On the Rocks Page 9

  The bra off, I tossed it to the floor. Then I moved my fingers to the side of my panties and pulled them down—again, taking long moments for what could have been done in two seconds. I felt the wetness in my panties as I pulled them down my thighs. This little act of taking my clothes off in front of an admiring audience—a guy who was used to being watched by millions of people—had had a hell of an effect on my arousal.

  “Very nice.” I smiled but said nothing. He paused his hand movements. “I’m trying to decide what to do with you.”

  “How about you get over here and fuck me?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Oh, I will fuck you, you naughty girl, and I’ll fuck you hard. But first we have the punishment.”

  Really? What was all this talk of punishment and spanking? This was starting to get old…but I still kept my mouth sealed. I was starting to feel a little vulnerable, though, standing there all naked in the middle of his room, an object of his adoration—or scrutiny. But he stood up and yanked his pants the rest of the way down. Holy hell, that cock. I’d never seen anything that size in real life—it was a wonder this guy wasn’t doing porn. Jesus.

  As he approached me, I said, “I thought you liked that I was naughty.”

  “Oh, I do. Especially since it means you need to be punished.”

  I let half a chuckle slip. I couldn’t help it. “I don’t think so.”

  He got super close and, in everyday life, it would have been uncomfortable, but at this moment it sent a chill up my spine. His cock was pushing against my abdomen as he brought his face close to mine. And then he whispered in my ear. “But you’ll love it. I promise.” He trailed his fingers down my back until they reached my ass, and then he cupped a cheek, squeezing it almost painfully. Nipping on my earlobe, he asked, “Don’t you want to find out?”

  Okay, I was intrigued…but, more than that, the effect of his hand, his cock, and his lips on me made me wet all over again, and I couldn’t think straight. I really did need a good fucking.

  What can I say? It had been a while.

  He pulled his head back so he could look in my eyes. My chest was already heaving ever so slightly in anticipation. “Okay.”

  “Atta girl.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “But first, we need a safe word.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “A safe word?” My mind started racing once more. “Isn’t that for serious bondage shit?”

  He gave me a look like I was a stupid little girl which, I guess, in some aspects, I was. But then he said, ever calmly and overly patiently, “If you want me to stop doing something, I need to know.”

  “And I can’t just say ‘stop’?”

  “Well, you can…but sometimes that’s part of the whole roleplay.”

  I got the feeling then that he was ready to toss in the towel. I was too confused, too stupid, and asking way too many questions. And, really, I was. If I just wanted to fuck as I’d claimed, then I needed to get on with it. And roleplay…that sounded intriguing as well. God, I so had to expand my horizons. So I said, “All right.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Well?”

  “Oh, yeah…um…how about…” I rattled around in my head, trying to think of a band that wasn’t well known and one whose name I wouldn’t feel compelled to blurt out in the middle of sex spontaneously, just because I felt so moved. Well, I likely wouldn’t start screaming any band name, but I wound up choosing Lääz Rockit just to be safe.

  Yeah, I know. I have no idea where it came from, but there it was. And he gave me a look too, but he said, “Okay. Whatever works for you.” He patted one of his bare thighs and said, “Assume the position.”

  I grinned again, forcing myself not to laugh. He sounded so damn serious. But then I drew in a deep breath. I had to have an open mind. Different strokes for different folks, right? As long as I got off later too, I should help him out…and his cock was barely aroused now. I needed to help him with that.

  I’d never been spanked before—not by my parents or anyone else, so it was a strange concept for me. Sure, I’d been swatted on the ass once or twice, but that wasn’t the same. So bending over and resting myself over his lap felt weird—almost out of balance (that was probably also the wine talking), but he adjusted slightly as I positioned myself over his lap, belly down. I was getting ready to say something sarcastic, but he was rubbing my butt cheeks. It was soft and soothing and a little erotic—like he was getting ready to give me all all-over body rub. Yeah, I could go for that, especially if he used his tongue on occasion. And then he slid his fingers in between my thighs. “I love how wet you are for me.”

  I hoped he’d make me wetter, and I almost said that, but in less than five seconds, his finger was gone and he was bringing his open palm down on my ass with full force.

  I could hear it.

  And it burned. “Holy shit. What the fuck? That hurts!” That was not erotic.

  He was rubbing my cheek where he’d smacked it. “It’s supposed to hurt. It’s not punishment if it doesn’t.” I squirmed a little bit, ready to sit up, when he said, “If you keep sassing, I’ll have to punish you more.”

  More? No, thanks.

  Maybe it was the wine, but I decided to keep my mouth shut. He brought his hand back down again and the flesh stung, almost like he’d set fire to it. “Fuck!”

  “You just earned another one,” he said, swatting me again before I could catch my breath.

  My ass was now officially on fire…and I was pissed. I don’t know what I’d been thinking—like maybe he was just going to give me a playful swat or two on my cheeks, but the reality was more like he was taking out the wrath of God on my hind end. And I didn’t like it. But he held me down and smacked me again, even though I was squirming, trying to get lose.

  I started cursing like a sailor and demanding he cease and desist right this moment or I was going to kick his ass…and then I remembered the stupid ass motherfucking safe word. “Lääz Rockit. Lääz Rockit!”

  I’ll give him credit. He stopped immediately—there was no hesitation. His hands were on my body—one pressed into a cheek, the other holding my upper body as still as possible (which was difficult, I’m sure). I started to stand up, though, and he wouldn’t let me. Before I could utter another word, he said, “Hold still, Kyle. You can’t just get up after that.”

  “Like hell I can’t.”

  “No, you don’t understand. There is the matter of aftercare.”

  “Aftercare?”

  “Yes. Just…trust me.”

  I writhed again, trying to get loose. “Why should I trust you?”

  “Haven’t I been honest with you thus far?”

  I tried to think, but my ass stung and I couldn’t focus past it. I’d wanted to get my rocks off and instead engaged in anything but a good time—for me, that was. I could feel his stiff cock beneath me. But I thought maybe that was true, that he had tried to tell me what was coming but I’d been too self-absorbed to pick up on his clues. I didn’t know. There was no concentrating right now. I’d need another glass of wine or two for that. “I guess.”

  His voice was soft. “Then trust me.” He loosened his grip on me and helped me stand. Then he led me to the head of the bed and asked me to lie down—on my stomach.

  “No fuckin’ way.”

  He raised an eyebrow. I could see in his eyes that he was frustrated beyond belief with me. If he’d really wanted some submissive little girl, he wasn’t getting it with me, and I wasn’t going to apologize. That was not the person I was, and I couldn’t pretend to be, either. I didn’t have it in me, and after that ass whooping, he needed to consider himself lucky that I wasn’t taking a fist to his jaw. He sighed and grabbed a jar out of the nightstand next to the bed. “Then please just turn around.” I must have had a stubborn, defiant look on my face. “Please.”

  It was then that I, for some strange reason, trusted him. Maybe he seemed sincere or apologetic at that moment. So I turned around, not sure what the jar was or what to expect. A few seconds la
ter, though, I realized that he was rubbing some kind of balm into my fiery skin, soothing the flames a bit. Unfortunately, it didn’t feel erotic at all.

  As he continued massaging, softening my resolve, he said, “I have to apologize, Kyle. I had you pegged completely wrong.”

  I was thinking, Got that right.

  I wanted to say something but I was still smarting—and I didn’t trust myself to not say something I wouldn’t regret later. When he put the jar away, he said, “Maybe we need to try a different approach.”

  I turned around. “My ass is off limits.”

  He smiled. “That’s fine…but would your pussy like my attention?”

  Now he was talking. I grinned…hell, I probably looked desperate and ravenous, but just the thought helped pull my mind away from my throbbing butt cheeks. I nodded and tilted my head, ready to kiss him and put the ass whooping behind me.

  He pursed his lips and shook his head, and I felt a little ire building up in my gut. I was beginning to feel like I was being toyed with…and I didn’t like it. Before I could even demand to know what the hell he was doing, he said, “First things first.” He reached down between us and wrapped his hand around that meaty cock of his.

  I raised an eyebrow. Okay, so he wanted me to suck on his dick first. I considered it. My mind was racing, wondering if I’d gag on it because of its size. And, after taking out the rage of the world on my ass, did he even deserve it?

  He started swirling a finger around my nipple, making my thoughts dissolve into a puddle of nothingness. Yeah, okay, I could take care of him first. I smirked and gave a nod of my head before dropping to my knees.

  He pinched my nipple before that.

  I refrained from yelling. I didn’t mind rough, but this guy was on a whole different level. I tried to make sure I wasn’t scowling and then kneeled. I tried not to rest my hot, sore ass cheeks on my heels as I came eye to eye with the beast between John’s legs. I licked it first while wrapping my right hand around the base, my tongue lapping up the pre-cum as though it were chocolate syrup dripping off an ice cream cone. I heard him let out a satisfied sigh as he said, “That’s my girl.”

  I tried not to think about if he said that to all the women who’d assumed this position.

  It took some getting used to, but after a little bit, I’d managed to adjust my mouth to his girth and was drawing him in and out. The veins were pronounced and his whole shaft was tight, ready to explode, but I couldn’t fully appreciate the details. I could feel him throbbing and I felt some relief, knowing he was close. I didn’t mind giving the occasional blowjob, but this guy’s cock was a bit much for my mouth.

  What if he dislocated my jaw?

  But I tried to stop thinking of everything negative and focus on the act itself, the fact that I was giving pleasure to someone who planned on returning it soon, and I was starting to feel a little hot.

  His hands had been wrapped in my hair, but now he gripped it hard, as though my locks were reins, and, before I knew it, he was once again controlling the show. Soon, he was fucking my throat like he would my pussy, and I was fighting the urge to gag and puke. I learned a very important lesson then, and it’s that you can’t say a fucking safe word when you’re being mouth fucked against your will.

  And biting him wasn’t an option. My mouth was spread far too wide. I was helpless. Hell, I was fighting so hard to focus on breathing that I wasn’t even beating against him or pulling or scratching. I was just hanging on for dear life.

  But he paused with his cock all the way in and said, “Want to swallow or want me to spray it on your face?”

  What? I was a fucking porn star now?

  I was getting ready to try to extricate myself, but that wasn’t happening, and whatever I moaned against his cock or whatever my eyes seemed to tell him, he thought I wanted him to come in my mouth.

  Needless to say, when he shot his load, there was no say in the matter as to where all his cum was going—it was straight down my throat with barely a swallow.

  When he released me, I was no longer aroused.

  I was pissed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “GOD, KYLE, THAT beautiful mouth of yours did me such a service tonight. I am going to make you feel like a goddess.”

  I stood up, furious, ready to read him the riot act, but he pulled me close and kissed me hard, his semi-soft cock still making its presence known in the gap between us.

  When his mouth released me, he said, “You taste like me. You’re delicious.”

  Had he really said that? Before I could even try to stop myself from rolling my eyes, his hands were cupping my breasts, followed by his fingertips drawing lines toward my nipples before touching the swollen tips, where he began a gentle twisting motion, freezing me in my tracks.

  He consumed my mouth once more, distracting me for a moment until I realized he was squeezing my nipples in his fingers again until they hurt.

  “Ow!”

  He started brushing my breasts with feather-like touches again, sucking on my lower lip and ignoring my cry of pain. If what he was doing right now hadn’t felt so good, I would have shoved him away.

  And his cock was hardening once more. That freaked me out, because most guys would have needed lots more time to get ready again. He paused in feathering my nipples and I thought he was going to pinch them again. Instead, he moved up to my neck and wound his fingers in the hair at the back of my head and then forced my head to tilt and look up slightly. It was just like when he was holding my head so he could fuck the shit out of my throat—he had ultimate control. I was starting to understand that he liked having that power over me. Before I could say a word, he breathed, “Do you want me to take you from behind?”

  I was torn. Part of me just wanted him to take me no matter what—so I could get it over with. I loved rough fucking, but he took the shit to a whole new level…where it almost bordered on abuse. The other half of me was not only aroused but aching for release, way past the point of no return, and I’d gladly take him however he offered himself. So I said, “Yeah.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, an expression I was beginning to grow tired of, and said, “No. That won’t do.”

  More games? “What won’t do?”

  He smirked, but there was no amusement in his eyes. “I want you to beg me for it.”

  Jesus Christ. Wasn’t my sense of desperation close enough? “What do you mean beg?”

  “Beg. Tell me how bad you want me.”

  I forced myself to not sigh. “Fuck me.” Okay…so it didn’t quite sound sincere. Part of it was frustration.

  “Do you want me to fuck you?”

  “Yes. God, yes. I want you to fuck me now.”

  “That’s good enough.” He grabbed me and, faster than I could register, he twirled me around and marched me the few feet to his chair. He was forceful but not hurting me like he had earlier, and he bent me over so my ass was out.

  Yes, my cheeks still hurt.

  So when he started rubbing my ass, I tensed up, expecting a follow-up slap or two, and I decided right then and there that if he did, I was going to turn around and deck him in the jaw with everything I had. I was done playing. Instead, he slid his finger down my crack and I again expected him to invade me. He paused on my asshole. Dude, you don’t enter there without permission. He slid down further, though, and didn’t stop again until he was rubbing my clit. “You seem tense…but I’m pleased to find you’re still wet for me.”

  It was probably a miracle—and I wasn’t surprised my doors were trying to lock down. He bit on my shoulder while his finger circled my clit and then he drove that massive cock inside me without another word. I gasped, surprised he’d been able to slide in with relative ease. He’d removed his finger, though, and was focusing on keeping his cock inside me, and I could have kicked myself. We weren’t using a condom, and I hadn’t thought once about it after all that shit. He’d distracted me into forgetting the most important part of the entire evening, but it was t
oo late now.

  He moved his hands to my front now, and one played with my left breast, alternating between petal-soft strokes and tiny pinches. My nipple seemed to grow a little numb to the abuse, and I was grateful for that. He wasn’t doing anything rough with my clit, though, just swirling his finger over it, bringing me to the edge—finally. If I’d ever earned a killer orgasm, this was it.

  I noticed I was grinding myself into his cock and against his finger as my breathing became ragged and desperate. I moaned in anticipation and adjusted myself in preparation, and that was when he bit my ear lobe and said, “Do not come until I tell you it’s okay.”

  That put a damper on the proceedings. “What?”

  “You need to ask for my permission to come.”

  I wasn’t grinding anymore, but I was still teetering on the edge, in spite of the fact that this guy was trying to ruin what little fun I’d had this evening. “You fucking kidding me?”

  “No. You’re not allowed to come until I say.”

  I tried to pull away again, but the guy was so fucking strong and I was pinned up against that goddamned chair. “If you don’t want me to come, asshole, stop fucking me.” And then, in spite of myself and all the frustration I’d felt, a tiny, spiteful orgasm electrified my body and made me quiver. I could feel him letting go too.

  But that jackass didn’t deserve to climax again.

  As my mind cleared, I thought to myself that I knew now why the guy was single. No woman in her right mind would put up with his bullshit.

  I used his limp dick and momentary lack of control to my advantage and extricated myself from the situation. I walked over to the end of the bed as he said, “Now I have to punish you for coming before I said you could.”

  “Ain’t gonna happen, bud. We’re done. D-O-N-E. Done.”