Flesh: Part One Read online

  “Open your eyes.”

  I feel the top of my lingerie strain slightly from the pressure of the little bow keeping it together being tugged, though it's not pulling free yet. Hesitantly, I open one eye, and then the other. It's not until they're both open that I realize I'm cringing. His expression is full-blown amusement.

  “Relax,” he enunciates each syllable, and I feel my shoulders fall, more out of embarrassed defeat than the actual desire to obey.

  “I can't wait to see what's under this.” He twirls one of the ribbons around his index finger. For a moment, he pauses, his eyes fixed on mine. I can't tell if he's challenging me to stop him, or if he's actually just trying to give me a chance to back out.

  He starts to pull on the ribbon, ever so slowly. The room is so quiet that I can actually hear the bow pop when it comes undone. My chest rises and falls in nervous anticipation as gravity does its work helping the garment pull away from my body, though my perked nipples keep it from falling completely off.

  “Beautiful.” He licks his lips, his eyes moving from my face to my chest. I feel his fingers return to me, just the tops, tracing a path between my breasts and down my stomach. I close my eyes and moan softly. His hands are heavenly, sensual. So sensual. I absolutely love it.

  I clasp my fingers together over my head and allow myself to fall into the fantasy. I pretend that he's my lover, that everything feels right. His touch gets more intense, fingertips turning into hands, his hands wrapping around my waist and moving up my sides before stopping just below my breasts. Damn, his hands are big. I never realized it before.

  “Look at me,” he commands, and I open my eyes to find his filled with lust. The amusement that was there before is completely gone, and for the first time ever, I feel like we're truly in sync. I want him. He wants me. It's as simple as that. Simple and beautiful and perfect.

  His fingertips lazily rub the underswell of my breasts for a moment before his hands lift up and the fabric clinging to my nipples gives way. A shudder of pleasure courses down my body as the material silently snaps free and renders my breasts bare to him. As if to make sure I'm fully exposed, he takes the demi cups of my lingerie and pulls them completely aside so that they're resting on the bed. Then he grabs my breasts with both hands, my nipples slipping between his fingertips, and he squeezes and kneads them. Hard.

  A sharp cry of pleasure-pain leaves my lips, and I find myself intoxicated with this new roughness. As if all of my inhibitions have gone by the wayside from just this one intimate touch, I feel my back arch off the bed, my body pressing up to fill his hands even more. He growls in approval, leaning over me, and my breath hitches as I pray that his lips are finally going to meet mine.

  “That's it, beautiful girl, show me your passion,” he whispers into my ear, making my sex clench in response. Damn him for being so seductive. Damn him for teasing me like this.

  When he sits back up, his hands leave me, and I feel almost a physical ache from the lack of his touch. A pathetic, needy part of me wants to beg him to put his hands on me again, but that would be far too desperate. It's bad enough that he has me writhing beneath him, wanting more.

  He leans over to open the bedside table drawer. Again, I find my eyes watching his muscles. It's like he's carved out of stone. I can't even imagine how many hours he's had to put in at the gym to get a body like this. Probably everyday, when he's not modeling or pleasuring women.

  When he sits back up, I notice the blindfold in his hand. To be honest, I had half expected it to be a cheapie, one of the ones you put on but can still see underneath. This one is good though, wide and thick.

  “I'm going to put this on you, and you're not going to peek,” he tells me.

  I bite my bottom lip, not wanting to be blindfolded. Even though I marked it off on my list, now that I know how gorgeous he is, I don't want to go a second without seeing his delicious shirtless body. “I don't want to wear it,” I decide finally.

  He gives me an incredulous look, straightening himself and twirling the blindfold on his index finger like he's done it a million times before. How he can move so flawlessly and look so perfect absolutely blows my mind. It's even more of a reason why I don't want the blindfold.

  “Well, perhaps I would have considered keeping it off of you. But you didn't call me Sir. You're supposed to call me Sir after everything you say. It was in the rules, remember. Let's just consider this...a punishment of sorts.” He leans forward and starts placing the blindfold over my eyes.

  My mouth falls open in disbelief. A punishment? Really? This is supposed to be my scene. Then again, I suppose it could be worse. When I think of punishments, I typically imagine spankings and more painful things. Perhaps this will make the experience more authentic for me. With that thought, I decide to give in. Besides, this is what I originally wanted. I paid for it, might as well try it, even if I later regret not being able to look at him more.

  The world goes dark around me, and an uncomfortable feeling instantly forms in my chest. Doubt takes over. Not the same doubt I was experiencing earlier. This has nothing to do with being self-conscious. It all has to do with me not trusting him. Realizing that I just let a complete stranger put me in a very vulnerable position. If he wanted to, he could stab me to death, or strangle me, or murder me in some other horrific way.

  Stop it, Amy. This isn't a one man operation. There are a whole bunch of people involved in this business, people who have your information on file. People who know you're here. He couldn't murder you and get away with it.

  I just need to calm down. These are the more mild aspects of BDSM. My hands aren't bound very well. If he does anything that I don't like, I can just pull the blindfold off and hightail it out of here.

  I feel the backs of his fingers on my collarbone, and my breath catches in my throat. Even though I expected that he'd touch me, I wasn't quite ready for it, my mind so on overdrive from having lost one of my five senses. His fingers whisper down my chest, and my breathing picks up as they climb the swell of my breasts, teasing over my nipples before continuing on to my stomach. Just that little bit of stimulation has my core throbbing. I'm even more aware that his dick, though completely out of my reach behind slacks and whatever underwear he's wearing, is probably only a foot away from my pussy. Silently, my body yearns for him, yearns for more of his touch. Yearns for the teasing to end, for him to be inside of me. It can't happen though. That's not what this is about, and it's not what I truly want. It's just what my body is telling me I want, despite my good senses.

  The bed creaks beneath us as he moves. He caresses my face with the back of his hand, causing me to jerk back a little. Every touch is unexpected, but as soon as I realize what he's doing, I quickly calm.

  A warm breath washes over my cheek, and I catch the smell of mint before he plants a soft kiss on my jaw. I melt into the pillow beneath me, patiently awaiting the moment when his lips meet mine. They follow a slow path towards my mouth. He grips my chin firmly, holding me in place, possibly because I was starting to tilt my head towards him. I feel the tender touch of his lips on the corner of my mouth, and then he draws away.

  Grrr. Noooooo. I growl internally.

  “You're a tease,” I dare to say, then quickly follow it up with, “Sir,” so I don't incite anymore of his punishments.

  “Is that so?” Amusement is plain in his voice.

  “You make me think ahhh,” my sentence is cut off with a moan when he pinches and rolls my nipples, then leans forward to grind his cock between my legs. Even clothed, I can feel how hard his is. The lace of my panties rubs against my folds, causing friction to build. When he pulls away, my body almost instinctively bucks towards him, wanting to feel the heat of his sex again. He places a hand on my stomach and gently pushes me back down, making a tut tut sound with his tongue. “Someone is awfully wanton.”

  Briefly, I consider telling him to shut up, but that's not something you say to a Dom when you're tied down and blind—helpless. Instead, I sett
le beneath him, silently cursing him for being such a prick. Give and take. Hot and cold. He's a clit tease. And while it's the most amazing thing ever, I also kind of hate it. Hate that I can't have him, that he's not really mine.

  “What would you like first, my mouth on yours, or my mouth on these?” He tugs my nipples, causing me to gasp.

  “Kiss me,” I say without even thinking. It sounds so desperate and raw and not even me, but it's what I really want. It's what I've wanted ever since I first laid eyes on his gorgeous lips. Even with the blindfold on, I can remember them. His top lip is thin, but his bottom lip is full. Not disproportionately so. Just perfectly kissable.

  “Is that what you want?” I feel his breath on top of my mouth, and my head lifts to seek him out. “No.” He puts his palm on my chest, pushing me back down. “You have to be a good girl. Can you be a good girl for me?”

  “Mhm.” I nod, relaxing the best I can when I'm so wound up. My tongue swipes across my bottom lip, wetting it in anticipation. It looks like the saliva has returned. I think I felt a gush of it when he was grinding between my legs, when I thought about how hungry I actually am for sex. It's been so long. Years.

  I don't want to think about that right now though. All I want is a kiss. Just one kiss.

  I can almost feel his lips hovering over mine. At least, I imagine that they are. In the darkness, every warm draft of air could be his breath. It feels like I can feel him, but I know I really can't. The anticipation is almost maddening.

  And then it happens.

  His mouth falls over mine, and I moan into the space between us as every pleasure sensor in my entire body goes off at once. His lips are soft, yet firm at the same time. He fists his hand into my hair, holding my head in place as he kisses and nibbles and consumes. I close my eyes and allow myself to feel everything, his warm breath soothing my skin, the roughness of his tongue as it pushes through the seam of my lips to dance with mine, the way he tastes like mint and deliciousness. It's one of the best kisses I've ever had, and I can't even see his face. I can't help but wonder how much better it would be if I could. Can't help but wonder if his eyes are opened or closed, those insanely gorgeous blue eyes that I could stare into for days.

  His body presses into me again. I feel the thickness of his cock as he grinds between my legs, the perfect outline of his shaft. While I'm not sure if I'm imagining it or not, I can almost swear that I feel his dick twitching, which must mean that he's pretty turned on. I know that I am. Everything in me wants to push back against him, wants to take more, to feel more, but I know that if I do, he'll just deny me, so I allow him to lead, savoring the feel of his mouth on top of mine, of his sex between my thighs.

  His hand reaches up to cup one of my breasts, adding to the overall stimulation as he pinches the tiny bead between his fingers and then tugs and kneads over and over again until I'm panting against his mouth. He kisses my chin, down my neck, pausing for a moment to lick across my collarbone. My chest heaves as his lips reach the swell of my breasts. He takes his hand away and begins working on the other breast, giving it the same treatment. All the while, his lips continue their descent until I feel his breath just above my nipple.

  “You have the most perfect tits,” he tells me before I feel wetness encircle my nipple. He groans around the bud, pinching it with his teeth, driving me absolutely insane.

  “Oh my God,” I breath, falling into euphoric bliss from all the blind sensations. My hips buck up into him, and I leverage myself on the bed the best I can to slide my underwear up and over his dick, not caring how embarrassing what I'm doing is. I want him. I want him more than I've ever wanted a man. I'm more turned on than I've ever been in my entire life. And the thought that I can't have him feels like it might destroy me.

  He doesn't reprimand me, and he doesn't stop. Instead, he pushes back, his cock so rigid that I worry it might break through his pants, tear through my underwear, and plunge inside of me. How I wish it was capable of that. How I wish we could both just give in.

  His breathing becomes ragged, and I can sense that he's starting to lose control. All this time, he's been perfectly poised, his breathing steady, his movements seemingly planned. There's a crack in his impeccable exterior though. His hands are getting rough, groping with fervor. The bites of pain are becoming more frequent. He kisses a sloppy path from one breast to the other, drawing my nipple into his mouth and causing me to cry out as he sucks a little too hard. I never knew that pain could feel this good, and that somehow makes me feel both empowered and frightened.

  The friction is building between my legs, and every touch of his lips and his hands only stimulates me more. He's rubbing me so hard, sucking until the sensitive nerves in my nipples are throbbing. I can feel my heartbeat between my legs.

  And then my body just gives in.

  An orgasm rips through me the likes of which I've never experienced before. Even though I'm blindfolded, I see a myriad of colors as my clit pulses with release, my sex clenching around nothing. I cry out, and every muscle in my body relaxes all at once. It feels like I'm falling. Falling and falling into a space where everything is perfect.

  “Oh shit,” he curses, and I feel him suddenly withdraw from me completely. His hands, his mouth, his cock. All gone. The bed creaks as he shifts his weight, and all I hear is his heavy breathing.

  For several moments, there's nothing. As my body calms from the incredible climax that I just had, I realize that everything has stopped.

  “Are you alright?” I ask, concern quickly building up inside of me as I wonder if I did something wrong.

  “Yeah,” he replies, his voice oddly flat.

  His breathing is still a bit erratic, but it's starting to return to normal. Briefly, I think about asking him if he came, but I refrain. Of course, he didn't. He's used to doing this stuff with girls. Besides, he's still wearing pants.

  The room is silent for a few more minutes before I finally feel his hand on me again. I jump slightly as his fingertips touch the seam of my sex through my underwear. Reflexively, I try to close my legs, not wanting him to see the wetness there, but he keeps them opened with his thighs.

  “Don't fight it. You're so beautiful. So wet down here.”

  “I just came,” I grumble.

  “Sir. I just came, Sir.” He threads his finger through the crotch of my underwear and snaps it.

  I refuse to give him the pleasure of hearing me repeat his words, so I just lay there, waiting for his next move. For a while, he simply rubs the back of his fingers gently over my moistened pussy lips. It's teasing, but nothing unbearable. Not after the amazing orgasm I just had.

  The bed creaks beneath us when he shifts his weight, and then I hear the sliding of the bedside table drawer. My heart pounds in my chest as I wonder what he's going to do to me now. Inside though, I know. It's the only other thing I checked off on my list.

  A familiar high pitched buzzing sound fills the room.

  “Do you know what this is?” he asks.

  I do know. It's some type of sex toy. I wish I could see it. Wish I could see how thick it is. What kind it is. I marked off dildo play on the list, but that's not a one-size-fits-all answer. It could be huge. And to be honest, I'm not exactly sure what he plans to do with it.

  “Don't worry, it's brand new,” he tells me.

  I hadn't thought to worry about that, but now that he's mentioned it, I feel relieved. “Can I see it, Sir?”

  “No.”

  The buzzing stops, and the bed shifts again. I feel his fingers slip beneath the waistband of my panties, and he moves back to pull them down and off. A blush covers my cheeks as I realize that I'm practically completely naked on the bed before him. Everything up to this point has been very intimate, but this adds a new layer to things.

  “Spread your legs for me.”

  I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to feel so exposed. When I don't move immediately, he grabs my thighs and begins to spread them. A pathetic cry leaves my lips as I draw m
y hands down to cover my face, feeling the soft brush of his tie against my nose.

  “Hands above you head,” his voice takes a stern turn, demanding my obedience.

  I raise my hands up again, shuddering as I feel the cool air in the room playing against my heated core. He can see all of me now, see how ripe with desire I am for him. It feels like I'm dripping, but I'm never as wet as I think I am. Still, it's embarrassing imagining it.

  “Mmm. You've got a beautiful pussy.” His finger makes a swiping pass between my lips, and then I hear a wet sound. “You taste amazing.”

  My cheeks light up as I realize he's sucking my juices off of his finger. There's an aching between my legs to have him there. Any part of him. His mouth, his fingers, his cock. God how I want his cock inside of me, to feel it stretch me. I'll just have to pretend though. Pretend that the dildo is him.

  “Do you want me to touch you down here?” He presses the pad of his index finger against my clit, causing it to pulse with approval.

  “Yes, Sir,” I breathe shamelessly before biting my bottom lip.

  “Fucking hell, you're so hot. Do you realize that you almost made me nut on myself?” His thumb circles my cleft, too delicately. He's teasing me again, going to make me writhe, make me want to beg like before.

  “So that's what happened?” There's a smile in my voice. I know I'm challenging him, but I don't care. Part of me wonders what other punishments are up his sleeve.

  His thumb presses hard against me, rotating, drawing friction and pleasure up from my depths. Then it slows. I expect him to respond, but he doesn't. Instead, he just rubs me. Slowly. Tortuously.

  Eventually, I start moving my hips along with his strokes, trying to garner more friction from his hand. This seems to displease him, because he pulls away completely, leaving me wanting more.