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He gasped, struggling to articulate clearly. “You don’t get to do this, Mausi. I decide…when… Do you want to be punished?” He clenched my hair tighter, stinging my scalp slightly.
I moved my hands around his body, stroking his soft body hairs
until I found his firm buttocks. I clutched each ass cheek and clung onto them. Saliva trickled down my chin. I didn’t care that I was tormenting him with my oral skills. He’d threatened me with one of his glorious punishment fucks. How could I resist that?
He shuddered, held my head steady in his hands and spurted hot cum into my mouth. I gulped down every drop then licked him clean with my feverish tongue.
He staggered backward, and my head flopped down.
I waited expectantly in the darkness for him to take me, use me. Perhaps over the sofa, or up against the wall, or maybe one more time sliding over his glass table. All I heard was… He was putting his clothes back on! I was sure I heard jeans rustling and the belt buckle jangling.
Bright lights flooded my sight. I blinked repeatedly until I grew accustomed to the daylight again. Stefan, smiling, dangled the blindfold before me. “I’m postponing your punishment fuck. I need a little recuperation time and you will stay naked for the duration.”
I gaped, eyes widening in disbelief. “You… You bastard,” I blurted. Secretly, I was being driven crazy with lust and he probably knew it. My pussy clamored for attention and I had the strong sensation of wetness below—a slick reservoir had formed between my legs. I was convinced if I stood it would trickle down. My knees ached. I’d gone from oblivion to serious discomfort.
“Let me help you up.” The pleasant smile remained on his face.
I hobbled over to the kitchen and downed a glass of cold water. Wiping the back of my hand over my lips, I continued to glare at him from across the room. He’d only put his jeans back on and had had the audacity to leave the top button undone, the leather belt hanging unbuckled and his lack of underpants on display. He flaunted his bare chest at me too.
Well, two can play that game. I swaggered over to him, swinging my hips with my best ‘this is what you’re missing’ gait.
“Mausi.” He wagged a finger at me. “Remember, I’m the fox.”
The reference to his mysterious alter ego stopped me dead in my tracks. “I have to use the bathroom.”
I splashed cold water in my face. What did he mean by that? I’d succumbed so quickly to his wicked charms, his seduction. I’d played Nettie naked for him—something he must have delighted in immensely—then I’d sucked him into a heavenly orgasm, going by what had landed in my mouth.
Those niggling doubts crept back in. He liked to be in control—that much was obvious. How far was he willing to take me? Would I be prepared to let him lead me down an unknown path or would I fall by the wayside? I didn’t want to fail him, but I also didn’t want to be his sex toy. I wasn’t a game to be played out until boredom arrived. I sought romance. Companionship. Maybe—dare I say it?—love.
I frowned in the mirror.
“Are you all right?” He rapped on the door.
“Yes,” I shouted.
“Good. Come out and join me.”
I opened the bathroom door, and he stood back to let me out. A ripple of shivers ran across my naked flesh. “I’m cold.”
“I’ve a lovely soft blanket. You can curl up in that. I’ve found a Fred Astaire movie on the telly. Don’t you just love those old musicals?” He sounded cheerful, oblivious to my concerns.
I did love old movies. I buried my fears and stepped into his spacious living room, my feet pattering on the wooden boards. He held a blanket as promised and a glass of red wine. Perhaps I was judging him too harshly. He looked fantastic, super sexy and still all mine. I would wait and he could decide when to fuck me. That was fine. I could live with that.
I dozed off, stretched out on the sofa with Stefan at one end. An afternoon nap—something I’d not done in years. Even the suave Fred couldn’t keep my eyelids open. Swathed in a fleecy, soft blanket, my feet lying on top of Stefan’s lap, the TV became a distant focal point, blurring until I slipped away.
* * * *
“Callie.”
I stirred, muttered, “Go away.”
“My Mausi, wakey, wakey.”
He kissed me awake. Little pecks on my forehead, and the bristles of his beard tickled my nose. I tried to push him off, but he lay on top of me and didn’t stop until I opened my eyes.
The film credits scrolled up the screen. I’d missed over half of the movie. I yanked the blanket up under my chin and stuck my tongue out at him. He shook his head. Previously, such a motion would have involved his tousled hair bouncing about inelegantly. Now, the dark hairs remained fixed, sculpted around his face while his goatee framed his firm lips.
He planted an elbow on either side of my head, trapping me. I swallowed. I could guess what he wanted.
