54 - Games People Play

Her heart was racing with anticipation, but Petey refused to allow her gaze to waver or her hand to shrink away.  She pushed her fingers back to cup his testicles, appreciating the air that hissed between his teeth.  Jon may want to be immune to her, but he wasn’t – any more than she was to him.

“And the good news is,” she pushed onward, gliding up over the rigid steel.  “You don’t have to do a thing but suffer through it.  Tonight it’s my show.”

That had been a last moment inspiration before she’d left her apartment.  While lacing up the back of her corset, she’d noticed the silkiness of the ribbon that trussed it together.  Evil grin in place, it had taken no time to devise a very tempting plan before she extracted the ribbon from a different corset hanging in her closet. 

Now, she tucked the fingers of her left hand into her cleavage, slowly withdrawing the wide, black satin strand of satin.  Jon could do nothing but push his hardness into her palm and watch the ribbon materialize, transfixed on the origination point between her breasts.

His voice was thick when asking, “And what do you think you’re going to do with that, little girl?”

Little girl was a good sign.  A very good sign.

Reluctantly releasing the only solid proof of his interest, she trailed her touch up over his stomach, feathering outward across his waistline until she could grasp his right wrist.  “You know exactly what I’m going to do with it,” she informed him darkly. 

Jon’s nostrils flared at her seductive threat, and his heat began to warm her skin.  It gave her the courage to plunder forward and let the tiniest bit of emotion seep into her words.

“Tonight you’re mine.”

His eyes lit with humor.  “I am, am I?  And what is it that you’re going to do with me?” he asked with bemusement, clearly not the least bit worried.

Smug bastard, she thought without rancor.  I’ll show you…

Petey leisurely looped the ribbon around the back of his neck while pressing soft lips to the corner of his mouth.  Their mouths were so close that he froze with anticipation, uncertain if this was the moment that she was going to break her own rule.

Not a chance…

As she lazily dragged the ribbon over the bare skin of his nape, she glazed his cheek with her open mouth.  The short journey from there to his ear was made to be slow, languorous and sultry.  She crept along the stubbled cheek and jaw, warming the flesh with her breath, tongue occasionally flicking out for a taste of salty skin.  She could smell the whiskey that he’d been drinking, and it reminded her of another night – a very good night.

Petey levered up on tiptoe, the point of her tongue teasing the curve of his ear before she blew on it.  “Anything I want,” she whispered, elated when she felt his prominent gulp, followed by the erection bumping eagerly against her belly.

He drew back to look into her face.  A face that, she knew, he was silently critiquing - rhinestone eyelashes, heavy black liner that stretched well beyond her eyes, ebony shadow, blood red lips and inky smudges on her cheeks.

“I thought I told you no more funky-ass contacts and Goth makeup,” he rumbled, one hand skating up the back of her thigh.

She stepped out of his reach before he could smack her ass, giving her head a cocky, yet inquiring, tilt.  “Are you sure?  Because you also thought I cared, and that didn’t happen either.”

His reluctant chuckle made her feel as though she’d conquered the world.  Granting him a flirtatious wink, she then captured the hem of his ratty old shirt, turned her feet toward the guest room and pulled him along behind her, even as he grumped, “I should turn you over my knee for that.”

“But you won’t,” she said with confidence.  “Because you’re too damn curious about what I’ve got up my sleeve.”  Realizing that she wore no sleeves, Petey amended.  “Or, rather, down my corset.”

“I’m not that curious.”

Laughing carelessly, she stopped before the bed and spun to face him, playfully accusing, “Once again, you’re a liar Jon Bon Jovi.  You’re so curious you can’t stand it.  You hate to relinquish your control, but at the same time you want to see what the hype about submission is.”

Before her lips closed around the last word, his hand was at the back of her head, tugging on the hair there with authority.  “Do I?  Are you sure about that, Sugar?”

Sugar!  All defenses have now been breached.

“Take off your shirt.”  The command was no more than a thin wisp swirling in the air, but it was as steadfast as his intense possession of her eyes.

“No.”  His refusal was just as soft and just as steadfast.

“Fine,” she agreed, untroubled.  Her hands reached for his right pectoral muscle where a hole the size of a silver dollar had grown to eat away at the ‘B’ in Beatles.  Inserting two fingers from each hand in the hole, she pulled apart with all her strength, effectively shredding the thin cotton from his chest to waist.  “I have all night.  If this takes longer than I planned, it just means you’ll only get to come once.”

His grin was positively wicked.

“It appears as though I’ve underestimated you, Imp.  You’re far more evil than I’ve given you credit for.” 

The remains of his shirt hit the floor with a soft ‘plop’.

Petey had never felt a rush like this.  It was more than exhilarating, it was… enthralling, captivating and spellbinding all rolled into one.  This little bit of power that he’d granted her carried with it a concentrated cloud of euphoria.  Yes, even in this state, she was aware that she couldn’t truly have power over him if he didn’t allow it.  In the following breath, she also realized that he didn’t have power either, unless she granted it. 

Her senses began to resonate with the intoxicating notion.  This was trust in its purest form.

She swallowed deeply, averting her eyes to the small lump of cotton that was balled up on the carpet.  “Pants,” she murmured.  “Drop them.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Her head snapped up to find a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and the flannel pants proceeded to join the shirt. 

Ultimate trust.

This?  This was what she’d given to him?  How had she not realized the significance of it before now?  She’d completely entrusted herself into his care, and now he was doing the same.  There was no greater control. 

Petey couldn’t decide if her heart was going to stop beating altogether or explode from over activity.   

The forgotten ribbon burned in the palm of her hand, and she was forced to divert her attention to something more tangible. 

“Hold your hands out in front of you.”

He complied without comment, and she fought to contain the trembling as she guided the insides of his wrists together and began binding them in satin.  Jon didn’t bother watching, choosing instead to twist and dip his head to look down into her face.

“Sugar?”

Not now.  Don’t call me that now.

“Are you chickening out on me?”

Her… shakiness was mercifully shoved away by a burst of insulted pride.  “In your dreams,” she sniffed, tying the final knot – probably tighter than it should have been.  “Onto the bed, hands up over your head.”  One easy prod had him falling against the mattress, and he used his feet to scoot up on the comforter.

Petey took just a moment to admire the view.

The man was nothing short of a work of art.  Thick leg muscles, narrow hips, the sculpted vee that directed the way from his abdomen to his proud manhood...   His proud, proud manhood standing at the ready and quivering with excitement, the head already bulging and purple. 

She forced her eyes past it to the downy rug of hair that covered his muscled chest, and the sculpted biceps that were held aloft, as per her instruction.  Then there was the deliciously masculine Adam’s apple that bobbed enticingly when he swallowed. 

This would be the first time she’d been permitted to explore the Candyland of his body.  He’d always been more focused on her and her pleasure.  While Petey appreciated it, this looked to be pretty pleasurable, too.  Plus, there was always the off-chance that she might be able to drive him half as crazy as he did her.  That would be the icing on one very delectable cake.

“You just gonna stare at me all night?” he teased with a sardonic lift of his brow.

She raised her eyes to meet his twinkling ones and smirked.  “Maybe.”  Petey liked this playful Jon.  A lot. 

“Think you could roll over on your stomach without snapping anything off?”

His laughter echoed off the walls and made her toes tingle with delight.  “Yeah, I can probably manage it.”  To prove his point, he first rolled onto his side and then eased over so that everything landed in a comfortable position.

Had she mentioned his backside?  Holy Mary, Mother of God, it was perfect – dimpled in some spots, and hard as a rock in other. 

Nimbly hopping onto the bed, she slid alongside him, hands easing up his calves.  The hair there was sparse, but there was enough to tickle her palm until she reached the first destination of interest:  the backs of his knees.

The skin there looked smooth and unmarred, begging to be touched.  She dipped her head behind his left leg, licking along the crease before biting gently. 

He jerked under the faint punishment and she smirked, moving to offer the other leg a similar treatment.  She enjoyed it so much that she nibbled her way up the backs of his thighs, and had the ultimate satisfaction of smacking him on that beautiful backside when he started squirming.  In all actuality, she barely tapped him because she was afraid to, but the noise was satisfying.

“Watch yourself back there, Imp,” he murmured drolly, arcing his back and twisting so he could see her.

She reached up and palmed the back of his head the best she could, pushing his face back into the pillow.  “Quiet, you.  I told you, this is my show tonight.”

Straddling his butt, she rolled her hips forward against its roundness as she glided her palms from his

waist to neck.  She then repeated the process in reverse, this time grinding her hips along with the roll.  Suddenly aching to feel his skin against hers, Petey took a moment to reach behind her and release the fastening on the corset and then toss it aside.  Bending at the waist, she pressed her breasts into his back and nipped softly at his shoulder.

“Christ,” he groaned, sounding to be in near agony.

Petey smiled contentedly and rubbed herself up and down his spine, distributing her lovebites equally between his left and right shoulder.  Her nipples were stiff and she smothered her own groan as they pressed into the hardness of his shoulder blades.

“Turn over,” she commanded throatily, sitting upright but not giving up her straddled position.  He was going to have to roll over between her thighs.

Jon was exceptionally careful in following the Imp Mistress’s command this time.  Feeling her bare skin against his and her scattered nibbles had him harder than when she'd originally ordered him to roll over, but he navigated the limited maneuvering space with little problem.  The problem came when he was flat of his back, looking up at the sinfully disheveled woman hovering above him with her beautiful breasts exposed.

His first instinct was to sit up so that he could latch onto one of the pretty pink nipples and roll it in his tongue, but she shot that down quickly.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I was going to put that tempting titty in my mouth.”

“Mmm.”  She gave him a mysterious smile.  “Maybe I’ll let you do that later.  Right now I’m still enjoying your captivity.”

Bringing her bottom up to his waist, she leaned forward and combed her fingertips through the graying chest hair, scraping her short nails across his nipples.

“Grnhhh…”

Petey liked that noise, so she did it again.

“Grnhnhnhhhh…” he gurgled more loudly.   “Do you even have panties on under that damn little skirt?  I can feel your hot pussy scorching me.”

“No.”  Bending her head, she knelt to capture one of the now stiff nipples in her mouth, flicking her tongue over it and making a wide wet circle around its circumference. 

His captive hands came to tuck under her chin, so that he could scowl at her.  “You came over here in a taxi with no panties on?”                                       

Her butt scooched backward to come in contact with his erection.   Petey levered up on her knees so that its length stroked along the crevice between her buttocks, the tip bumping against the velvet of her skirt.  “Is that really what you want to talk about now?”

He let it go with a quiet groan and a tilt of his hips.

She stroked, she petted, and she kissed every inch of his chest, neck, stomach and hips, loving the smell of him.  Loving the taste of him.  But, most especially, loving the way he came to life under her touch.  He couldn’t hold still.  Each time she would abandon him, he’d writhe to get closer again, missing her touch.

Petey slipped off of the bed, intently taking note of his glassy eyes and jagged breaths as she kicked her shoes away and allowed the skirt to slither to the floor. 

“Now,” he rasped.  “Now, goddammit.”

One corner of her mouth kicked up, and she smoothed a soft hand over his cheek.  “Now what, Jon?  Tell me what you want,” she offered, turning the tables on him. 

The penetrating blue depths of his eyes clashed with hers.  “You know what I want.”

“Do I?” she asked coyly, tracing his bottom lip with her thumb.  “Are you sure?  Maybe you should spell it out for me, just to be safe.”

If she’d had any delusions about his backing down, they were shattered with his next raw, earthy words.  “I want my cock buried in you,” he grated.  “And I want you to ride me, with those beautiful titties bouncing in my face, until I"m so torqued up that I have to shoot my load in that hot pussy of yours.”

Petey felt the flush flow over her entire body at the bawdy honesty.  It was so crude, it should have been offensive, but his need was so blatant that she found herself hot with the same need.

“Maybe next time,” she finally choked out.  That sounded hot, and amazing, but it wasn’t on her agenda at the moment.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” was his outraged growl.

There was no point in arguing with him.  Instead, she curled her fingers around the shaft of iron that was doing its best  to act as a flagpole.  “How about you shoot that load in another hot place?”  She ran her lips over his cheekbone, whispering, “I’ve never tasted it.”

If he’d been in any danger of having an aneurism, Jon knew it would’ve happened just then, because his blood pressure spiked to dangerous levels.  He almost didn’t trust himself to speak, but he couldn’t resist the illusion of control.  “Then suck me dry, Imp.”

He held very still, appreciating every subtle touch of skin on skin as her naked body worked its way down his, finding a comfortable spot next to his right hip.  All the while, she never released him, stroking her little hand up and down his hard-on and squeezing the tip. 

This wouldn’t take very long, he feared.

Long, torturous moments later, she finally guided him between her lips.

Jon’s moan of pleasure was loud to the point of embarrassment, but he didn’t care, he realized as he watched her pretty lips working his shaft.  The memory of the last time she’d done this had built itself up so large in his mind that he’d been certain it was ninety percent fantasy.

It wasn’t.

Her mouth was just as fucking incredible as he’d remembered.  More so, if that was even possible.

She devoured him from tip to sac, sucking him down and rolling her tongue across him like a popsicle.  Petey’s nose was touching his groin when she hummed, sending the vibrations through every nerve ending between his knees and his waist.

“Oh God, Sugar…”

Lips, tongue, teeth and hands were perfectly choreographed, dancing him through one of the most mind-blowing interludes of his life as she made love to him with her mouth.  Petey’s touch was so lasciviously sensual and moving that he couldn’t help himself.  He had to touch her.

Jon brought his bound hands over his head so that he could put his fingers in her hair as she worked him into a state of mindlessness that was unrivaled by anything in recent memory.  Hell, maybe ever.  She consumed him as though there were nothing left in the world but the two of them and this was the only thing that would keep them alive.

“Petey.  Baby.  Oh, Baby.”  Tension built from the tip of his toes to the roots of his hair as she set the launch pad for his imminent takeoff.  Bad manners or not, he couldn’t help but try and guide her head and set the pace.  He was beyond rational thought.  He was beyond anything but this beautiful woman and her intention to turn him inside out.

“Yeah, Baby, that’s it.”  The familiar buzz began from within the depths of his testicles.  His fingers kneaded more firmly against her scalp.  “Jesus.  It’s coming.”

As though it were the cue she’d been waiting for, Petey swirled her tongue in some mysterious way and sucked really, really hard.

“Fuuuck!”  His hips bucked with release, and the light exploded behind his eyelids.  “ Grrnnhh! Take it, Baby!” He felt her gag, but it only lasted a second before she was greedily drinking down the payoff she’d worked so hard to achieve.  She lazily licked and licked at him until every last drop was cleaned away and he was soft in her mouth.

Jon refused to think.  He wanted nothing more than to float through the buzz, enjoying the kisses she was peppering across his belly.  When his heart rate came back to normal…  Well, even then he didn’t want to think.  He just wanted to be a girl and bask in the afterglow of the newest addition to his Top Ten Blowjob list.