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When she leans in and kisses me again, I reach behind her and unzip the dress, causing its front to fall forward and off. I slide her shoulder straps down, and, suddenly, I’m staring at two mouthwatering headlights accentuated by the new tan lines Hannah has acquired over the past few days of fun in the sun. I pull on the dress, sending it crumpling onto the floor, and then dive head-first into Hannah’s cleavage.
As I devour her, Hannah runs her hands through my hair. “I want you to tie me up,” she purrs. “Tease and torture me into telling you all my biggest secrets.”
I look up, shocked. The last time we role-played, Hannah balked at being tied up because, she said, she’s not willing to surrender complete control of her body. So, what’s changed?
Hannah smiles wickedly. “A few of Kat’s wild stories inspired me to want to expand my horizons a bit.” She touches my cheek. “I trust you, Henny. I know I’m in the best possible hands. I’m ready to experience complete surrender.”
I don’t know what I did in a past life to deserve a gift this epic—and mere minutes after Ryan Morgan gave me detailed instructions for giving Hannah “honey bunches of O’s” with my fingers, culminating in experiencing her all-body orgasm while burrowed inside her. But, hey, whatever it was, I’m deeply grateful to my past incarnation. I take a deep breath. “I’m always game to do anything you want. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.” Her eyebrow quirks up. “Back in character, okay?”
I nod and assume my stupid accent. “Mark my words, Zelda, by the time I’m finished with you, I’m going to know all your secrets.”
“Ha! Impossible. But give it zhe best attempt.”
I finish undressing her and then guide her onto the bed. “Wait here,” I command, before striding around our hotel suite in search of something to tie her with, as well as proper implements of torture. We didn’t pack any sex toys or bindings for our trip to paradise, but it doesn’t take me long to gather substitutes.
I use belts to bind Hannah’s wrists to the headboard and two of her long sundresses for her ankles, and then pull off my clothes and stand before her, my cock hard and my chest heaving. During Ryan’s explanation about The Sure Thing, he emphasized the importance of anticipation. Taking one’s time. Keeping her guessing. Also, using lots of dirty-talk and compliments. So, I follow his every instruction to a tee.
“You look fucking incredible,” I say, ditching my fake accent.
“So do you,” she whispers.
I’m not a perfect specimen, like the dudes I had drinks with earlier. I often joke I’ve got “heating pad abs,” instead of “six-pack” ones. But the look in Hannah’s eyes makes me feel like I’m a golden god in her eyes—like she’s as genuinely turned-on by the sight of me as I am by the sight of her.
I grab an ice cube from one of the rum punches and run it across her belly and inner thighs, before licking up the trail of liquid it leaves behind. From there, I kiss and lick the sensitive flesh between her legs, taking great care to avoid her actual bull’s-eye for now.
When Hannah begins writhing and pulling against her straps with increasing enthusiasm, I decide she’s ready for some direct stimulation. I flicker my tongue against her hard, swollen tip, teasing her, and she moans far more loudly than I would have expected. Wow.
I lean in and blow on her clit before licking her in earnest, and as she moans and purrs, I slide my fingers inside her and massage her G-spot. Holy shit, in no time at all, Hannah’s innermost muscles begin rippling against my fingers. It’s not the spot Ryan described, but it’s only round one, and I’m pretty sure I’m doing this right. So far, so good.
I crawl up to Hannah’s face and whisper, “Your secrets will be mine, Zelda,” before kissing her passionately. As we kiss, I caress her breasts. Stroke her hip bone. And then brush my fingers gently against her slit, up and down. I begin a steady stream of dirty talk, as instructed. I tell her she’s delicious. Looks hot. That she turns me on and drives me crazy and I can’t get enough. And when she’s gyrating and writhing against her bindings and purring in near-desperate anticipation, I take a deep breath and decide it’s time to go for it. I’m not positive I can find Hannah’s A-spot on my first try or stroke it exactly the way Ryan described to maximum effect, but I’m sure as hell going to try my best.
While whispering a steady stream of compliments into Hannah’s ear, I slide my fingers inside her, and to my surprise, quickly find the seam Ryan described. It’s at the farthest reaches inside her, and thanks to her extreme arousal, it’s swollen and wet as hell. I move my fingers the way Ryan described, over and over again, stroking the supposedly magical spot without mercy or variation as I await clear signs from Hannah’s body that she’s teetering on the bitter edge, like Ryan described.
