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I blinked, too desire-drugged to make sense of what he was asking me. “What?” I said.
He smiled, a real, genuine smile. “Are there any fantasies you have?” he asked again. “Anything you would like for me to make come true?”
I bit my lip and tried to think through the pounding of blood in my head. What did I truly desire with Anton? What did I truly want him to do to me?
I shook my head. “I have no fantasies,” I said. “I'm just happy to be here.” And I smiled at myself, at my own need. How little it took to make me happy. I just wanted to be with him, to grow with him.
For a long moment he said nothing, merely played idly with my nipples, gently stoking the fire inside my belly as he let his hand wander where it would. I wondered if he were trying to get me to fill up the silence, as if he thought I had been hiding something, but it had been true. Besides, Anton was way better at dreaming up new things to do than I was. I waited patiently for him to use me for his pleasure.
“Sit up,” he said at last, withdrawing his hand. I did so, struggling back onto my knees without the help of my bound hands. Between my legs, my pussy was soaking wet, hot and sticky. I surreptitiously rubbed it over my heels, which did nothing to ease my almost-painful arousal and only got my feet sticky as well as the inside of my thighs.
Anton rose to his knees, running his hands over my body. Gently he tugged at the ropes binding me. No matter where he plucked, every other place where the ropes touched my skin became erotically charged. He manipulated me like a marionette, and by the time he untied the securing knot and slid the ropes from me I was panting and painfully aroused. Ropes snaked over my skin as he untied me, until I was free and wild.
Reaching out, Anton slid his arms around me and pulled me close. His skin on mine electrified me, and when his cock probed my belly I thought I would collapse. Softly, he kissed me, first on the forehead, then the cheeks and finally on my lips, a gentle, nibbling caress. His huge warm hands spread out over my back, pulling me close. My breasts rubbed over his chest, my nipples points of fire as I wrapped my arms around his neck and moved my body against his, restless and needy.
Abruptly he pulled back and lay down on the bed, stretching his arms over his head, laying his magnificent body out before me like a banquet. The hard planes and sharp valleys invited my fingers, called to my mouth. I wanted to taste every inch of him. His cock jutted up from his crotch, his balls high and tight, as though he were about to come at any second.
“Fuck me, Felicia,” he said.
I stared at him. Did... did he mean it?
“You... you'd be all right with that?” I asked him. He would truly give me control?
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and I could see how difficu
lt this was, but he remained immobile, spread out against the sheets. His breath came hard and fast. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “Fuck me, Felicia. Climb on top of me and use me. I want to see you come as you ride me.”
Oh my god, I thought. I'd never been in charge. Only a few times had I stolen control from him, and he'd never reacted well.
“Trixie,” I said.
He blinked. “What?” he said.
“Trixie. Our safeword.”
Anton frowned, puzzled. He hesitated for a second. “Why? Are you... are you not comfortable taking control?”
I sat down next to him. “I want to make sure you are. And I really mean it. You don't...” I waved my hand. “You don't have to do this.”
His shoulders, tense, relaxed almost imperceptibly. Reaching out, he cupped my face in his hand, running his fingers over my throat, smoothing his thumb against my jaw. The gesture was so tender, so sweet... it summoned a tightness in my chest and a lump in my throat.
Don't cry, you big sop, I told myself. There are probably few bigger turnoffs than a crying wife. I mean... someone's into it, I'm sure, but I didn't want to risk it. I touched his hand with mine, warmth spreading out over my skin. “Are you sure?”
That faint Buddha smile again, but this time I knew it was genuine. “I trust you,” he said.
My heart cracked a bit, sending something sweet and sad through me, but I shoved it away. This was it. This would make or break us.
I swung my leg over him and straddled his thighs. Between my legs his cock stood straight and straining, pulsing slightly with the beat of his heart. I reached out and ran my fingers over it, feeling the velvety skin slide over the steel hidden inside. He hissed between his teeth, his hips jerking a little, but he held still. Leaning down, I put my lips to his cock and bathed it with my tongue.
His breathing became faster and faster, the muscles of his thighs tensing and releasing as I worked his erection. The sweet taste of precum curled in my mouth as I ran my lips over the soft head. Reaching down, I cupped his balls in my hand, weighing them, feeling them tighten as I put his cock in my mouth.
“God, Felicia,” he ground out, “if you don't stop that this is going to be over quickly.”
I glanced at him and gave him a coy smile. “Did you miss me so badly you didn't even touch yourself?” I asked him. “Jacking off just couldn't compare?”
“Yes,” he said.
“You got it bad,” I said, impressed. I have never known a guy who could go more than a few days without jacking it.
