Blackestnights (3 page)

He demonstrated, sounding a little like a Lamaze coach.

“Got it?” He caressed my cheek and I turned my face into his hand, nodding.

Placing my hands on his thighs, he slid his cock into my mouth. “Tap me three times if you’re having trouble breathing and I’ll slow down.”

Black started off more slowly this time, giving me the opportunity to adjust my lips and practice the rhythmic breathing. Once I’d gotten comfortable, he leaned me back again, straddling my torso. I could still touch his thighs, but I couldn’t extricate myself from his grip as easily I had earlier. A twinge of fear heightened my senses, the feeling of helplessness and loss of control setting my body on fire. My cunt pulsed, ripples of arousal coursing through me. In this moment, I was his to do with as he pleased. I had to trust him to stop if I signaled him to stop. Even though we’d just met and we were still getting to know each other, I did trust him. He emanated power and confidence with an undercurrent of tenderness. A rare combination.

Little by little, he worked up to pounding my mouth. Focusing all my energy on breathing properly, I did my best to cope with the demanding rhythm. The harder he fucked my face, the more I wanted to please him.

He seemed to have unending stamina and I had no clue how much time had passed. Alternating between hard and fast thrusting and slower, deeper strokes, he varied his technique every so often, which gave me a chance to catch my breath. My jaw ached and my throat was raw from the head of his cock slamming against it, but I held on.

His legs trembled and he bucked erratically. Finally he exploded, pulling out so that only the tip of his shaft pressed to my mouth. Thick ropes of cum oozed down my lips and chin.

“Lick it up,” he groaned.

Laving the sticky fluid, I found it tasted sweet, not as tart or pungent as some men I’d known.

He pushed into my mouth again and held me still. When his spasms had subsided, Black wrapped his arms around my head, hugging me. “That was perfect.”

His satisfaction sent a burst of pride through me. Granted, my pussy still ached for release and I couldn’t wait for him to allow me to come, but his pleasure afforded me a different type of sated feeling. I relished his small bit of praise.

He withdrew and helped me to my feet. “Let’s take a break.”

My hopes of continuing the play deflated. How could he leave me like this—unfulfilled and dying for release? Apparently my disappointment showed on my face.

“We have all night and I will allow you to come. You need to be patient.” He zipped up his pants.

I nodded though I didn’t feel at all patient.

“Come on.” He took me by the hand and led me to the living room.

Black told me to sit on the sofa while he disappeared into the kitchen. I settled in to await his return. Sinking into great mounds of downy stuffing, I was grateful for the fluffy sofa cushions. Clearly he’d thought about the fact that his guests would need something soft to sit on once they’d visited the playroom.

Once he returned, he set a tray on the unadorned wooden cocktail table. He poured a glass of wine and handed it to me, then one for himself.

“Thanks, but shouldn’t I serve you?” I asked, taking my glass.

“No.” He took the seat next to me and offered no further explanation.

“I don’t quite understand what’s expected of me yet. As your sub.”

“What’s to understand? Did I tell you to serve me wine?”

“No.”

“Then why would you think you were supposed to? I think I’ve been clear—you do what I say, no more, no less.”

“Yes, you have been.” I took a sip of wine. “It’s my fault. I’m new at this.”

“I know you are.” He brushed a lock of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “It’s one of the things that drew me to you. You haven’t been tainted by someone else’s training.”

Ah. Well, that explained a lot. It wasn’t me he was interested in so much as my status as a novice. My ego deflated—I could hear the
whooshing
sound in my head as though it were a balloon with a slow leak.

“I said it’s
one
of the things that drew me to you. Not the
only
thing.” He took a drink, staring at me over top of his glass.

I chuckled, self-conscious that he’d read my mind yet again. “How do you do that? It’s kind of spooky.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “It’s no big trick. You broadcast your feelings in your expression and your body language.”

Studying his face, I had no clue what he was thinking. Apparently I didn’t have the knack for it that he did.

“You asked earlier if I’m a photographer. I am. I work so much with the human form that I’ve gotten intimately acquainted with its subtleties.”

So this was how it worked. He’d mete out tidbits of personal information when and if he saw fit.

“And obscene cross-sections of fruit.”

“Those aren’t mine. A friend took them.”

A friend. What in the world did that vague term mean? He’d prohibited me from seeing other men while we were involved, but he’d given no indication whether he was allowed other playmates. I thought about asking, but in truth, I didn’t want to know.

Instead I asked, “Are you a professional photographer or is it a hobby?”

“I sell my work in galleries up and down the East Coast and in Los Angeles.”

I took in the quality of his furnishings, his taste in clothes, hell, his taste in wine. This was no fifteen-dollar bottle from the supermarket, even my unrefined palette could discern that much. Clearly he sold
a lot
of photographs.

“That’s impressive.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Feeling as though I were Alice after she’d drunk from the bottle in Wonderland, I shrank against the puffy back cushions of the sofa. Black took my glass of wine and set it aside. I knew there was no point objecting that I wasn’t finished with it.

“What do you do?” he asked.

“Nothing quite so interesting.”

“I didn’t ask you if your job is interesting, I asked you what it is.”

“I-I’m a customer service agent at the cable company in town.”

He wrinkled his nose. “You’re right. That isn’t interesting. You should find a better way to spend your time.”

My cheeks heated and I struggled to control my indignation. We couldn’t all be hoity-toity photographers. My job paid the bills and it was all I could find in this godforsaken economy and—

“I’ve upset you,” he said.

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. Tell me why you’re upset.”

Really, I had nothing to lose by speaking my mind. If I offended him, maybe he’d take me back to the playroom and teach me a lesson. Maybe this time I’d get to come. My labia and clit ached from the climax he denied me.

“I feel like you’re making fun of me. I know it’s a shitty job, you don’t have to tell me that.”

“What did you want to be when you were younger?”

“They’re not very interesting dreams either.”

“Answer the question.” He took my hand.

I sighed, sure he would make fun of me again. “I don’t know—a ballerina, Barbie, Mary Lou Retton.”

A gentle smile pulled at his lips. “Okay, but those are the dreams of a child. What did you aspire to be when you were in high school or college?”

I hadn’t finished college, a fact that further humiliated me. Clearly Black was educated and successful. I was neither of those things.

“I dropped out of college.”

“Again, not what I asked you.” He pinched my face, forcing me to look at him. “Why are you making this so difficult?”

Swallowing hard, I closed my eyes. Why was I being so evasive? But I knew the answer to that question.

“Because it’s too painful to think about things I’ll never get to do.”

He let go of my cheeks, taking my hand again. “Open your eyes.”

I did as I was told, but couldn’t force myself to meet his gaze.

“Look at me, little Red.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I complied.

“What did you dream of being at this point in your life?”

At this point. I was staring down thirty. I had a shitty little apartment and a shitty little job and I’d yet to meet a man who made me feel anything but bored out of my mind. Well, until I’d met Black.

Yeah, when I was younger I’d pictured a very different life for myself, but it hadn’t worked out. So what? That didn’t make me special. Everyone I knew was in the same boat. Except for Black.

And then it dawned on me. Maybe he knew something the rest of us didn’t. Why, then, was I resisting him?

After steadying myself with a deep breath, I said, “I wanted to be a writer.”

“So become a writer. You don’t need a college degree for that.”

“Right. But it helps if you have some clue about things like allegory, foreshadowing, denouement.”

“Take some courses, join a critique group.”

At this I laughed. “Been there, done that.”

“And let me guess—someone trashed one of your stories and you gave up on writing altogether.”

“No.” I leapt to the defensive. “About thirty-seven rejection letters later, I gave up.”

Moving closer, he grazed his nose along the length of mine. I could smell the wine on his breath and the muskiness of his skin. Each exhalation caressed my cheek and I was dying to kiss him, though I knew I couldn’t. He wouldn’t allow me to bridge the gap between our mouths.

“And how do you know,” he murmured, “that the thirty-eighth letter wouldn’t be an acceptance?”

“I…” But I had nothing to say. He was right. I had no way of knowing what the future would bring, only that I hadn’t had the strength to pursue it.

He kissed me, slipping his tongue into my mouth, tangling his hand in my hair.

As we parted, he said, “Tomorrow you will spend the day writing.”

“Because you’re ordering me to?”

“Because it’s what you really want to do. I’ll make some calls, I have a friend who runs a crit group. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to join.”

Again he left me speechless. Why did everything messy and complicated look so simple through his eyes?

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you would be the appropriate response.”

“Right. Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“I have a few ideas.” He arched one eyebrow. “Let’s go back to the playroom.”

* * * * *

Since it was my first time being bound—by Black or anyone else—he said he wouldn’t bind me too tightly or use any complicated Kinbaku variations. I didn’t have a clue what Kinbaku was so I was grateful for the gradual introduction.

“Undress, but leave your heels on,” he instructed.

His unwavering stare flustered me. Granted, he’d seen my bare ass, knew what my pussy smelled and tasted like, he’d even been inside me, but he’d never seen me completely naked.

“Don’t be shy. If I have to ask again, I’ll do it with belt in hand.”

Though I knew the reference to a whipping was supposed to be a threat, part of me wanted him to hold me down, beat me and rip my clothes off. But we’d played that game already tonight and I was eager to try something new. Reining in my nerves, I stripped off my shirt then slid my skirt and panties to the floor. His gaze roamed over me. I could feel him assessing every inch. The same throbbing ache he’d left unresolved earlier beat a tattoo between my legs.

“Get on all fours.” He continued to stare at me.

Lowering myself to the floor, I shed my bra then assumed the position.

Once he’d selected a length of rope, he squatted before me.

“Down on your elbows, wrists together.”

As soon as I adjusted my pose, he wound rope around my wrists and elbows then crisscrossed it around my waist and between my legs. Black pushed my calves against my thighs, hooking the rope around my high heels. Once he’d finished, I was completely splayed apart and unable to move, my ass poised in the air. I didn’t know how long I could hold this position. Already my elbows, knees and back ached.

The clank of metal-on-metal behind me drew my attention, but I couldn’t crane my neck enough to see what he was doing. Then I heard a clipping sound and felt added support from the harness he’d created around my waist. He’d tethered me to the ceiling, taking some of the weight off my legs and arms.

How thoughtful of him. A half-smile formed on my lips. And just how long did he intend to keep me here?

“What a pretty pink pussy.” He patted my exposed labia. “So swollen and wet. I bet it wouldn’t take long to make you come.”

Swiping a finger between my folds, he massaged my clit. A wave of pleasure coursed through me. No, it wouldn’t take long, if only he’d let me. But he didn’t. He extracted his hand and set a kitchen timer next to me.

“We’re going to play a game.”

I felt lube sprinkling over my asshole and slit and then he pushed a dildo into my pussy. I gasped at the sensation of being suddenly filled. A nub of silicon pressed to my clit.

“Your goal is not to come. No matter how good it feels. Understand?”

“Yes.” I breathed the word, sure I’d fail in no time.

“First round, you have to hold out for one minute. Do you think you can do that?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“You will be punished if you don’t.” He smacked my ass hard, the heat from the blow spreading to my already engorged cunt. The spanking would only increase my need and he knew it.

The dildo sprang to life, vibrating me inside and out, my G-spot and clit stimulated at the same time. Pure pleasure racked me, the tension unbearable. He set the timer in front of me. Only a few seconds had passed. My inner walls clenched around the phallus. I panted, desperate to come and to avoid coming at the same time. But how in the world could I stop it? The vibrator felt so fucking good.

Slowing my breathing, I focused on the numbers ticking by. One second at a time, I chanted to myself, “I will not come.”

“Good girl.” He ran a hand over my ass. “That’s it, take control of your body.”

I flexed and released my leg muscles, I tried to think about a typical day at work, I stared at the numbers counting down in front of me. Anything to distract me from the pure pulse of ecstasy shaking me to the core.

Despite my best efforts, the throbbing between my legs intensified, tears slid down my cheeks and my clit burned, overstimulated and swollen. Still, I did not give in.

I moaned and writhed against the restraints, but somehow that last second clicked by, the bell sounded and Black shut off the vibrator.

“Very, very good, little Red.” He dropped to his knees, kissing and licking my bare ass.

Removing the vibrator, he slipped his cock inside me. Slowly, he slid from tip to base, in and out. One finger toying with my clit, he set a leisurely rhythm. My pussy constricted around his shaft. I was so desperate to come, I moaned and groaned and pushed into his every thrust.

“Please, Black. Please,” I begged him.

I felt as if I’d lost most of myself and all that was left was this throbbing, aching, swollen bundle of nerves. If he didn’t let me come soon…well, he just had to, didn’t he? Soon I’d have no choice, my body would let loose even if I didn’t want it to.

But I desperately wanted it to.

My legs trembled, my cunt bore down on his thick cock. Yes, I was at the threshold of orgasm.

And then he withdrew.

“No,” I cried. “No, you can’t leave me like this. Please.”

But my objections were futile. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t grab him and force him inside me. I couldn’t even finish myself off. The cool air of the playroom underscored the fact that I was empty, wet and unfulfilled.

Tears stung my eyes, but I didn’t want to cry. I wanted to come.

“You should see your cunt, little Red. It’s covered with your cream and so plump. I bet it’s aching.”

“It is because you won’t let me come.”

“That’s right. I won’t let you. Your orgasms belong to me now. Is that understood?”

“Yes.” I nodded, clenching my hands together as if praying for him to give me release. “My entire body is yours now, but please, please, please let me come.”

Instead of answering my pleas, he pushed the vibrator inside me again.

“Three minutes this time.”

“I can’t. If you turn it on, I’ll come. It’s that simple.”

His hand clenched my hair, yanking my head back. Searing pain gripped my scalp. “If you come, you will be punished.”

He held my gaze for a few seconds, then let go of my hair. Once he’d set the clock, the vibrator sprang to life again. There was no way I could hold out. I was too turned-on, too close to the edge. I gave up trying to resist and set about begging him in earnest.

“Please, Black. Tell me I can come. Tell me it’s okay. I don’t want to do it without your permission, but I’m going to. I can’t stop it.”

“You can and you will.” He spanked my ass, his hand slapping my buttocks over and over.