomes.” He pinched a nipple.
I groaned into my pillow. “Please, Stefan. Not now.”
“How about this weekend?” He squeezed harder.
I relented a little. “I’m not working.”
“That’s a promising start. I actually meant the whole weekend.”
I stopped grinding my bottom into him. “Friday?”
“To Sunday. Two days of intense personal tuition. I’m sure we can work on many skills.”
He moved his hand down my belly, fondling my skin as he journeyed to my loins. Instinctively, I flattened my stomach and held my breath, waiting for him to hit his target area.
I crushed my thighs together. “Like…what?” My voice betrayed me easily as it faltered.
He probed between my legs, driving them apart with his strong fingers. A multitude of goosebumps struck all over my feverish skin. He slid a digit down into my slit and held my sex in his sturdy hand. He pressed the heel of his palm down on my mound. A wave of tingles erupted from my nub, rippling outward.
“Your tonguing could be improved.”
“Tonguing,” I croaked.
“Mmm. So could your breath control. Deep breaths are essential. I’m sure we can come up with exercises to help—other techniques too.”
