Page 4 of Shared Spaces

“N-nothing,” she replies, turning her head away from me to try and hide her devious smirk.

“You’re not very good at lying, princess.” I taunt, slowly making my way over to where she sits on the couch.

“M-maybe I’m not lying—”

“Try again,” I whisper, reaching down to gently grab a handful of her hair.

Her hair is one of my favorite things about her. She takes such good care of it and almost never wears it up. It’s naturally wavy, and I don’t think she’s ever added any color to it.

“Jay, I can’t tell you.”

I grip her hair even tighter to pull her head back so she has no choice but to look at me.

What I would give to cum all over that gorgeous face.

“Sure you can. Use your words, Gwen,” I say, pulling upwards so she’s forced to stand to her feet.

“Ouch—Jay!” She exclaims, making my cock even harder.

“You and I both know how much I enjoy making you cum—and I have nothing else to do for the rest of the evening,” I tease, pushing her closer to the coffee table.

The dress she has on leaves nothing to the imagination; though I know what every inch of her looks like anyway.

“Turn around and bend over for me.”

I pull the blindfold out of my pocket and bring it out in front of her face, placing it against her eyes gently then tying the silk ribbon in the back into a perfect bow.

The smooth black material looks exquisite against her golden blonde hair.

She’s so fucking breathtaking.

“W-what are you d-doing?” She moans.

I don’t answer her and guide the straps of her dress down her shoulders.

Once I’m done with her, she’ll know not to hide things from me.

3

Gwen

This is so unlike him.

He’s never really been the ‘rough’ type, but lately, he’s been—primal. Controlling even; but not in the toxic way.

If this is about the birthday party I have planned for him, he’s going a little overboard.

I’ve never actually witnessed the feral energy he had in his eyes when he told me to bend over the coffee table. I obeyed of course, because I constantly crave his praise.

Also, it’s super weird being blindfolded.

The lace material makes my eyelashes itch if I try to open my eyes, so I’m keeping them closed.

“So—about those plans, Gwen,” he moans, tracing his finger lightly down my spine.

“I guess that depends on how bad you want me to tell you…”

He starts to toy with one of my hardened nipples, the sensation sending a painful pulse straight to my clit.

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