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I’ve never seen a pierced cock in person before. I’ve definitely never fucked one. And suddenly, I want very, very much to feel that thick, throbbing length thrust into me, those piercings rubbing over every sensitive spot inside.
Being a domme usually means no fucking though. I’ve only ever had a few clients request it, and it’s always up to me if I want to fulfill that request or leave them wanting—they usually specify if they prefer denial over release in some other way. Finn, however, seems to have slipped through without most of the usual paperwork.
Which leaves tonightfarmore open-ended than I’m used to with a client.
But that’s what safewords are for, and I have a sudden, deep-seated desire to leave him wanting tonight. Not necessarily because he’ll want it, but becauseIwant him to come back.
And I have a feeling that if I don’t fuck him tonight, he will.
“You like my cock?” That smirk is on his mouth again, and he reaches down to run his fingers over the piercings, following my gaze. “Wanna feel what these can do inside of you?”
“I didn’t tell you that you could touch your cock. But I did tell you to get on the bed.” My voice has that same husky quality it always does, but the demand is sharp. Finn actuallyflinchesa little before he blinks at me, moving towards the bed with an expression of such aroused confusion that it would have almost been funny in a different circumstance.
Right now, it’s just turning me on.
He stretches out on the bed, his chest rising and falling, taut abs flexing as his cock arches towards them, throbbing visibly. He’s so fucking hard, and I’ve barely touched him. I can see the desire running through every tensed muscle in his body, and my own answers it.
I’m wet. I can feel the leather clinging to me between my thighs, my clit throbbing against the slight friction of it as I move, and I grit my teeth, focusing on him. He paid to be here, and I intend to give him every bit of pleasure he bought—on my terms.
It feels good to be in charge again.
I reach for one of the padded leather cuffs, wrapping it around his wrist. His eyes go wide, and he blinks at me, but he doesn’t say the safeword, so I keep going. I see that round-eyed look again when I cuff his ankles, and I pause, waiting for him to call it.
He doesn’t.
I have absolutely no idea what is going on.Is he here on a dare?I’ve never had a client so clearly ignorant as to what I’m doing here and also so thoroughly aroused, and I can’t think of a clear scenario right now where those two things intersect. I don’t know what he expected when he came up here, but the scene has started, and he didn’t give me any clear ground rules. Until he uses his safeword—which he apparently didn’t even know he was supposed to have…I’m going to have to have a word with Callie—I have to trust that he’s enjoying this.
I step back, admiring my handiwork. He’s stretched out spread-eagle across the bed, cock straight up and throbbing. I move onto the bed with him, kneeling with one leg on either side of one of his, far enough away from his cock that there’s no chance of me accidentally touching it.
Slowly, I start to trace a path up his skin, touching him everywhere but his cock. Normally I’d do this to build up arousal, but Finn is already so turned on that I don’t know how much more erect he can be before his cock bursts. I see his hands flex as I move up his body, tracing up his hips and scratching my nails over the grooves of his abs, his skin shuddering and twitching under my touch until he’s groaning.
“Fuck, I’m so fucking hard—” His blue eyes snap open, looking at me, andgod,I can see the same pleading look in them that I imagined. “My cock feels like it’s going to fucking snap in two.”
“Want me to help?” I move downwards again, enjoying the way his gaze drifts over me, taking in every inch of my body encased in the leather straps. He tugs against the cuffs, his mouth twisting with tortured need as I hover my fingers over the tip of his cock. He’s been leaking pre-cum since before he undid his jeans, most likely—his cockhead is shiny with it, his shaft glistening, the pearlescent fluid dripping between his thighs as his cock jerks and twitches towards my just-out-of-reach fingers.
“Yes,” he groans, his eyes fluttering closed again, hips arching up as he thrusts towards nothing. “God, just touch my fucking cock.”
“Say please like a good boy.” I scratch my nails up his inner thighs. “Want me to play with that cute little piercing?” My fingers hover an inch below his balls, which are tight against his body, and I know exactly how heavy and full he’d feel in my palm.
Finn narrows his eyes. “God, just—fuck, I need—” the words catch in his throat, like he has no idea how to respond and even less of an idea how to articulate what he wants, but I can tell hedoesn’twant to beg for it. He likes being called a good boy even less, I think—which I can relate to—but his cock doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. It throbs, more pre-cum leaking from the tip, and I’m itching to swirl my tongue around it and lick up the taste of him, toying with the piercing while I do.
What I want right now has absolutely nothing to do with my job and everything to do with how this man is making me feel.
I’maching for him, and it’s inconveniently distracting. I’m soaking wet, my clit rubbing against the leather of my lingerie in a way that doesn’t feel at all unpleasant, and I can feel the hollowness of my core tightening over and over, wanting to be filled up by every inch of the thick, delicious cock in front of me. And if we were in a different circumstance—
ButI’mthe one in charge here. And just as much as he turns me on, I feel a sharp, irritated annoyance with him, too. This ismyroom.Myspace. I’m supposed to be the domme here, and yet I’m not entirely in control of my own arousal, my own thoughts. There’s a power exchange going on here outside of the normal realm of things, and I feel off-kilter, out of step with the usual pace.
“You need me to touch your cock.” I hover my fingers close to him again. “Say, please. Ask me to touch it.”
A low growl slips out of his mouth, and I feel it vibrate somewhere deep inside of me, my pussy tightening on nothing.God,I want to fuck him.
“Oh fuck—fine. God, just touch it,fuck—” He hisses the words out through his teeth, hips rolling, his cock swaying as he glares at me with clear sexual frustration. “Fuck—”
I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a man so hard. I reach out, trailing my fingertips up the underside of his cock, all the way to the soft flesh just beneath the tip. The moan he lets out is almost pained as his cock shudders, his hips writhing again as his head falls back.
“God, I didn’t know that could feel so good.” His eyes are closed, his body straining for more as I pull my hand back. “What—why did you stop?”
I smirk at him, still straddling his leg, fighting the urge to rub myself against his thigh. My own clit is swollen and throbbing, the slight friction of the leather enough to drive me a little mad with the constant pleasure that’s never enough to do more than bolster my arousal, and I could grind myself against him, give myself the sweet pleasure of an orgasm—
