Story of Us trilogy 01: TouchStone for Play (41 page)

“Go and stand in the pool of light and
take off your clothes,” he commands.

Pardon me?

Ah … I see where he’s going with this, he
has us on replay. Only this time we’re going to do it right. I stride over to
my spot and start removing my boots. I throw them in his direction and, even
though his face is only a silhouette, I know he’s smiling.

Next I unbutton my blouse, recalling the
fun we have had with buttons. Now
I’m
smiling. I place it on the nearby
chair. My trousers slide to the floor and I’m left standing in my black
underwear, waiting for my next instruction. There’s the rustle of clothing and
I just make out his iPhone in front of his face. Realising he’s about to take a
photograph, I turn side on, buckle my knees and pull my hand to my mouth coyly.
A blinding flash illuminates the darkness and my modesty if forever
compromised.

“For my eyes only,” he states. “Come to
me.”

Slowly I approach him, feeling sexual
tension fizzing between us. When I reach him, his face is next to my breasts
and I want to pull him into me, to wrap my arms around him, to say I get it.
But I don’t.

He lifts his eyes to mine and I catch a
glimpse of melancholy behind those cloudy, cerulean spheres. It pains me to see
it.

“I made a terrible mistake before. You’re
much too delicate to be subjected to the glare of bright light and exposure.
I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

This is unexpected. I lift my hand and
brush back his hair, losing my fingers in his curls; he’s dressed quickly and
it’s wonderfully messy. My fingertips float across his cheek and I caress his
handsome silhouette in the darkness. I don’t need to see him to know his eyes
are closed and he’s falling into my embrace.  The heat is radiating from his
clothes. I want him.

“Don’t apologise, there’s no need.”

“I can’t keep fucking this up. It’s too
important.” Desperation oozes from every syllable.

“It is, but nothing’s changed.”

He bows his head in disgrace. “How long
can you keep saving me from myself?”

“Oh Ayden, I’m not. You’re the one who’s
saving me.” I search his face for signs of relief.

“There was a time when I thought that.
Thought I’d be your knight in shining armour, but I’m not. You’re a purifying
force Beth and, God knows I need purifying. I’m not a good man, in spite of you
believing otherwise. I’ve never been worthy of you. We are the sum of our deeds
and, for my sins, I amount to nothing compared to you.” He folds a wayward
strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ve been pushing you too hard, forcing you to
step out of your comfort zone.”

I won’t have that. “You’re wrong! There
was no comfort in
my
zone. Not until you came along,” I scoff, offering
wordplay as a kind of rebuttal. “Before you, I was a mess. I was cursed with
bad luck or bad karma or something. I couldn’t have imagined a life like this,
a life with someone like you. When we met and your lips touched mine it was as
if the curse was lifted, I was free, free to love, free to
be
loved, by
you.” I’m shaking my head, stressing the point, watching gratitude flicker in
sad eyes. “You’ve been very gentle with me, I know that Ayden, but now it’s
time …”

 Our eyes lock. A powerful connection
binds us to one another: it’s intense.

“You said you wanted to do things to me,
with me? What kind of things?” As hard as he tries, he cannot conceal a
startled look. That look will stay with me forever.

He turns away, unwilling to elaborate. “You’re
not ready to hear.”

Gently I cup his face, seeking out his
stare, witnessing the faint glimmer of something, maybe the embers of a glowing
fire. “Now you’re making assumption about vanilla being my favourite flavour
again. I don’t expect that from my naughty boy, not when I’m enjoying being
your very naughty girl.”

His eyes are alight with expectancy. “What
are you saying?”

I place my hands by my sides, signalling
my compliance. “I’m saying, stop pretending. Show me.”

“Are you sure, I want you to experience
everything
,
with me.”

“I’m sure. I trust you to take care of
me.” I feel his hands stroking mine, thumbs over knuckles a tightening grip.
“So what are you waiting for, permission?”

“Yes.”

I glance around the room. “Where do I
sign?”

“Right here.” He places my hand over his
heart and smiles triumphantly, and that’s ok. He’s showered me with the most
expensive gift of all, his love, and paid for this victory tenfold.

He stands abruptly and unfastens his belt.
Flatfooted, I glance up at him, trying to decipher his expression. It’s one
I’ve not seen before: potent and persuasive. To my surprise, he pulls the
leather belt out from his jeans and stretches it out in front of my face.

“Do you know what I want to do with this?”

I shake my head, wondering if it’s
something that will sting or leave a mark. That thought causes me to moan
unconsciously.

He picks up on my reaction and scrutinises
my face for clues. “You want this?” He asks, watching me purse my lips
together, preventing another moan from escaping. He tips his head to the right
and an infectious smile finds its way to his lips.

What a turn-on?

He places the belt around my neck and
pulls my mouth onto his, teasing me with his mischievous tongue. The sensation
of leather on my skin and his hot breath on my lips does something to me. I’m
not sure why.

Moving to my rear, he unclips my bra and
slides his hands underneath it, cupping me from behind, fondling, rolling my
nipples between his forefingers and thumbs until they are hard and erect.  The
straps slip and he lets them fall somewhere near my feet into a black puddle of
lace. His warm hands sweep my hair into a make-shift pony tail and hold me in
place. I let another gentle moan escape from my mouth.

“You want this?”

To make his point he pushes his erection
into my derriere; even through his jeans I feel the twitching mass of hard
muscle. Knowing he could fuck me at a moment’s notice excites me further. I
reach behind to pull him into me, wanting more.

His hands release my hair and splay across
my shoulders, wrap around my arms and come to rest at my hands. He’s looping
the belt around my wrists. “You want this?”

I do.

It’s like he has a sixth sense, we are so
connected; he can perceive my arousal. I’m an open book.

“Kneel down.”

I fall, slowly, resting my knees on the
plush carpet. I feel him straddling my body from behind; legs spread wide,
knees against my shoulders, I’m held fast. I like this, so much my heart is
racing but not as fast as my imagination.

He finds my ear and explains. “You’ve been
very naughty Beth, you’ve been teasing me and had me thinking about doing this
to you at the most inconvenient of times. I’ve jerked myself off more in the
last week than I’ve done in the last year, and I think I deserve some
recompense for my troubles, don’t you?”

“Yes.” That sensual thought makes me
smile.

“Yes,
Mr
Stone.” He says with his
breath steaming into my ear.

Now this is a game I
do
like. “Yes
Mr. Stone. What can I do for you ... Sir?” I say softly, surprising him with my
willingness to improvise.

“To begin with, you don’t have to call me
that.”

“You want me to, don’t you?”

There’s a weighty pause: he’s thinking.
“Yes.” That breathless word floats around my head like a satellite.

“Then I want to say it. What can I do for
you, Sir?”

“Baby, you can trust me, that’s all I ask.
Lean over the bed.”

With my hands tied, getting up is a
struggle. I feel him lifting, easing me onto the sheets, head first. He’s a
moving shadow, towering over me, enveloping me. I feel incredibly aroused and,
for some reason, relaxed at the same time. His clever idea to replay the scene
has worked: we have discovered a way to satisfy both our desires.

“Now we’re going to begin a game I
know
you’ll want to play.” The sound of the drawer opening causes my eyes to widen:
I know what’s in there.

He turns the device on. “You know what
this is?”

Of course I do, it’s mine.

“Yes.”

“I want to use it on you. I want you to
find your voice, and I want you to come calling my name. Do you want to play?”

“Yes. I want to play.”

“Good.” He whispers into my ear. “Me too.”

Under his skilful direction, the smooth
egg shaped toy vibrates against my shoulder blades and my spine, causing my
skin to tingle. He skates over my anus and inside my panties and I flex
involuntarily, willing him to continue. My breathing is ragged and whimpers are
leaking from my mouth. I want to straighten out my legs but I cannot. I want to
free my hands but I cannot. I push into his vibrating palm, trying to contain
the throbbing wave of heat building in my overheated core.

Fuck!

I bury my face into the bed to smother my
cries. The vibrating object touches the lips of my sex and I clinch and pull in
my stomach muscles, craving more. The intensity of the vibration causes
electrifying impulses to fire like static energy through my groin, making the
hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I rock into him, lift up my head and
open my mouth. “Oh.”

His other hand caresses my throbbing
cheeks, playing with the lace on my panties, sliding in his thumb and testing
the tension in the elastic around my thighs.

“You want this, but you know what I want …
to pleasure you like this but to get you off with words. It’s my voice that has
you creaming, isn’t it?”

How does he know that?

I have to set myself, to control my
breathing to answer. “Yes, it’s your voice.”

For a second he stops and I soon realise
why. He’s turned up the intensity of the vibrator and now it’s humming, making
my whole body sing. “Oh God.”

“That’s it.” Using skilled hands he
settles the soft toy against my clitoris and eases his thumb into me, bending
it slightly to stroke the front wall of my vagina, finding that illusive
G-spot.

Yes!

Inside I’m clenching and igniting; outside
I’m melting. My hair is sticking to my forehead, my mouth is dry from sucking
in too much air. The vibrations are beginning to spread outwards like ripples
on a pond: I’m flying, soaring to the edge of infinity.

“That’s more like it … find your voice.
Come for me.”

Just as he said they would, his words
spear their way to my core. In need of no further instruction I keen until the
loud, gasping cry of relief transposes into his name. “… Ay-den …”

I’m sagging into the sheets, boneless and
exhausted with barely enough energy to smile. The leather belt is holding my
hands fast behind my back, but both his
hands are free and the sound of
his zip being lowered excites me further; to the extent my body is quivering
with lust. I need him inside me, now.

But … I feel the sudden sting of his hand
on my bottom. He has spanked me! I cry out, not in pain but because the
sensation has left me feverish with need. I made him promise to do it and this
is what I get for teasing.

“Now I
know
you want this because
you made me promise to do it.” His words linger in the air like a prayer.

He spanks me again, hard, making me call
out.

“This is for the three occasions when you
have brought me to my knees, in your bedroom, in my car and in my fucking jet.”

A third and final slap has me gasping for
air. Behind me, fervent fingers are pulling down my panties; strong hands are
between my thighs, bending my legs at the knees, parting me. Leaning into me,
he utters the words he knows will tip me over.

“I’m going to take you now.”

His sweater lands on the nearby chair and
immediately I hear the sound of the condom packet being torn. Oh, how I have missed
that sound. He’s over me. I smell cologne and manliness mingling on his skin. I
feel the thickness of his erection against my bottom.

“It has been three days, eleven hours and
45 minutes since I fucked you and I don’t intend to ever wait that long again.”

With that, he takes hold of my hips and
nudges the tip of his rigid cock against my saturated folds and doesn’t stop
until he’s buried deep inside me. I utter a high pitched cry and feel a
delectable tightness as he thrusts, powering his way towards ejaculation.

At first his movements are controlled, but
thirty seconds in and he’s lunging and clawing at my skin, undulating his hips
to penetrate me further, pounding frantically on. Possessing me.

Enraptured he growls, “Feel me.”

I can, and it feels too good. Just when I
think he might tear me in two, a deep throated roar echoes around the room,
followed by uncontrollable hisses.