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Page 3
At the last moment, before she could decide against it, Catherine ripped the condom off and tossed it aside. Dave or Pete or Brian stared at her wide-eyed, his mouth agape, but her furiously stroking fingers were too much and he bit his lip, spilling a warm stickiness into her hand as he came.
Even here he said nothing, only a touch on the wrist to tell her he was spent. She let him go, loving how soft his cock was as it plopped against his belly.
For a long moment the two sat still, breathing slowly, then moved together like dancers at the end of a particularly arduous ballet. At the sink they washed and dressed, her underwear and the condom buried at the bottom of the trash. By the end they could have been any other world travelers, their only commonality having shared the same plane.
As she poked her head out the door, Catherine quickly scanned the crowd and then walked away without looking back.
Halfway down the promenade she stopped, buying the biggest bottle of water she could find. But in between gulps he called to her and she turned, fearing he’d ruin everything. That he’d ask for her name, or her number, or when he could fuck her again.
Instead he only grinned and held out a slip of paper. Without thinking, she took it and he vanished, swallowed up by the ever-changing crowd.
The paper was a napkin from the donut place across the way. On it was a note and a phone number, written in a looping kind of scrawl.
Call me if you want, it read, and Catherine couldn’t help but smile.
Outside the airport her car had been baking in the warm, late morning light. Behind the wheel, she fiddled with her keys then left them dangling in the ignition. She dug out the napkin again and traced it with a finger.
If I want.
Families slowly shuffled by as Catherine laid the note on the seat beside her. Any one of them could’ve chanced by, seen her spreading her legs, seen the way she relished the warm ache between her thighs. Catherine whimpered at how exposed she was and though her fingers were not as deep, nor as thick as her stranger’s cock, they were enough and soon nothing could hold her back.
Minutes later, she somehow found the strength to putter home, and though guilt at lying to her mother fought to return, it was quickly crushed. Between a full-time job and two kids, the dating game promised far too many pitfalls to be worth her time. For now, all she wanted, all she needed, was someone like Dave or Pete or Brian.
Weaving her way in and out of traffic, she thought of calling him some time. Of proposing another illicit rendezvous, or maybe just . . . Slowly, Catherine grinned and rubbed her fingers together, imagining she could still feel that warm stickiness again.
Maybe she’d post the ad again. Spin the wheel just to see what it brought.
At the thought of it, each car she passed became a different stranger, another patient yet anxious man, silent but for what she desired. Without thinking, Catherine’s foot pressed down hard on the gas because what waited for her at home no longer mattered. What mattered was her longing and that ache and the way all her potential strangers looked at her in her head as she beckoned each of them forth with a slow, sweet smile.
TRACING THE EDGE
Louise Kane
Alex cracked open an eye, blearily glaring at the sunlight weaseling its way into her bedroom through the slats in the window shades. It couldn’t have been later than nine—and on a Saturday, no less. Not that it mattered. When no one was supposed to leave their house, a weekend didn’t exactly hold the same weight.
Groaning, Alex pulled a pillow over her face as her right hand drifted beneath the covers to find her clit. She rubbed lazy circles over her skin as her mind drifted elsewhere. To Bryce. With a quick grin, Alex grabbed her phone. It’d be a waste not to use the early-morning sunlight for something. She snapped a picture of her tits, mouth half-open in invitation, and sent it to Bryce with the caption: Hope work is fun.
Her phone buzzed a few minutes later, and it was Bryce’s name on the lock screen. Alex bit her lip as want bloomed in her stomach. She knew Bryce’s work schedule well enough to know when to text—and lucky for her, she’d woken up in time to get a reply before Bryce headed into her next virtual appointment.
Someone’s being naughty this morning.
A whimper escaped Alex’s lips as she pushed her hips into the mattress, fingers snaking back toward her clit. She was crafting her response when three dots appeared on her screen. Alex quickly deleted the half-written message. There were few things she loved more than the anticipation of finding out what was going through a mind as dirty as hers.
Do you want to play a game today, pretty girl?
“Fuck,” breathed Alex, hips moving in a tight circle. Her fingers flew across the screen.
Yes, please.
Bryce’s next text took longer, three dots mocking how eager Alex was to know the game Bryce had thought up for them. Alex’s mind ran down its own paths as she waited, but she tried to clear it; she didn’t want to spoil the surprise, and she didn’t want to be disappointed if she came up with something better.
I want you to bring yourself to the edge of coming every hour, on the hour. Once you’ve stopped, send me a picture of that beautifully frustrated face and a description of what you were thinking about to get yourself there. Do a good job, and I might let you come today. Understood?
Alex bit back a mewl, stomach clenching at the command. She should’ve known better than to think she could come up with something better than Bryce. Alex nodded as she replied.
Yes, sir.
Good girl. 30 minutes.
Her eyes snagged on the time display at the top of her phone screen: 8:30 on the dot. Alex pouted. Now that it was a game, she didn’t want to wait to play—so she distracted herself with setting an alarm for every hour, on the hour.
Her finger hovered over the screen as she struggled to decide how many alarms to set. Bryce hadn’t given a timeline, and Alex wasn’t sure if it was better to over-or underestimate how long they’d play. With a sudden burst of decisiveness, she turned on an alarm for noon, and closed out of the app. Bryce couldn’t expect Alex to last longer than that. She might’ve liked to play, but she wasn’t cruel.
That done, Alex’s attention turned to more immediate needs—like the insistent growl low in her belly reminding her to eat something before starting today’s tasks in earnest. Her lips curled into a smile as she swung her bare legs out of bed.
Maybe today wasn’t going to be boring after all.
9 a.m.
Alex slid under the covers and switched on her vibrator just as the digital clock on her phone flipped to 9:00 a.m. Perfect. She sighed as the gentle rumble spread over her clit, hips moving in a smooth, easy rotation. Sucking an index finger, Alex’s mind wandered as her skin grew sensitive, the single point of contact reaching down her thighs and up her stomach until it covered her entire body in want.
The tension built until she had to pull away the vibrator, giving herself a chance to settle down before pushing further. Alex knew how far past the initial promise of release her edge existed, and it’d be cheating to pretend otherwise—or to act like she didn’t play a version of this game every time she got herself off.
Alex took her finger out of her mouth and traced a line over the landscape of her body to the area just above her cunt, kneading the flesh until it felt like she’d come from that alone. With a shiver, she turned off her vibrator and let out a long breath.
She grabbed her phone and took a picture, smirk firmly in place as the leftover tension of a not-quite-orgasm ebbed from her limbs. Any game worth playing was a game worth winning, after all—and Alex planned to win this one.
I thought about you fucking me. Alex sent the message along with the picture and settled back against her headboard to wait for a response. This was her favorite part of their play—being told she’d done well, Bryce’s praise driving Alex to please Bryce further.
Oh, I think you’ll have to do better than that if you want to play this particular game.
We were on the bed. You’d spanked me and then you were fucking me from behind with your fingers, your other hand shoving my face into the mattress.
That’s my good girl. See you in an hour.
Alex’s toes clenched at the praise—and the purr she could almost hear through Bryce’s text. Blowing out a harsh breath, Alex forced herself to get out of bed. She’d read, wait out the dull throb Bryce’s words had reignited, and pretend like she wouldn’t regret agreeing to this game before the day was done.
Alex checked her phone as she ran up the front steps to her apartment building:
9:58 a.m.
She swore her ghost was going to haunt the jerk at the grocery store who went through the self-checkout line with fifty items. Alex let herself into the building’s front door and sprinted up the stairs, sticking her key into the lock of her apartment before she’d come to a complete stop.
She checked her phone again: 9:59. Shit. She didn’t bother with her shirt, just grabbed her vibrator and shimmied out of her pants as fast as she could before hopping onto the couch. Alex clocked the time as the vibrator made contact with her clit and smiled. Ten, exactly. She’d made it.
The tension in her thighs and stomach grew quickly, convinced she’d orgasm this time and ready to be done with it. Alex wouldn’t—couldn’t—of course, so she breathed into the steady rhythm of reaching the edge, stepping back, and pushing further. She grabbed her hair as the pressure mounted in her core, jerking her head to the side the way Bryce did when she was there. The pain at Alex’s scalp and the pleasure in her cunt warred with each other for dominance until they became greater than the sum of their parts and all she could do was moan.
As her chest tightened, legs tightened, and ass tightened, Alex dropped her vibrator onto the couch. Breathing through her nose, she willed the muscles in her stomach to relax and let the orgasm ebb away without completion. Her body pulsed with need, but all she could give it was the movement of her hips— broad circles meant to soothe rather than enflame.
Alex took out her phone, not missing how far away the smirk from an hour ago felt. She bit her lip, putting as much pain and want into the picture as she dared, and snapped the shutter. Maybe if she looked pathetic enough, Bryce would let her come sooner. Alex could hope, at least. She pressed send, and Bryce’s response was immediate.
Where’s my description?
“Shit,” said Alex, brain scrambling to catch up and put words to what she’d thought about. A pit of guilt opened at the bottom of her stomach at the unintended disobedience.
I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to forget. I was on my hands and knees, sucking your cock while someone else fucked me from behind. I loved watching you watch me get fucked, the way you watched me suck you off. I almost came from how hot it made me.
A minute of worry burrowing into her limbs and then—
Good girl. I know you wouldn’t disobey on purpose. See you at 11.
11:04 a.m.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Alex checked the time on her phone in disbelief. She must’ve missed setting the alarm. Of course she’d magically make it back in time after the grocery-store fiasco only to completely screw up when all she was doing was watching Netflix.
Alex bit her tongue, trying to decide what to do as guilt churned in her stomach. It had to be better to complete her task before confessing her screw-up. She’d masturbate now, ask for forgiveness later, and hope her punishment wouldn’t be too severe.
She jumped into bed, pushing away the guilt nibbling at her edges as she sank into how good it felt to slide her fingers along her clit and dip them into her cunt. Alex pressed harder, dragging pleasure to the surface as she closed her eyes in search of fantasy. Her other hand drifted to her tits, running a finger over each nipple until the sensation grew past the point of comfort. Then she rubbed them some more.
Alex imagined herself sitting across from her boss. They were in her boss’s office, at her desk, but Alex was the one in control—able to make her boss do whatever Alex wanted. Alex made her boss get undressed until all she had on were heels, and then Alex made her crawl, push up Alex’s skirt, and lick her until Alex came. When Alex was done, she had her boss call in another coworker and Alex watched her suck his cock. She had her boss do it again and again and ag—
“Fuck.” Alex clutched at the sheets like a lifeline, waiting for the pulsing in her cunt to subside. She hadn’t been paying enough attention—she’d almost come. After her late start, that would’ve been the cherry on top.
Her stomach clenched at the reminder of what she had to do, and the ache in her pelvis instantly quelled. She sent Bryce a picture and a description and almost stopped there. After all, Bryce hadn’t asked what Alex was doing or why she hadn’t texted. Bryce didn’t know what Alex had done. No, she couldn’t shake the need to confess—to ask forgiveness. With stiff fingers, Alex sent one more message.
I cheated.
What do you mean, pretty girl?
Alex pouted. She hated having to tell Bryce she messed up. She should’ve lied—but even if Bryce wouldn’t have known Alex had disobeyed, Alex would’ve. And no matter the game, Alex wanted to be good. Especially when she was the only one keeping herself accountable.
I started late, sir. I’m sorry. I lost track of time, and—I’m sorry.
Her cheeks heated with the admission of wrongdoing. She knew Bryce wouldn’t actually be mad, but logic didn’t stop Alex’s brain and body from tensing in anticipation. She hated being bad—hated it worse when she hadn’t meant to be. Alex worried her bottom lip, seconds feeling like hours before three dots popped onto the screen.
Well then. You’re such a good girl for telling me, but that doesn’t mean this can go unpunished, does it?
Alex shook her head, mouth twisted to the side even though Bryce couldn’t see.
No, sir.
The next time you touch yourself, I want you to wear the nipple clamps. Put them on five minutes before you start. Don’t take them off until after you’ve sent me your picture and description.
Alex let out a slow breath, a trickle of fear crawling up her spine. The clamps hurt. A lot. But Bryce was right—Alex deserved it. It could’ve been worse.
Noon
“Fuck,” said Alex, breathing through her nose and out through her mouth as she acclimated to the sharpness of the clamps. She hadn’t worn them in weeks, and she’d forgotten how painful they were. It was probably her mind protecting itself from the memory because holy crap, why had Alex bought these?
Oh yeah—she sighed as the steady dose of pain and endorphins pumping through her system made her lightheaded. That was why.
Alex eased into bed, careful not to jostle the clamps as she laid down and picked through her brain for a new fantasy to use. Or, perhaps, something old. She grinned as images played across the inside of her head. It was her favorite fantasy—the one she came to again and again as fingers rubbed tight circles over her clit.
Bryce sat apart from Alex, patted the inside of her thigh, said, “Come.”
It was obvious Alex wasn’t meant to walk across the room, so she dropped to all fours and crawled on hands and knees. She came to a stop between Bryce’s jean-clad legs, sat back on her heels, and rested her cheek against Bryce’s thigh. She breathed the smell of Bryce deep into her lungs.
Bryce was fully clothed against Alex’s nakedness until Bryce unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, opened them enough to pull out her cock. Even then, she made Alex wait. Only when Bryce deemed Alex desperate—and patient—enough, was Alex allowed to suck her cock.
Alex played it on a loop: Her submission and Bryce’s control, over and over again, until she came to the edge quicker than she’d thought possible. The pain of the clamps was insistent, but with her vibrator on her clit, it was more pleasure
than pain. Or rather, pleasure accentuated and brought to a finer point by the pain lining its presence.
She hadn’t noticed how loudly she was moaning until she forced her hand away from herself. Fuck. The dull thrum of continually stopping before she came was becoming as painful as the clamps themselves—a burning sensation that promised to go away if Alex let herself finish. She bit her lip, focusing on the pain instead. She’d made it this far; she wasn’t about to mess up now.
Alex took a deep breath and snapped a picture, putting her frustration into her pouting mouth. It was the only part of her face Bryce would see because Alex’s tits and the nipple clamps were front and center. Bryce liked seeing Alex’s pain—liked when Alex hurt herself when Bryce wasn’t there to leave the bruises herself.
Alex hit send and typed out the description to go along with it, the pain in her nipples growing sharper now that she wasn’t touching herself.
It took everything in her not to send another message, begging Bryce to let her come. What if Bryce decided that meant Alex wasn’t allowed to come at all? She groaned as the possibility of such severe denial flooded her. It was tricky, wanting the game to last longer even while begging for it to end. To distract herself from asking for release, Alex removed one clamp and then the other, gasping at the sharp pain that shot through her.
“Fuck,” whispered Alex, drawn out under her breath. The telltale vibration of her phone came a moment later and she snatched it up. Breathing shallowly through her nose, Alex waited for the wave of discomfort to pass as she read the message.
You’ve been so good. When you bring yourself to the edge next time, I want you to fall over it. Record yourself.
Her frustrated pout turned into a grin. Thank God. Gratitude flooded through her in that way it could only when Bryce had withheld what Alex wanted past the point she thought she was capable of enduring. The next hour couldn’t come soon enough.
1:00 p.m.
She thought it’d be fast, but now that she was allowed to come, Alex wanted it to last. Wanted to use more than fingers and vibrator. Wanted to feel everything.