Authors: M.Q. Barber
His hand left her skin. The stillness of his legs made the trembling of hers more obvious.
“Tell me what you’re feeling, Alice.”
“Fear. Anticipation. Desire.”
His hand came down before she’d finished, and her words became a hiss of air. He rubbed a circle over the chosen cheek, the right side, afterward.
“And now?”
“A fading sting. Warmth.”
His hand lifted. Her body tensed, waiting.
“You have beautiful lines, Alice. So many slopes and curves where shadows cling. Your body a map of rolling hills. The sort of places that invite curiosity and exploration, where adventurers are sure to find excitement and riches.”
His voice relaxed her, rising and falling in a gentle wave akin to the hills he–
“Ahh.”
She panted as the sting registered, the fall of his hand on her left again followed by the soothing rubbing of his palm on her skin.
“Good girl.” His hand moved away, and she listened, determined not to be caught off guard.
The fall was immediate. Forceful, enough to push her into his left thigh and make her groan at the pressure. A finger between her legs swiftly followed, opening her lips and sinking inside. Her hips rocked a second time.
“Quickly, my girl, tell me what you feel.”
“Hot,” she mumbled. His finger, thrusting, occupied her mind as much as it did her pussy. “Tingling. Wanting.”
Henry’s hand withdrew.
“As am I, Alice, with you draped so sweetly across my lap. Your heat warms me, as well. The delights”–a sucking sound as he surely tasted her from his finger–”that flow so freely from you harden my cock until I ache to take you.”
His hand came down in a rolling smack that lifted her cheek and sent her forward. He rubbed away the sting, transforming it into a pleasurable burn. His fingers stroked her outer lips without entering. She whimpered.
“You want more, Alice?”
“Yes, Henry.”
“More spanking, or only more touching?” His voice gave no hint of whether her answer would change the outcome.
She responded without stopping to think beyond the clenching emptiness between her legs, an ache that left her entire body hollow and needy. “Both. I need both, please.”
He spanked her twice in rapid succession and plunged a finger inside her before the sting had begun to fade. She cried out, an eager affirmation if not a recognizable word, and her hips surged against his thigh.
“Do you want to come for me, Alice? Caught here, pinned between my legs, helpless? Is that what you want?”
“Yes. Yes, Henry, please, I want it.”
Two more times his hand come down. His finger, no, thicker now, two fingers, thrust. Hot and burning, her body pulsed from its center outward, the tension building in her.
“And I want it for you, dearest, to hear the joy in your cries, to breathe in the heavy scent of your need. To see the flush on your skin, to feel the heat of you around me, to taste…” She moaned with the loss when he pulled his fingers out, her voice mingling with his appreciative
mmm
and the sound of suction.
“Do you doubt my words, Alice? My desire?” He thrust his hips, rocking her body in his lap, and she hungered for his cock inside her, where it belonged.
“No,” she gasped. “No, Henry.”
A series of hard spanks, alternating sides. She lost count as the burning spread and her need grew.
“Good girl,” he crooned to her, his fingers thrusting, her hips rocking faster against his thigh.
Her hips rocked even when his fingers left her, soft wool rubbing against swollen lips, pressure building against her clit. Two spanks, hard, quick, Henry’s hand lifting her ass and pushing it upward. The burn was still forming as his fingers penetrated her again, solid and thick. The start of her orgasm, her body clamping around him, denied him the chance to pull back while she cried out and shook, her fingers digging into the carpet.
“That’s it, my beautiful Alice, you’re safe in my hands.” His gentle singsong whispered above the white noise in her ears. Her head felt heavy, her legs light.
She lost all sense of balance when his fingers pulled free and the weight on her back shifted to her chest. A swift rise brought her to a seated position. An arm held her close to Henry’s body, his musky leather-and-citrus scent a familiar reminder of comfort despite her disorientation, and alongside it the tantalizing scent of her own arousal. A suction-pop sounded to her left.
“Yes. Taste.” A command.
Henry’s mouth covered hers. She opened to him, tasting herself on his tongue. He controlled the kiss, the pressure, the speed, his hand firm on the nape of her neck, cradling her head. His other arm tightened around her back. The pressure of his leg against the front of hers moved away, replaced by a light tickling against her stomach and–
oh God yes.
She moaned, the wavering sound resonating as Henry released her mouth.
Jay. Henry’s command must’ve been for them both. That had to be Jay’s tongue pressed flat to her sex. His hair brushed her stomach. The hand at her neck dropped away, and then it, too, touched her stomach. Knuckles, she thought. Henry stroking Jay’s hair while Jay bathed her with his tongue.
The licking stopped. Henry’s hand and Jay’s head, both gone. She trembled, unable to see what was happening, what was coming next. Reveled in the burn of her ass resting on Henry’s thigh.
“Satisfied, my dears?” Henry’s voice, a mixture of tenderness and teasing.
No lying
, she reminded herself.
“No,” she said, her voice overlapping with Jay’s surprised, “yes.”
Henry chuckled. “Just the answers I was hoping to hear. Tell me, Alice, you’re certain you wish to go on?”
“Yes, Henry.” He’d promised to fuck her, and he wouldn’t lie.
“Truly? You’re halfway there. Fifteen. There’s no shame in stopping if you can’t go on.”
“No. Please, Henry.”
“Hmm. You’re the birthday girl, my dear. If you say you want another fifteen…”
Was that the game? To make her beg for it? With anyone else, the idea would infuriate her. With Henry, her head nodded before she’d completed the thought. “Yes, I want it. You promised thirty. I want them all.”
“Do you hear our girl, Jay? Such a demanding little thing, isn’t she? So adamant she wants this. Does she deserve to receive what she wants, my boy? When she wants it enough to ask for it?”
Her panting reverberated in the silence. She was ready to bend
herself
over Henry’s thigh, blindfolded or not. Faith in him was all that held her back.
“Yes, Henry.” Jay’s voice, steady and clear. “She wants it because it makes her happy. And you want to make her happy.”
Henry wanted to satisfy her. Happiness and satisfaction might overlap, but they weren’t the same. Still. For a sex partner, wanting to satisfy marked the pinnacle of her experience, even if he meant to satisfy his own ego as well.
Her body tipped forward into a waiting hand as Henry repositioned her across his lap.
“You’re correct, Alice.” The weight of an arm across her back. The brush of fingers against her ass cheeks, the skin warm and sensitive now. “I promised you thirty, and I won’t break my promises to you.”
The
smack
rang in her ears after his hand came down. He rubbed and soothed her cheek and stroked her labia. Again and again, coming faster, an alternating pattern, high and low on each side, and she cried out in pain and pleasure both each time he touched her.
“You color brilliantly, sweet girl, quick to blush under my palm.”
She tilted her hips, desperate to push into his hand, a silent encouragement to slide his fingers inside, but he rubbed her outer lips with teasing lightness. The contrast drove her crazy. The heavy slap forced her body forward against his leg. Firm circles turned the sting into heat. The soft touch, the light stroke across her lips, taunted her with the promise of more.
“So close now to the end, my lovely little masterpiece.”
She whined, a denial.
Can’t be. Need more. Need Henry.
“No? Not the end?” His hand fell, and she groaned and pushed back against him. “You want more?”
“Need more,” she panted, her mouth dry.
He gave her what she wanted, what she needed, his hand falling harder. His fingers drove into her until she climbed beyond thought or speech, attuned to his hand and his voice alone.
“A substitute only, Alice.” His fingers thrust deep. The heel of his hand ground against her lips, a wet smack sounding when he moved. “Soon you’ll have all of me here, harder than this. Deeper than this.”
His voice dropped to a low growl. “Twenty-eight, Alice.”
His hand landed high on her left. No rubbing now, just the plunge of his fingers following.
“Happy birthday, dearest.”
Fingers gone.
Smack.
“Twenty-nine.” High, on the right. Plunge.
“Will you come for me again before I fuck you, dear girl? So tight and wet, eager and moaning.”
His hand pulled back. She held her breath, trembling, toes curled, fingers grasping, heart pumping at breakneck speed.
“Thirty.”
Low, and hard, across the center of her ass, and she was coming even before his fingers dipped inside her. Her climax blazed like fire, overwhelming her senses, her mind floating in the smoke and leaving her body to burn.
She barely registered his fingers leaving or her body shifting or the soft nap of the padded bench on her breasts. Such things seemed wholly disconnected from
Alice
, who existed in a haze so deep she couldn’t find her way back. She babbled his name,
Henry
, the one who brought her here,
Henry Henry Henry Henry
, the sound disappearing into the smoke.
“I’m here, Alice.”
The singing of a zipper falling, and the haze showed her Henry’s dining room as she lay across the table, awaiting that first touch. A quiet grunt. A hand caressing her back. No, that was
now
, not then.
His voice was here, real. “Elegant and strong. Such a flexible beauty. You’ll bend, won’t you, my sweet? You won’t break, not my Alice.”
Henry’s cock banished the last of her haze, a brand of heat hotter still than the burn that renewed itself as his body slapped against hers on every thrust when he entered her. His hands pinned her hips down, a restraint she welcomed as the bench rocked with their motion.
This was fucking. Hard, fast and demanding. No slow buildup. She was either there with him or she wasn’t, and she
was
.
He set a punishing pace testing even his limits, it seemed. He’d be talking otherwise. Honeyed words of praise and appreciation, of encouragement, as she took him deep, her body adjusting to accept his and tightening around him with each thrust. But she heard nothing over the slap of their bodies, his harsh breathing, and, sometimes, a rumbling growl that made her shiver.
He possessed her. In this moment, draped across a velvety bench, nude and blind, thoughts swirling amid the snap of his hips, the flex of powerful thighs, the press of his thumbs on her back and his fingers wrapped around her sides…she was
Henry’s
Alice. Just that.
Her body hung on the edge of flashover, so hot she might melt if she didn’t combust, so eager for it she didn’t care which happened so long as one did. He gave her everything she’d been craving. Pure fucking. Hard cock. All she’d thought she wanted.
Yet it wasn’t those things that turned the flame white-hot again, that made her squirm and shake and cry out with pleasure. It wasn’t the friction or the burn. It wasn’t her focus, the blindfold or the knowledge that Jay had to be watching, his breathing harsh and rapid off to her right. It wasn’t Henry’s powerful thrusts, delightful as they were. Nor even the knowledge that he had to be at the edge of his own control and she the one who’d brought him there with her willing submission.
No. Wrung out as she was after the night’s games, her exhausted, shaking body grateful for the supporting bench holding her up…no. None of those things alone would’ve been enough to give her body the energy it needed.
It was Henry, hips still snapping hard against hers, curving his body over her. Possessive. Protective. The fucking was animalistic, but the feeling was indescribable. Outside her sexual experience with anyone but him.