Page 16 of H Is for Hardcore

Her voice trailed off, and she stopped moving. I could feel her body tense, and not in a good way.

“But?” I put my arm around her.

“But at the same time it’s scary,” she admitted. “Not the giving-up-control part. I trust you, and I think that could be a lot of fun. But I’ve never actually been tied up, and...what if I freak?”

“Is this something like your thing with planes?”

She muttered an almost inaudible “Yeah.” It wasn’t exactly fear of flying that kept Emily on the ground; it was the feeling she was trapped on the plane. If someone had issued her a parachute and told her she could jump out any time, though, I think she’d have been fine.

“So you wanted to feel controlled—but not necessarily confined?”

She nodded eagerly.

Worked for me. Sexy as the bands of leather looked against the model’s skin, and fun as it might be to tie Emily up in some theoretical world where she wasn’t claustrophobic, what I really found arousing was the idea of a woman voluntarily open and helpless to my whim, with or without bondage. And that gave me an idea.

But then Emily turned in my lap until she was straddling me, rocked forward, pulled her shirt off...and somehow we didn’t get around to trying my idea that afternoon, but we did test the limits of that particular chair in some interesting ways.

I think she thought I’d forgotten the conversation. But I hadn’t.

I just let it go for a few days until I got everything worked out in my mind, and picked up a few props.

Tonight, as we headed to the bedroom, I told her, generally, what I had in mind, and I had the pleasure of watching her eyes get wide and kind of glazed with anticipation.

Sweet.

Once we got naked, I asked Emily—no, told her—to lie on her back on the bed. She grinned dreamily as she lay down.

Out of my bag of tricks I first pulled a pair of black-leather cuffs. They weren’t bondage cuffs, just plain bands with studs like a rocker would wear onstage. I made sure she could see that there was no way to attach them to anything before I buckled them around her wrists.

“My God, you look sexy,” I said. “The dark leather against your pale skin. I wish I’d found bigger ones for your ankles.”

She lifted her hands and turned her wrists back and forth, admiring the cuffs.

“I didn’t say you could do that,” I told her. I kept a little teasing note in my voice, figuring we’d lead up to things slowly.

I arranged her like the model in the picture, legs spread wide, a pillow under her ass so her pussy was even more exposed, hands on her thighs.

It was difficult to go slow when she looked so damn hot.

“Don’t move,” I told her. “The game tonight is you hold still until I say it’s okay to move.”

She disobeyed immediately with a little squirmy shiver. It was cute and made her breasts jiggle enticingly, but I still shook my head and said, “Bad girl. Just for that, I won’t touch you yet.”

Instead, I posed at the foot of the bed, took my cock in my own hand, and began to stroke. I was already hard, just from looking at her, from how she allowed me to pose her on the bed, from how she obeyed me now, unmoving except for breathing heavily as she fixed her gaze on my hand.

I thumbed the slick moisture from the tip of my cock and held it to her lips. She started to stick her tongue out, then stopped, remembering.

“Good girl,” I said. “You may taste now.”

I slipped my finger between her lips. She sucked eagerly, and I felt the sensation all the way down to my cock.

As tempting as it was to encourage her to suck my cock, I resisted. We had a lot more to do before we got to that stage of the game.

Then again, it could all be part of the game.

“You like that, do you?” I asked, pumping my finger in and out of her mouth, just a little. “I’ll bet you’d like it even more if I let you suck my cock.”

She whimpered, eyes wide.

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