Page 67 of Please, Sir

I snatch the quirt from the bed and swat her hand, then drag the single tail up my shaft, teasing her. “Fuck,” I groan, seeing her lust for my cock. Again, I move the rough end of the leather over my erection teasingly, making my balls thrum. “My cock feels so good.”

“You’re so mean,” she pants, releasing my shoulders to tangle her hands in her hair, lifting it off her back. Up and down, she fucks my thigh as her tits bounce and her lips part, naughty words and promises filling the room.

“God, I want that inside me.”

“Your cock is so perfect, sir.”

“Stroke for me, sir, I’m a slut for it.”

Though I’ve teased myself for hours with some of my whips, and edged even longer the few times Jo Jo has been out of town, I’ve never come with such little touch. Yet, as Riley unravels on my thigh, coming in short, deep thrusts, I can’t hold back. The urge hits and it’s way too strong to deny.

I put each end of the quirt in her trembling hands as she comes, and move the handle to my cock, dragging it down, aiming the tip right at her tits. She takes over, using the handle of the quirt to stroke down my cock just once before I groan so loud, I think the walls shake.

“Fuck, Riley, Jesus Christ,” I ground out as my second orgasm in less than an hour hits me, pummeling through my cock like lava. She watches the slit as it opens, spraying my thick, white cum on her in rapid pulses. When I’m panting and spent, she drops the quirt and uses her hands to pump me yet, repurposing my cum as lube.

“Looks like you liked the thigh saddle as much as I did,” she says, swiping her finger through my cum, layered over her core like sunscreen. “I didn’t know that toy was a thing but god, that was hot. And you not letting me touch you just drove me wild.”

“Me too,” I admit, adding, “but watching you—damn, you’re so sexy—watching you writhe as you come, it was impossible for me to last.”

She and I get out of bed, sharing a towel as we clean up. After rifling through my drawers, I pick out a TURNERSADDLERY t-shirt and a pair of sweats that won’t even close to fit, but it’s all I have. I pass them to her and my chest tightens when she brings them to her nose, first smelling them as her eyes close. “God, Jake, you smell incredible. I think I’m gonna get all hot and bothered if I wear these.”

I tug down the sheets and comforter, exposing the insides of my bed. “Get hot and bothered in the morning. Right now, you need rest.”

She yawns, tugging the oversized shirt down over her head. “Thanks for inviting me over tonight. It’s been the most interesting first date ever. I mean, it’s not every first date that you get flogged and fucked, right?”

I smack her ass as she crawls over me. “Don’t forget the brisket.”

She snuggles next to me, her breath flanking my neck and chest. With a sigh, she grows sleepy, whispering, “and the brisket. So much good tonight. So much good.” And in less than a minute, we’re both asleep.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

Sleepingthrough the night with Jake would be the most comfortable, deep sleep I’ve ever gotten in my life. Better than sleeping at home with my parents in the safety of my childhood home, better than sleeping next to Michael, better than everything else, really.

But there wasn’t much sleep.

Waking up with a huge hard cock pointed at your spine isn’t exactly a lullaby. After taking a proud fourinches in my mouth in the middle of the night and swallowing his cum, Jake made me come with his fingers, then made me come again with his mouth. We finally dozed off only to wake not more than two hours later, another erection begging me to play.

And now we’re here.

Eight in the morning.

Completely naked.

And I’m tied up on the floor, just like last night, only this time, both my wristsandankles are bound.

What I haven’t said is that I was eager to do so much with him all in the span of fifteen glorious hours because I was afraid one night would all we’d have. Maybe on the drive over I worried about that.

But the chemistry we have, the way our bodies anticipate each other and work together—I know there will be more dates, more us, more this. It will be hard keeping it secret until we’re ready to share with Jo Jo, and I still feel an immense amount of guilt for not being transparent from the start, but I no longer worry I’ll have to memorize every moment of this night and morning to look back on forever. Jake Turner and I are going to make lots of memories together, I can feel it.

“I thought we’d sleep, but someone couldn’t keep their greedy hands to themselves,” he growls, the sudden snap of the quirt against my bare ass making my eyes roll into my head. How did I not know I loved pain and submission so much before? Maybe because Michael’s idea of dominance was just shouting. Not even in a sexual way, either. After a deep breath through my nose, my mouth bound by his leather gag, I bring my head up, my eyes meeting his. Mine are watery from the sting of the leather, but I keep minetrained on him, because all I want to do is meet his next command head on.

“Palms open,” he commands again, stalking around me, his foot falls rattling through my bones, strong and powerful. At some point he slipped into boxers, which, quite frankly, only made me want him even more. The heavy burden of his fully erect cock testing the weak cotton of those boxers in the form of the most impressive bulge ever? It’s no wonder I’m squirmy right now. I open my palms and keep my eyes on the bulge. “Does my hot little slut want a swat? Hmm? Does she need to remember that if she wants me, she waits patiently and she doesn’t assault me instead?”

I melt at his words, imagining a future where I wake up to him on my side, and legs spread, forcing that weapon of mass insemination inside of me as he cups his palm over my mouth, forcing me to come in silence. I nod, but I nod too late, and Jake whips my palm. Out of reaction, I close my hands, wincing and groaning into his leather gag, my eyes squeezing shut as I try to compartmentalize the pain.

“Ah, ah, ah. Open,” he says, trailing the quirt over my knuckles until I show him my palm.

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