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“Castor, don’t. Let me go freshen up.” I tense my legs, but his massive hands squeeze them to tell me no. “Please.”
“This is all I ever wanted.” He shoves my legs open, making me gasp with pleasure.
I’m vulnerable in a different sort of way. Usually I make sure I’m a presentation, like a dessert meant to be eaten. Here, I’m… raw.
“There’s something you should know about me,” he purrs as his tongue dangles over my clit. “I’m into fetishes.”
I squeeze my legs around his head as he dives in as deep as his tongue will let him. I throw my head back, looking at the new chandelier above me without seeing it. It’s all pleasure. Sick, sick pleasure. I’m self-conscious about my scent, but he’s never been this riled with me.
One look at the mess on the floor, then at his groping hands… I’m irresistible to him. It makes me want him more. It’s not that outlandish; I’d do the same to him. I’d suck him dry even if he just climbed a mountain. Seeing him drenched in sweat the other day… if circumstances were different, I would’ve let him fuck me in any hole.
Yes. The shockwaves of pleasure rippling through me are incredible.
I’m giving in.
“Do whatever you want to me, Castor,” my voice is nothing but a whispered moan.
I regret my words when he pulls away.
“No! Anything but stopping.” I reach for his head to push him back down there, but he fights me on it.
I’m left there – pussy out – leaning with my elbows on the table trying to catch my breath. What the hell is he doing? I watch him reach into his suit jacket on the back of his chair and pull out a box.
“This isn’t the time to give me another golden gift, Castor. Fuck me.”
I don’t care. I start fingering myself if he won’t. He ignites a beast inside me. If he can lick my sweaty pussy, I can show him how I get off.
My eyes widen when he opens the case to a string of golden beads that get larger as they progress.
Another pulse of pleasure erupts from fear. Does he want to…?
“Anything?” He leans over me, work shirt all torn, abs peeking through.
How can I say no? “Anything.”
He flips me over on the table – making it teeter – and feel every inch of my breasts pressed against the warm wood. My finger scratches back down my belly, toward my clit. I’m surrendering all of my inhibitions. And I mean all of them.
The gold steel ball teases my second hole, making my eyes roll to the back of my head. I’ve never done anything like this before. Usually guys only want one thing.
Mmph. The first link is in. Feels like a pinky – it’s nice.
Then he starts pulling my flats off. What is he doing now?
The tickle of his tongue around my big toe almost makes me kick him in the face. Is he nuts? I giggle from the sensation, but when he wraps his whole mouth around it while sticking the second bead into my hole, I slap the table with my free hand.
Fuck.
So much pleasure. He’s playing my whole body like an instrument. And it’s an instrument that hasn’t been cleaned. “You’re a sick fuck.” I turn back to the image of him sucking on my toes.
He nods at me while unzipping his pants.
Yeah, I think I’m ready for that.
He releases my leg as I start to turn to get off the table. Castor reaches for the beads, but I slap his hand away. “Leave them in,” I say, and can almost measure how much harder he got from me playing along.
The table teeters again as I climb off, leaving my pending orgasm in reserve for the thick rod of roped veins waiting for my mouth. As I crawl on my knees, he grabs me again and flips me effortlessly so I’m upside down in his arms.
Does this man ever stop giving?
