“Mmmm,” He sighed, cradling her gently as their bodies swayed, reminding him again that this weekend seemed like some sort of initiation.
“I like it this way,” she murmured, “That no one knows what we are going to do when we get back to the room. Well, maybe the assumption is that every couple is going to make love while they’re here. But for us, it’s different. If we come out here later your ass might be bright red from a whipping under your pants, or your balls might be tied up with string, so you feel my touch on you whenever you move or whenever you reach into a pocket and stimulate that naughty cock of yours.”
“Ooooh,” he swallowed hard, letting her breathy words wash over him, wondering for a moment how she’d managed to see so clearly that his body would respond when she talked dirty like that.
Her face nuzzled against his chest, and he wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or to him. “I love that no one knows all the nasty things I am going to do with you. Where I am going to wiggle my fingers, and how your cock is going to throb when I guide your tongue between my legs.”
“Oh, God, Eliza. Yes please!” He stepped back as the song ended but held onto her hand. “Another song? Or back to the room?”
It was an easy choice, heading back through the lobby to the elevators. The place seemed almost deserted, which suited Eliza fine. The decor was modern and the inn seemed well kept. Each fantasy suite had a different theme and finding the Roman Villa available had meshed perfectly with her plans. Their room came complete with the usual hotel bar, but she’d arranged ahead of time to have a bottle of white wine chilling and some chocolate covered strawberries delivered. She pulled Frank to a halt outside the door as she slid the key card into the lock.
“Remember, sexy. Once we walk in this door you are mine, bound to serve the entire weekend. Is this your wish?”
Frank lifted her knuckles to his lips and bowed slightly. “Oh, it is most definitely my wish.” He followed her into the chamber and got his first good look at the place. The over-sized bed he had seen before as well as the sitting area with the fireplace, which would be lovely in winter, but useless in June. Thick marble columns separated the sleeping area from the living space, and far to the left was a bar set up in front of a sliding glass door to the balcony.
Eliza gave his hand one last squeeze and pointed to the luggage in the entryway. “See to my baggage as well as your own. There should be luggage racks in the closet. Get out of those clothes and get into uniform. I will be in shortly to arrange my own clothing.” She slapped his ass as he gathered up the suitcases and headed for the sleeping area.
“I’m sorry, Miss Eliza, I am not clear on my uniform. There was no mention of it in the invitation. I did bring my white towel, if that would suffice.” There was a smile on his face, and a spring in his step as he moved away. His voice was still smooth as velvet moving over her skin. She couldn’t wait to see him in that towel again, or maybe in the tiny Roman toga she’d bought for him at Party City. “White towel it is, Rusty,” she called after him.
She drifted to the bar and poured herself a glass of Chardonnay before giving in to her curiosity about what her sex toy was up to in the bedroom. Clothes were hung up in the closet, toiletries arranged on the counter in the en suite, and Frank was setting the Adult emporium toy bag on the bedside table next to the nylon pouch containing her own meager toys, mainly lube and a small vibrator.
Eliza smiled to see him barefoot and wearing nothing but the tiny white towel.
“I think you’re getting used to that outfit. It suits you.”
Frank smiled even as he looked self consciously down at himself. “I am kind of curious about the toga you mentioned. It might cover a little more, and be less precarious.”
“I happen to like precarious. I might get lucky and see something magical.” She ignored his snort and zipped open the side pocket on her case. “Here, you can try this on. Oh! And I got footwear.” She tossed him a scrap of white fabric and a pair of yellow flip flops, trying not to laugh at the dumbfounded expression on his face. “Go ahead, try them on. I promise I won’t peek,” she teased.
After a couple of hard shakes, Frank pulled the costume over his head. It was short, very short, barely long enough to cover his ass cheeks in the back or provide modesty in the front, but he could tell Eliza admired it. He stepped into the sandals and settled the knotted fabric on his shoulder. “How do I look?” he queried.
Eliza let out a low wolf whistle and gestured for him to do a slow turn. “I like the way it shows off your best assets, but honestly, it would look so much better if you were kneeling.”
He dropped instantly, draping the material over his thighs and smoothing it into place. He rested his hands in his lap and looked up. “I hope this meets your approval, ma’am.”
Eliza sat down on the edge of the bed and kicked off her shoes. She curled and flexed her toes, extending her foot out towards him. “Much better, and at a good height now to do a little work seeing to my comfort. My arches are killing me. Surely a pampered house slave would eagerly see to his Domina’s every need.” His cock hardened at the words house slave and domina. He liked the image. Exactly as he had pictured himself doing earlier, he liked to be kneeling, wanted to make her feel good, so he turned towards her and took her foot in his hand, running his hand over the arch. “Oh, yes, that feels so good.”
His hands moved tentatively at first, but then with growing confidence, caressing, smoothing the tension away. Every time he found a particularly tense muscle he worked it with knuckles and thumbs until she sighed in pleasure. Those sighs reminded him of the times he had nuzzled between her thighs. His eyes flicked up to hers, hoping she might recognize the same sounds.
Instead, she leaned back on her elbows and extended the other foot. Her eyelids drifted shut as he kneaded the sore spot under the ball of her foot. “Don’t worry, Rusty. You will have all weekend to please me with that tongue of yours. But first, finish with my toes.”
Chapter 16
The world had gotten very small, shrinking down to the space around the two of them. Isolated in the cocoon in the cool Italian-style hotel room with only the hum of the air conditioner in the quiet of the remote romantic getaway, Frank felt as if no one else existed. It wasn’t that Frank seriously wanted his world to be reduced to just two people, it just felt right to have her be at the center of his. These moments when she took charge and commanded his mind and his tongue and his cock felt so right. All she had to do was pat the bed beside her and say, “Time to hop up here, Rusty, on all fours please,” and his dick would throb and his heart nearly beat out of his chest.
He climbed up eagerly, feeling the warmth of her hands as she stroked his balls and his thighs. Eliza always knew just how she wanted him, ass up, head down, knees spread. She peeled off her wrap dress and climbed up onto the bed beside him. Her skilled hands teased and dribbled lubricant down his crack and gently massaged it in, working her fingers in slowly. He thought back to the first time she’d done that; when she’d laughed and probed and pushed her fingers deep into his hole. That was the first time she’d called him Rusty.
Whatever rustiness had been on his brain was long since greased and polished away. His sex drive worked like a well-oiled machine, ready for whatever came next. His mind drifted for a moment, overtaken by the image of an auto shop and Eliza dressed in the formless gray coveralls of a mechanic. She would point to him and then to a pair of cuffs dangling from the auto lift. “Just enough time left in the day to get that rusty hatchback up on the lift for a lube job,” she’d proclaim.
“Pay attention, slacker!” Eliza slapped his ass sharply. “Take a deep breath, sexy, and relax.”
Eliza knelt behind him on the bed, resting hands on his hips, making him wonder for a brief second what it would feel like to have her don a strap on and actually fuck him. The image stayed with him as she pressed one of the latex plugs into him. It felt bigger than the last time, but he was ready, well lubed and relaxed.
With a practiced touch, she eased it in, wringing soft moans and gasps from him. Sometimes pulling back before working it in farther, until it was seated all the way in him, and her hips were pressing up against his hindquarters.
“What do you think of that, Rusty?”
“I love it,” he sighed. “I wish it was on a harness and you were going to fuck me with it.”
In response, Eliza spread her knees, the subtle pressure causing his legs to spread wider on the bed. Her arms curled around him and she took hold of his rigid cock where it dangled below him. It was lovely, the way his hips moved, thrusting his cock deeper into her fist. “Glad to know you feel that way! We can add that as a goal for your training. Give you something to work up to.
“Oh, yes, please!” he moaned softly. Suddenly her hand was in his hair, pulling back roughly so he could see her behind him, leaning over him.
“That’s ‘Yes, Mistress’, or ‘Yes, Domina’ slut.”
“Yes, Domina,” he ground out, grateful when she relaxed her grip. He kept his head down, waiting obediently as she repositioned herself, lifting the white fabric of his toga and slapping his ass hard. It barely hurt, but it made his cock start throbbing again.
She spanked him again, and again, wincing and shaking her hand. “All I am doing is hurting my palm,” she declared. “I think the flogger would be better, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes, Domina!” He couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice, and soon she had it in her hand, swishing through the air to shake out the strands.
She started without warning, not caring if he counted, just enjoying every gasp and moan. After a few swats, she paused and found his cock and heavy balls hanging low under him, and giving them a slow caress and a quick yank. Then it was back to business, warming up his sexy backside. Before long his butt cheeks were turning a rosy shade of pink. Eliza stopped to run her hands over his skin, feeling the warmth. There were also a few stripes across it, little welts she could feel as she skimmed her palm over him.
“Look how much your cock likes a rough spanking, Rusty.” She didn’t have to touch it to know, it was fully engorged and shiny with precum on the head.
“I know,” he moaned.
She gave him another heavy swat. “Who do you serve, slave boy?” He hesitated before answering, so she smacked him again.
“Ow! Miss Eliza, I serve Miss Eliza!” She lay into him again with the flogger one more time for reinforcement.
“Sounds like you had to think about that for a minute there.”
“No, no,” he groaned. “Only to decide between Miss Eliza or Mistress Eliza.”
She swatted him playfully. “I see. You don’t like addressing me as Mistress?” She took him by the hand and pulled him to the edge of the bed, urging him off of it and onto the floor. He knelt there, looking up at her as she arranged a pillow and lay down on her back, knees dangling off the bed right in front of him.
“That might be a problem because your mistress wants to feel your tongue giving her pleasure right about now.”
In a flash, he lifted her calves and positioned them over his shoulders, rising up on his knees to press his face deeper between her thighs. He could smell her arousal, and it drew him in. She tensed the muscles to keep him at a distance. “If you’d like to taste me and please me, you need to say, “Please, Domina.”
“Please, Domina” No hesitation this time, and she relaxed and lay back. He took hold of her hips and pulled her closer to the edge of the bed, and nuzzled his lips between her soft folds. He started slow, coaxing with little flicks of his tongue, centering his attention on her clit, even though the heady aroma of her arousal drew him to lick up into her core.
The first time his tongue strayed she let him lick his fill, and then drew his tongue back up to her most sensitive peak. “Stay on target,” she urged. Her out of practice lover was learning quickly, and she took a steadying breath. “Can’t you feel it, when you get it right? Can’t you feel the tension in my thighs, and can’t you feel my clitoris swelling?”
“Ummmhmmm,” he moaned, not lifting his tongue from its duties. He followed his instinct, licking, angling his tongue over her, knowing he was getting her close to the edge. He felt triumphant when she arched her back and tensed, holding her breath while the pleasure overtook her. His arms flexed around her thighs, cradling her close as she came apart under his mouth. He loved the smell and taste of her passion, and tenderly lapped her one last time before lifting his head and catching her eyes.
“I believe I am learning how to please my mistress,” he joked. Her legs slid off his shoulders and she leaned down to kiss him full on the lips before she rose to her feet. He tasted and smelled of her, and she liked it.
“I believe you are,” she smiled. “And pussy face looks good on you,” she commented as she tugged him to his feet. He opened his mouth to argue, and then laughed instead.
“I’m not even going to let you ruffle my feathers with that one. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She turned him and faced him in the direction of the bar. “I left my drink in there somewhere. Find and refresh my drink. I’ll be in in a moment.” Eliza patted his tight buns as he left, admiring them as he walked away. It was amazing to think how lucky she’d gotten. She had first been drawn to his voice and his cologne, and then the seductive way he had caressed her shoulders and helped her into her coat. Had it been instinct? Luck? Whatever it was, if she had noticed his backside first, she would have been sold immediately.
After a quick trip to the bathroom to tame her wild hair, Eliza slipped back into her dress and went in search of her wine, which was thrust into her hand as soon as she was settled on the couch. In her other hand, she picked up the remote.
“Shall we see what’s on television?” she asked, surprised to see Frank standing in front of her. He was still wearing the ultra-short toga that didn’t really cover his hard on. A little confused, he looked from her to the floor to the seat on the couch next to her. As an afterthought, he dropped to his knees and scooted close to her spot.
“Would it be all right for me to pour myself a glass of that Chardonnay?” he asked.
“Slaves don’t socialize and sit around drinking wine,” she scoffed, but the look of disappointment on his face made her remember how new he was to role-playing a scene, and he was completely immersed.
“Come here, sexy,” she breathed. Eliza lifted her glass, offering him a sip. He only took a taste, but the next time she offered it he took more, deciding it was sweet and sexy, the way she shared with him.
She reclined against the arm of the sofa, one foot curled up under her and the other foot dangling. By subtly shifting her weight her painted toes found his thigh and caressed up under the hem of his toga. She laughed as she nudged his engorged cock this way and that. One minute it was tame, hidden by the white fabric, and the next it poking forward, rising up and lifting the hem.
“Oh my, that cock has been teased a lot tonight,” Eliza commented. “It has been so well behaved, but it has to learn never to expect an orgasm.” She took a long sip of wine but didn’t offer him any afterward, savoring the control. She met his eyes again. “What?” she asked. “Does my new slave have a complaint?”
Frank once again tried not to let his disappointment show. It was a bit of an emotional roller coaster, keeping track of Eliza’s moods and discerning what to say. He hesitated and gathered his thoughts, finally replying, “No, Domina.” He like the sound of the word ‘Domina’, given the whole scene she had set up for him. “As you said before, I am here to serve.”
He sat back on his heels and brushed the toga down to cover his cock.
To Eliza’s eyes he looked gorgeous, kneeling proudly, his chest thrust out. His broad shoulders were bisected by the triangle of white fabric. No one would ever have guessed that beneath the habitual coat and tie of a professor he was hiding a runner’s body, lithe and sleek. Eliza took her time looking him over. He did look fine, and under her
scrutiny he clasped his hands together behind his back, the move accentuating muscular curves of his arms. Sneaky man, Eliza thought, almost like he was posing in a body-building contest.
“I do believe you’re trying to seduce me, Mr. Sutherland,” she commented. It was working, too. The gentle flush of his cheeks, the heat in his gaze made her want to pull him to the bedroom for some sweaty lovemaking, but not tonight. She had other plans for tonight, other lessons to teach.
She let her toes do the speaking for her and let them find their way to the dark recesses under his skirt. “Oh!” he panted and looked down. Her toes had found him, eager and swollen, and slightly sticky. She rubbed her instep along the underside of his cock, brushing over the head and then back beneath, feeling his heavy member try to follow along as her touch retreated.
“I think my slave boy likes that,” she cooed. She pointed her toes and let her foot drift back down to him. His arms were tense, muscles bunching as he clasped them harder behind his back.
“That’s right, stay like that, love. Knees apart.” He was so easy to read, so eager to please. Her instep was soon coated with slippery juices, his cock twitching every time her toes took a stroll along his tightly scrunched up ball sack. His lips parted in a low moan, and his hips thrust forward to increase the pressure.
“Oh, my, you seem to have spilled something on my foot!” Suddenly it was up in the air in front of him, inches in front of his slightly befuddled face. “What is that, slave?”
His eyes flicked down, then back up to meet hers. “It’s precum, Domina. My cock is so ready for you, sweet lady.” Her foot moved closer, hovering in front of his lips.
“Take it in your hands, and hold it steady. Use that tongue of yours to clean up your mess!” His hands cupped her heel gently and his eyes locked on hers as he lifted her foot, gently massaging the arch as his tongue caressed along the top, lapping from toes to instep, inhaling the heady musk and then experiencing the taste for the first time.
Rusty Lovers Page 17
