Page 52 of Temptation at Randy's

“Did we have a safe word?”

The other day, we didn’t talk about safe words. After my research, I’d worried about it, and I texted them. They hadn’t answered for hours because they’d been shadowing another coworker or something for a meeting that never ended, which had been incredibly nerve-wracking. But then they’d said that we could talk safe words if we ever started playing heavier, but just asking to stop would be enough.

I agreed with them.

Yet…

Something about the way my brain was drowning in everything Claude felt like we’d hit that heavier play. I didn’t dare to say whether or not it was subspace, but it was definitely new and unexplored, and overwhelming in a titivating way.

“Red, yellow, green?” Claude suggested.

Maybe they also felt the turn I’d taken.

“Yeah.”

That was easy. I’d read about it, too.

“Good girl,” Claude drawled out the words. Their fingers teased my tits, circling and squeezing my nipples as they trailed there. I dug my heels into the mattress as my neck arched. “Breathe for me.”

It was hard, even before they’d done anything. I still pulled air in, though, still focused on their words even when there was too much to focus on as it was.

The silicone ends wrapped around my nipples soon after.

“I’m not going to tighten them too much this time.” Claude hovered over me, lips ghosting over my skin. “But just keep in mind, taking them off is gonna feel at least ten times more intense than what I do to you now.”

My mouth dried up. Claude’s words should have instilled fear, but they just made me hornier. Needier.

I watched, transfixed, as they tinkered with the tiny wheel on each side. The pressure was there, but it was not what I was expecting. It felt like having my nipples squeezed by my fingers. It was nice.

Then again, their words were playing on loop in my head. At least ten times more intense. Trepidation filled me as I found myself unable to look away. The tiny nubs pounded against the tight hold.

“How does it feel?”

I grunted. “Good.”

I couldn’t give them more than a one-word answer. It was a good thing they didn’t seem to be looking for more than that.

“I’m glad,” they teased. “Can you take your finger out of that needy hole of yours?”

“Why?” Did I whine? Maybe.

I didn’t know what to focus on, or why I should do it.

“Because you wanted me to suck you, and I’m not sure you can handle three things at once, gorgeous.”

I panted.

I wanted to protest, but Claude was probably right. “I want to.”

“I know,” they said. Their tone was soothing. It had the same effect as the back of their fingers trailing down my side. “We can talk about training you for it another day.”

Shit.

“Don’t say that,” I pleaded.

I wanted to last. Picturing those scenarios did not help stave off the building pleasure.

Their laughter didn’t help, either.

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