Page 48 of Mischief Mayhem
“Fuck.” The word barreled out of my mouth as he swirled my pussy in his mouth, licking me from my entrance to my clit, sucking as hard as he could before licking me again. “There ya go. Just like that.”
He listened to my cues, learning from my moans so he could make them louder and deeper. Heart pounding and ecstasy shooting through my veins, I rocked against his mouth, my blood singing as he coated my skin in euphoria. He struggled against the bindings, clenching his fingers before opening them like it took all his willpower to stay still, to not touch me the way he wanted. His cock bulged against the cage, his flesh bubbling around the small openings in a way that must have pained him. But he didn’t let that stop him.
My molecules burned as I got closer to my release, my muscles tightening in response to how amazing and perfect his mouth was as he worked me over. I clenched around his tongue, sending a shock wave up my spine and down to my toes. Just when I was about to come, I pushed myself off him, amused when he leaned farther up to keep going.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” I chided, falling forward to run my nails down his chest, leaving a trail of bright red marks. “So greedy.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he said. “Please.”
“Hmm.” I lay flush on his torso, bringing my face inches from his straining cock. Even from this angle, I could see the tip was wet with precum, the muscle agitated from being confined. Unable to resist temptation, I ran my tongue over the length of him, teasing his pretty dick in between the bars. He bucked upward and pushed his hips closer to my mouth, desperate for more friction.
Such a greedy boy, but I liked that about him, especially when he was tied up and helpless like this. I laughed and dug a forearm into his pelvis, shoving him back down to the ground so I could lick him again. His salty-sweet taste slid to back of the throat, and I swallowed it down before turning to face him. I grabbed his chin to hold him in place and leaned to swipe my tongue over his mouth, chin, and upper lip—anywhere that was wet with my arousal. The delicious mixture of the two of us thrilled me, and I tried not to think about how much it made me shiver. It could make me come on its own. I could devour our decadence for the rest of my life.
“Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue,” I said, and when he complied, I dribbled spit in his mouth in a depraved display of marking him as mine. “Now get back to work.”
I sat on him again, this time facing his outstretched hands, and I worked myself against him harder. He licked and flicked and sucked me, matching my pace, bringing me back up to outstanding levels of ecstasy faster than he had before. My muscles tightened as I fell forward, holding myself up with my palms on his forearms while I rocked my cunt on his face. I pushed up, panting and moaning as waves of pleasure yanked me under their grips. I crested just as my fingers interlocked with his, and the intimacy in that small connection had me gripping him tighter while stars erupted behind my eyelids.
“Fuck, yes, yes, yes,” I groaned, relishing in the aftershocks of my climax as he kissed my sensitive flesh, bringing me back down to earth.
Worked over and rippling with the aftereffects of my release, I sat up straighter and pushed myself off the queening chair, straddling his chest so I could take it off him and peer into his excited eyes.
17
HOLLYWOOD
For eight months, I’d whacked it to my greatest hits highlight reel. Despite being a healthy man in his twenties, I wasn’t a fan of porn and fake orgasms. I’d rather use my imagination to bring me exactly what I wanted.
Nothing could have prepared me for this night with V. I would have stayed under that queening seat all night, eating her delicious pussy until she couldn’t stand anymore. But I’d asked her to break my streak, so the feel of her hot, wet cunt on my chest as she slid down my torso sent my anticipation through the fucking roof. The metal bars around my cock ached in the best way, and every time my dick jerked, I winced against the confinement.
I could see how it would be comfortable to wear around during the day, and if she asked me to, I’d agree in a heartbeat. However, that wasn’t what she wanted from this scene. She wanted me to get hard, and she wanted it to hurt—and I couldn’t find it in me to disagree with her. The stabbing entrapment urged me on in a weird, ironic way, the pain adding to my pleasure.
Yeah, I was a sick fucking masochist and I loved it.
“How are your fingers? You can speak.” She rubbed my palms, massaging blood flow back into them despite not removing the silk restraint.
“Fine, Mistress.” I opened and closed my fists to show her I was okay.
She smiled appreciatively, and I ran the length of her body, memorizing how she looked like this—sitting on top of me, completely in her element, controlling me like she owned me.
The thought of that sent a shockwave straight down to my balls, making me grimace when my cock jerked against the metal.
Did I want her to own me?
It happened again, and I moaned, closing my eyes as I turned my head to the side, wincing against the agony between my legs.
“Do you want me to play with your dick, pretty boy?” Her voice rolled like velvet over my stretched sweaty skin.
“Yes, please.” It came out in a rushed whisper, but fuck, I couldn’t stand it. I wanted the cage off. I wanted to be buried deep inside her. I wanted to never leave this Goddamned room again.
“You’re so sweet after a good face fucking,” she said, leaning to plant a gentle kiss on my lips. Then she scooted farther down my body, leaving a trail of wetness across my stomach from her pussy. I prayed it never dried. I loved the way she smelled—like strawberries and vanilla and woman. I would bury myself between her legs every morning just so I could wear her scent as cologne. Did that make me a special brand of deviant? Probably, but I stopped caring about that when I agreed to this in the first place.
“Fuck,” I murmured as she unlocked the cage, carefully pulling it away from my skin so it didn’t hurt me more than it already had.
“Oh, look at that,” she said, and I picked up my head to glance down my body. My cock stood ramrod straight, the grid from the cage imprinted in my skin. It throbbed and leaked, but I loved the sensation. “It looks like art. Would you get this design tattooed here if I asked?”
“On my dick?” I barked out the words before I thought about them, and she slapped the insides of my thighs hard enough to have me buckling in the middle. “Fuck. Yes, Mistress. Yes, I’ll do whatever you want.”
She chuckled and leaned down to drag her soft tongue along the length of me. The warmth of her lips enveloped my cock and I groaned, relaxing against the mat underneath me.