Page 69 of Plaything

Her pussy was squeezing my finger so hard I thought it might turn purple. I curled it faster, hitting that soft spot she seemed to love. “I want you to cum, Baby. Give me every last drop,” I ordered.

On command, she almost screamed out in ecstasy as she came. Her cum leaked out of her into my hand. I pulled my finger out of her and lapped at her hole.

I would never get tired or bored of her, not with her being so addicting. She was my drug and my art.

Her thighs shook beautifully, her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath. Her body was limp as I moved her to the side of the bed. She lay flat on her back, following my movements with tired eyes. “You weren’t supposed to untie yourself,” she panted.

I had to resist the urge to kiss her as she sprawled there like a work of art. Her hair was wild, laying in untamed waves against the pillows. Her bottom half was bare—and in desperate need of a cloth. I wanted to photograph her—to save this moment forever. I wanted her to see how flawless she looked when she let go.

I tilted my head, “I also wasn’t meant to see through the silk blindfold, but I did that too.”

Her eyes widened when she realized that I was watching her the entire time she was taking her joyride. She had nothing to be embarrassed about; in fact, she should’ve been proud. She gave me quite the performance.

Remembering her nakedness, she quickly crossed her legs, sat up, and draped her arms over her crotch. “You should go take a shower,” she rushed out.

I didn’t understand her need to cover herself. “I’ve seen you naked, Darling. That’s not necessary,” I informed as I stood. “Coming?” I questioned, gesturing to the bathroom.

She raised her eyebrows. “Huh? In there—with you?” I could see a million excuses flying through her worrisome mind. None of them would change the fact that I wanted to take care of her now, including getting both of us clean.

“Please.” The words felt strange as they left my lips, but I couldn’t think of anything else to portray my want. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” I prompted.

She looked confused as if she expected me to dismiss the fact that she was as much of a sticky mess as me. Vulnerability was written all over her expression and body language. She wasn’t used to being cared for by others, and it showed. “I can clean myself up,” she said slowly.

Trying to keep my voice lighthearted, I responded, “Yes, but I want to,” I promised. I’d be irritated if she didn’t accept my help. We were going to have to help her learn that we were here for more than just sex.

She still seemed unsure and confused, but she nodded and did not argue further, which I appreciated. “Okay.”

She stood up, her legs still slightly unstable. I grabbed her hand, noticing her start to fidget. I hated that she felt this way after what we did. She didn’t feel bad or regret anything, but she wasn’t giving any emotion away. I was worried that if she needed aftercare or something more from us after a scene, she wouldn’t ask. She’d deal with anything she was going through herself because she didn’t want to be a bother.

I hated that she thought this way and needed to break that thought right out of her head. She was safe with us; she didn’t have to take care of herself; that was what we were here for.

I turned the faucet to hot and turned to her. She looked cold in the freezing house, with goosebumps all over her skin. We only had a few minutes before that water turned as cold as ice, so I had to move quickly.

“Lift,” I spoke the order gently, touching her elbows. She averted her eyes quickly before she met mine again. Doing as I said, she lifted them into the air. I grabbed the flimsy top and lifted it over her head, leaving her completely bare.

I took her in for a moment, now getting to see all of her at once. Everything about her was perfect. From how her bone structure complimented her subtle curves to how her jet-black hair made her eyes shine, she was perfection.

“It’s going to get cold,” she muttered, breaking me out of my trance.

Unable to stop myself, I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into the shower with me. She giggled at my sudden action, clearly happy to be in the warm water.

With my hands around her waist, I pulled her body flush against mine. She peered up at me with wide eyes, as if she hadn’t just ridden my face. I kissed her, easing her mind a bit. I grabbed soap—realizing she wouldn’t smell like the luxury brands she must use to smell as good as she did all the time. I didn’t have any women’s products in here- hopefully, she’d be okay with smelling like a man for the night. I gathered the soap into my hands and began gently rubbing my hands over her body, taking special care not to touch any areas she’d be uncomfortable with.

“So, now that you’ve tied me up, how was your reward?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Apparently, I’m not very good at trying you up... or informed enough to know that silk is see-through,” she answered, cringing at herself.

“No, you’re not. If it makes you feel better, the bow was very cute.”

She smiled as the suds washed off of her body. The water quickly changed to cold, and she flinched, “I hate this water,” she deadpanned, moving to get out.

I smirked, washing myself up in record time. I was used to the changing water temperature. Cold showers were normal, and I’d grown accustomed to them over the years.

By the time we were both dried off and back in our clothes, she looked unsure again. She was lingering in the middle of the room, and I knew the exact thoughts going through her mind. “Let’s go to sleep,” I pulled back the sheets, gesturing for her to come in.

She looked relieved, “Are you sure? I don’t mind sleeping in my own bed—”

“Get in the bed, Odette.”

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