Adventurous Me (13 page)

“Only if I can rub it on your cock and lick it off, Sir,” I grin.

He grins back. “I’m sure we can work something out!”

Not only do I rub it on his cock and lick it off, he drips it onto my cunt and does some licking of his own. We do it in the car like a couple of horny teenagers, and we giggle and laugh the whole time. When we’re done we’re a sticky mess, but we’ve had fun.

When we get back to the house, I put my hand on his where it rests on the steering wheel before he can get out. “Sir, I just want you to know that I had a lot of fun today. Thanks for showing me a good time.”

He leans over and kisses my forehead. “You know, I had fun too, the most fun I’ve had in a long, long time.” Then he comes around to open my car door and we go in the house, where I’m pretty sure he’ll fuck me all night long.

At least I’m hoping so.

The bliss is short-lived. On Saturday afternoon apparently I commit another faux pas. When he comes into the living room to watch the ballgame, I’m kneeling on the floor in my spot. The first words out of his mouth are, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

My eyes go round. “What, Sir? I don’t know . . .”

“Your hair. Why did you do that?”

I just pulled it up into a ponytail after I washed it. I thought it would be nice, since it didn’t appear we were going anywhere, and it would keep it out of the way. “Uh, Sir, I . . .”

“I thought you understood that it belongs to me. I don’t want it tied up. I like it down. Go back there, take it down, brush it out, and get back out here. Pronto.” I take off at a run, or as much of one as I can manage in heels, and do as he says. Then I come back out and drop back into my spot. I thought that settled it.

It did not.

He disappears and comes back with a pair of nipple clamps in his hand. “Stand in front of me and arch your back. Put your arms behind you and grab each elbow with the opposite hand.” When I do, my boobs stick out and my nipples are front and center. He twists and sucks one until it’s hard, then puts the clamp on it, and repeats with the other. Once they’re on, he starts to turn a little screw device on them and they get tighter and tighter until tears are running down my cheeks. Then he grabs the chain and pulls me across the room.

When we get to the front door, I wonder if he’s going to lead me out onto the porch naked, but he doesn’t. Instead, he twists a loop into the chain and pulls it down, looping it over the doorknob. “You’ll stay there until I tell you that you can move. And keep your arms behind your back.”

It takes about fifteen seconds for the position to get uncomfortable, and less than two minutes for it to become unbearable. It wouldn’t be so bad if I could use my hands to brace myself, but I can’t; they’re still behind me. It’s becoming hard to stay upright on the heels when I’m bent over so far, but I know if I fall the clamps will probably rip my nipples right off.

He watches the first inning. Then the second inning. I can’t believe I’d still be standing by the end of the third inning, but I am. Halfway through the fourth I’m beginning to think I won’t be able to stand it another minute when he says, “Unloop the chain from the door and come over here.” I do as he says and totter to him, still somewhat bent over and tears streaming down my face.

“Here we go,” he says and pulls off the first clamp. The agony makes me lightheaded. I’m panting and screaming when he pulls off the second one, and I stumble and almost fall from the pain, but he catches me. “
Now
you can kneel.” That’s all he says, and he goes back to watching the game as though nothing has happened.

I look down at my nipples. They’re purple and swollen, and they have little ridges in them where the clamps were. I desperately want him to suck on them, lick them, make them feel better, but he just keeps watching TV. At the end of the fifth inning he asks, “Still hurting?”

“Yes, Sir,” I whine.

“You can reach them with your mouth, can’t you?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes, they’re big enough that I can, Sir.”

“Suck and lick them yourself. And do it so erotically that I can’t watch TV for watching you.”

I start. At first I’m just flicking at them with my tongue, but then I start to actually suck them. They sag just enough that I can bring them up and capture them between my lips – hey, gravity is not my friend, okay? At first, he’s paying absolutely no attention to me. As I suck one, I lick it, and I moan a little.

That gets his attention, and he unzips his jeans, pulls his briefs down under his balls, and starts to stroke his cock. I want to suck it so bad that I can’t stand it, but he hasn’t told me that I can, so I keep it up with my nipples. After a little while I draw them down, then roll and pinch them with my thumb and fingers. I pull on them individually a couple of times, then at the same time, then go back to sucking them, and I watch him start to stroke faster. A little groan escapes his lips and he rubs his palm around the suede-soft head of his dick, then goes back to stroking. I’m getting hot and wet watching him, and he’s getting hot and hard watching me, and we’re driving ourselves crazy watching each other. I take a chance.

“Sir, I’d love to suck your cock.”

“I’m sure you would, but I want you to watch me pleasure myself instead. Does it arouse you to see me do this?”

“Yes, Sir. It’s very, very hot.” I pause, then I say, “You’re very, very hot, Sir.”

“Thank you, Vännan. You’re pretty damn hot yourself. Bring those tits over here, baby.” I crawl in between his legs and lean in, and he squeezes my breasts together and slips his cock between them. In a matter of seconds he’s tit-fucking me like crazy and I’m still playing with my nipples. Watching me makes him frantic and he’s thrusting like crazy. He cries out, “Oh, god, Trish, oh, fuck!” and shoots cum up under my chin, where it runs down all over my chest. When he stops panting, he looks down at my chest and smiles, then runs his finger through his cream and sticks it in my mouth. I give his finger a hard suck and he repeats the action, watching me with sparkling eyes while I suck his finger over and over until I’ve taken in almost all of his cum. “You’d lick it off your chest if you could reach it, wouldn’t you, Vännan?”

“Yes, Sir, I would,” I say, blushing a little and looking away.

In a flash his hands are on my waist, pushing me down onto the carpet, and he’s in me and pumping like a maniac before I can even brace myself. My legs come up and around his waist, and he squeezes the flesh of my ass in his hands as he drives into me, his palms searing my skin, the ballgame forgotten in his frenzy to take me. “Reach between us and stroke yourself, baby. Make yourself come.” I don’t need to be told twice, and I start stroking my hard little nub and crying out, grinding against him with every thrust of his hips.

I finally scream out as I convulse, my cunt banging into his pelvis as he continues to slam into me, and he cries out, “Oh, fuck me!” I can’t believe there could still be a drop of cum in him, but it shoots into me and runs back out as he continues to milk himself into me.

When he drops on top of me, his lips find my ear. “You are without a doubt the most precious, delectable fuck I’ve ever had,” he whispers, nibbling at my earlobe, and I giggle. “Do I do it for you, little one? How do you feel when I fuck you, baby?”

“Like I can’t get enough. Like you fill me up in ways no one else ever has. Like I don’t want it to end, Sir.” I want to say,
Like I’m falling for you,
but I don’t.

“Then we’re on the same page,” he whispers back to me, and I feel something in my chest, something that makes me feel like a fifteen-year-old girl.

And I like it.

T
hursday passes without me getting myself into any of that trouble, you know, the kind that I seem to not know I’m getting into until I’m already there. Clint winds up having to do some work and, bless his heart, he falls asleep with his laptop in his lap, leaning over on the sofa. I wake him so he can go to bed; I just quietly say, “Sir. Sir, please, wake up and go to your bed. You’re going to hurt in the morning if you don’t.” He takes me by the hand and leads me down the hallway to his room. We have sex, a calm, peaceful thing, then he promptly falls asleep. I’m not sure if he wants me there or not, but I’m afraid to get up and leave, so I just stay there with him. The next morning he wakes hard as flint, his head resting on my chest and my arms tight around him, and he seems glad to find that I’m still there. So it goes pretty well, all things considered.

Friday I’m not so lucky.

I keep thinking about the date. It seems like there’s something I’ve got to do or somewhere I’ve got to go, but I can’t remember what, and my planner is at home. Around ten that morning, after Clint’s gone to meet with a client, I suddenly remember: I’ve got a doctor’s appointment. Not just any doctor’s appointment, but an appointment with a gynecologist it’s taken me four months to get in to see. I’ve
got
to be there. And I have no car.

I try to call Clint, but he doesn’t answer his phone. I’m frantic. By eleven, I don’t know what to do so, since I’m ready to go, I call a cab. I make it there with ten minutes to spare and check in.

The appointment was at eleven forty-five. At one o’clock, I’m still waiting. Two o’clock comes and goes, and still nothing. I’m not the only one sitting around either. There’s a whole waiting room full of patients, all sitting there for hours.

Sometime shortly after three, I get a text from Ron.

hey y is there a charge on my cc 4 over 2c at fet wearhouse? wtf?

Clothes for my adventure, dickwad.

y should i pay for that?

Maybe because I worked to put you through college, asshat.

im calling my attorney skanky bitch

Community property state, ball licker. Suck on that. Now leave me tf alone.
That should take care of his questions.

By four o’clock, I’m beginning to think this appointment isn’t going to happen. At four fifty, they finally call my name. I see the sign on the door that reads “All cell phones turned off past this point,” so I turn mine off. In the exam room I take off my clothes, put on the paper dress, and wait.

At six ten the doctor finally comes in. She apologizes profusely; she had a baby to deliver and there were complications. By now I’m no longer upset that I’ve had to wait so long. Instead, I’m upset that Clint will be home and I won’t be there, and I don’t know what will happen when I do get there.

I finally get out of there at six forty-three. I have two missed calls from Clint, and I try to call him, but he doesn’t answer. I made the woman at the window in the doctor’s office sign the receipt saying I was there until six forty so I have proof of where I was. The lights are on when I get to the house, and I gingerly step through the doorway, wondering what manner of hell is about to descend on me.

Clint is in the kitchen, making something that smells delicious. When I come in, I’m about to cry. He turns and asks, “So where have you been?” He doesn’t seem angry, and I’m relieved.

“I kept thinking that I had somewhere I was supposed to be, Sir, and then I remembered about ten o’clock that it was a doctor’s appointment, and it was with a doctor I’ve been trying to get in to see for four months.”

“And what time was this appointment?” he asks.

“Eleven forty-five. And I just left there. See? The woman at the window signed it so you’d know I was there.” I show him the receipt.

His brow furrows in disgust. “Did the physician give you any idea why you had to wait so long?”

“Yes. She said she had a baby to deliver but the delivery was complicated and it took longer than she thought. I wasn’t the only one waiting. There was a whole waiting room full of women waiting to see her.”

“I see.” That’s all he says. He turns back to the stove.

“So is it okay, Sir? I mean, are you angry, Sir?” I’ve finally stopped shaking.

“Sure. It’s okay. I mean, you couldn’t help it, right?” He stirs something and then gets out a plate.

“No, Sir, I couldn’t, but I’m sorry I didn’t remember sooner. I did try to call you, Sir, several times, but you didn’t answer and I didn’t know what to do, so I got a cab.” I realize I’m starting to babble, but I’m just trying to explain.