River Walk: Ten Kinky Collaborations (24 page)

He continued toying with my jutting nub, peeling back its hood. “Since you never squirted before, I didn’t want you to suppress it. But from now on…” He tickled my clit with the tip of his tongue. “You need to ask permission, if you want to come.”

“Yes, Sir.” I whimpered and squirmed. “May I? Please, can I come?”

“Not yet. I’m still hungry.”

He resumed his meal of my pink, velvety flesh. I arched my back, grabbed onto the quilt and fought to keep my orgasm at bay. He fed on me like a skilled wild beast as an inferno blazed within.

Finally, he gave the command. “Now princess. Come. Come for me.”

I imploded like a bottle rocket. “Fuck! Oh, Jesus fucking, Christ. Fuck yes!” I yanked on his hair and Andrew reduced me to a heap of screaming, squirting, swearing, satisfied, spent bliss.
Oh Sir!

He wiped his mouth on the quilt and his lips made their way to mine. “Sylvie, you’re exquisite. I need to claim you fully. I’m dying to be inside you.” The back of his hand stroked my cheek. His eyes were hooded and black as coal. “I’ve waited for this for a very long time, and I won’t be gentle. You may come again, but it might hurt my princess. You’re very tight. Are you sure this is what you really want?”

“Yes Sir. I want it.”

“Then you need a safe word. And I don’t want you to be afraid to use it.”

I peered into his eyes. “Chocolate.”

A slight smile played on his lips. “Chocolate.” He plucked up my wrists and held them above my head. “Keep your hands here. Don’t move them. Open your legs to me, Sylvie. Let me inside that pretty pussy.”

I opened myself to him, to his world, to our new world together. Being with Andrew this way made my brain quiet in a serene way I didn’t know I needed. He wasn’t gentle in the slightest, but he was everything I craved. He was what was missing.

He clasped his hand around my wrists, securing them in place, and my body shuddered on impact with each raging stroke of his mighty cock.

“Sylvie.” He grunted. “Your cunt is mine. I’m going to fuck it as hard as I want, when I want.”

“Yes Sir.” I cried out. “Oh fuck. Can I come? Please?”

“Yes princess. Flood my cock with your cum.”

I released a tidal wave of my liquid sex while our frantic breathy moans merged in perfect sync.

As our bodies built to the ultimate crescendo, it was just like he said it would be. We were looking deep into each other’s eyes, completely connected, touching the center of the universe. Andrew’s eruption of cum filled me and further bound us together.

He let go of my wrists and we held each other, with his cheek nestled against mine, his stubble feathered against my skin.

“That tickles, but it in a good way. The best way.”

His lips adorned mine with a tender kiss. “You’re the best. I thought about what it would feel like to be inside you many times. You’ve exceeded my expectations.”

Before he pulled out, his cock twitched and swelled anew. “Princess, what are you doing to me? You’ve just smashed those expectations.”

I twirled my fingers in his hair. “I don’t think it’s me. It’s your magic wand.”

He grinned and kissed my nose. “You’re the one that’s magic. Without you it’s just a wand.”

“May I taste it, Sir? Is it okay to ask?”

“You can always ask. And in this case, the answer is fuck yes.”

He was playful for a moment, swaying in and out of me. Then his eyes brimmed with heat and his cock released me. “On your knees, Sylvie. Hands behind your back, and keep them there.”

I scurried to my knees on the floor, lacing my fingers behind me. Andrew’s robust shaft rested at my lips, dripping in our cum.

“Lick me clean princess. Make me rock hard, because I’m going to fuck you again.”

I parted my lips and took him into my wet, wanting mouth. The sweet, tangy flavor of our cum enlivened my taste buds as I guzzled him inside further. His hands coiled around my head, holding me firmly in place, as he controlled the fucking of my mouth. He took it easy on me, rocking in and out careful not force me to his balls. But I wanted to prove myself, show him I could do it. I wanted to please him. And, to see what kind of chastising awaited me.

Once his cock hardened in fullness, he fisted my hair, and soldiered on with rougher, more rampant strokes that toyed with my tonsils.

His voice grew hoarse. “Your mouth is so sweet. You suck cock like a dirty little whore. Good girl.”

That was all I needed to hear. I brought my hands to his fine ass and clutched him tight, forcing him further in my mouth, hoping he would unleash his load down my willing throat.

He stopped mid thrust and seized my wrists. “That’s very naughty, Sylvie. What did I tell you?”

“To keep my hands behind my back.” I cast my eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry Sir. I only wanted to please you.”

“Look at me.”

When I saw the disappointment in his face, my eyes filled with tears. “Yes, Sir?”

“You please me when you obey.” He got down on the floor, and drew me to his lap. “Hey, come here. Please don’t cry. You’re learning. It’s going to take time.”

“Are you going to punish me now?”

“No. I would rather talk about it. Communication is everything.” He arched an eyebrow. “Wait. Did you misbehave on purpose so I would punish you?”

I nodded. “Um…kind of.”

“Sylvie. That’s not how this works. At least that’s not how I work. But, I’m starting to see I have a princess mixed with a hint of brat.”

“I’m not sure what that means, but if you’re saying I disobeyed in hopes of getting a spanking, then yes.”

His voice turned gruff. “If that’s what you need, then ask me. Don’t play games. I don’t respond well to games.”

I swallowed hard. “Sir, I need you spank me.”

“You won’t pull a stunt like that again?”

“No Sir. I promise.”

He shook his head. “You realize I’m spoiling you already?”

“I do. But, I want to feel like I’m floating again. I want to feel that with you.”
He pressed his lips to mine. “Okay. Only, you won’t be floating, princess. I’m going to make you soar. Go outside on the balcony, bend over and wrap your arms around the pillar.”

I jumped up and padded across the floor. “Are you coming with me?”

“No questions. Just march your sexy ass out there.”

This time, I did exactly as I was told. My arms snaked around the pillar while the afternoon breeze wafted over my skin on the secluded balcony. I waited patiently.

Eventually Andrew’s footsteps sounded behind me. “Very nice, Sylvie.” His large hands fondled my cheeks. “I’ve wanted to smack this ass since the day I met you. So firm and seductive, like it was crying out for discipline.”

Five biting spanks followed and my body simmered with adrenaline. His hand dipped between my legs to investigate. “Just as I expected. You’re drenched. I can’t wait to get you to my place and test your limits with a flogger, a crop, a paddle, a belt, and a cane.”

After he said each instrument, he accented it with another unrelenting slap on my bottom. I was bent over, naked, gaining a scarlet bum and I never felt more free in my life.

“Oh Sir. Please, more.”

He wrapped my hair around his hand and pulled. “Yes. You’re a good girl.”

The reddening of my ass continued as my arousal gushed and flowed down my legs in rivulets. Then he ceased and without warning, his huge, rigid erection slammed inside me. My wetness engulfed his cock, and he pulverized me full throttle with masterful strokes, while his hands dug into my hips.

He took everything he wanted from me, but gave so much more in return. I shrieked like a horny slut becoming a slave to his cock’s pleasures. He plunged me to my depths, and my mind flew to the heavens and hovered over the clouds.

My body screamed with passionate hysteria as each punishing stroke pushed deeper and harder inside me. I relished every slaying fuck thrust he delivered to my pussy.

I clung to the white pillar, holding back my orgasm until Andrew gave me permission.

He grunted. “You’re all mine, Sylvie. You belong to me now. Come. Come for me.”

Andrew’s words catapulted our dueling orgasms. My release ripped through me. This beautiful agony of wicked pleasure transported me to a blessed paradise, as he emptied himself inside me.

My ragged limbs nearly gave way, before he hoisted me in his arms with ease. He whispered soft encouragements as he carried me to bed.

For the longest time, he held me to his heart, and stroked my hair while my body came back to earth.

As I laid there savoring the sweetness of him, I discovered something Andrew knew all along. I didn’t need to change. I was perfect, just as I am. I was his.

THE END

One Last Cigarette

CHAPTER ONE

I am restless, writhing in my own skin, ready to explode, on edge. I thought my morning run would help, but fuck no. I know what I need, as it’s been a while, and it’s not a jog. I put my hands in my lap, pushing back from the light table, close my eyes and focus on the sounds of supple leather cutting the air, the faint memory of the sweet sting that rings in my blood that my body and mind ache for.

“Hello, earth to Jackie. I don’t have all fucking day. What are you doing?”

Fuck, her shrill voice pulls me from my reverie and I open my eyes to see her pointy little nose an inch from my face.

“Jesus fuck! I swear to God, Jackie. Your head has been somewhere else all week, you need to check the fuck in, shit is about to get busy here and I need you. What the hell is going on?”

I honestly cannot answer. It’s the lack of focus. I shake my head without an answer and pull the slide from the light table.

“Here, this is the one,” I say, pushing it into her hand as I stand, towering over her slight frame, her pixie hair and angry cat tipped glasses. Such a fucking brat sometimes. “I’m sorry, Imogen, I just wanted it to be perfect.”

“Finally, thank you. Now, was that so hard?”

I want to slap her smug face; she makes it hard, everything, all the time. It must be the artist thing, I don’t know, but damn. When I heard she was coming to the magazine and I was going to get to work for her, the illustrious Imogen Salvin, I was ecstatic! What an opportunity, but God, what a bitch. She is moody and treats the models like meat, which doesn’t bother me all that much as most of them are completely clueless anyway. She has finally stopped asking me to get her coffee, but has no qualms asking me to run her personal errands, no matter how intimate.

I stew as I pick up her dry cleaning on my way home, followed by her snippy little dog I picked up from his sitter. As I hang her dry cleaning in her hall closet and freshen the dogs’ water, I look around at her townhouse. It’s a beautiful brownstone that she has torn limb from limb, gutted and filled with abstract junk that holds no aesthetic pleasure for me. I lock the door behind me and walk the fifteen blocks home, all the while fixated, anxious. I’m simply unable to shake the stress of the day, the whole week really. I know what I crave, and I know it’s been too long. Just like that, my prayers have been answered. As I’m walking up the steps to my fourth floor studio, I get the call. Like Pavlov’s dog, I begin to pant and my pussy gets slick with anticipation

“This is Jackie.”

“Good evening, Jackie.” Her syrupy purr sets my pulse racing and I know what’s coming. “I have a special request for you, Sugar.”

“Perfect! What is it?”

“You remember Mr. Bohm?”

Just the mention of his name sends a delicious shiver running down my spine. How could I forget? The man is a whiz with a strap, and a beast between the sheets. I lick my lips like a stalking lioness before I respond.

“I seem to recall a Mr. Bohm.” I play coy.

“Mmhmm,” Missy replies, knowing full well what the man is capable of and that I am his willing test subject. “Well, this time will be different. He has requested you specifically, for him and his wife.

I pause for a moment. His wife??

All night I toss and turn, aching for that strap, eager to meet with Mr. Bohm yet again, and anxious about what it will entail. His wife…

I rise with the sun and bound out of bed like a child on her first day of school. I can’t wait for the day to be over. To be strung up and spanked within an inch of my sanity. That is what I need, and I know full well that Mr. Bohm will give it to me in spades.

I pick up coffees and Imogen’s favorite croissants before heading in early to make sure everything is just so. There is a big meeting this morning with the legal team from San Antonio. So big that Ellie Cline, herself, editor extraordinaire, is making an appearance. The only time she conducts business directly is on the red carpet or at a black tie party, apart from the occasional snarky comment that will be printed on Page Six about some poor, unsuspecting socialite’s unfortunate choice in clothing.

The air teems with activity as the elevator doors open on an already bustling scene. Assistants buzz about with stacks of paper, cups of coffee and a possessed look in their eyes. I make my way down the glass lined hallway to my little cubby that is tucked behind Imogen’s palatial office when I see the legal team, a sea of suits, sitting casually around the conference room table. Laptops are out and fired up, iPhones in hand, and a feisty looking Ellie is already anchoring the head of the table. I duck around the corner and run headlong into a dark blue suit, a wall of muscle and fine fabric and I lose the coffees. So much for the fine fabric. When I look into his eyes, I’m struck down and go blank. Crystal blue eyes reflect the blue of his threads, a deep dimple on his right cheek stretches into oblivion as he grins at me, not even flinching at the hot coffee I just spilled down his leg and into his fine leather shoes. FUCK!