Page 1 of H Is for Hardcore

HARD COCK, HARD MAN.

You’re standing over me as I lie on the bed. It would almost make me feel weak and small if I didn’t have such an incredible hold over you. If I hadn’t taken you to the edge five times already today. If you didn’t need to come so much right now that it’s pulsing off you.

You’re naked. You’re so pretty when you’re naked that all I really need to do is look at you. Strip you and have you stand there while I masturbate to the sight of you. Use you as porn.

But today, God, not today. Not with the way your breath is stalling, the way your shoulders are moving; the way your aching, wanting cock is hitching forward, fucking the air in front of you. Your hands are braced behind your neck. You know better than to move them.

“Lick your lips,” I say. So cheap, but it makes me hot to see your tongue because it reminds me of all the times I’ve used your tongue as a sex toy.

Your tongue moves over your top lip. You keep eye contact with me, like you’re trying to seduce me. Maybe you don’t realize you don’t need to. Don’t realize how helpless the sight of you like this makes me. Maybe you don’t feel how much power you have over me. Maybe all you can feel is how much you need to come. How much you need to convince me to let you come. Really, I don’t need convincing of anything.

I lean over and pick up the cuffs that are lying on the floor and hold them out to you. You move your hands from behind your neck and take them.

“Put them on.”

You snap each bracelet around a wrist and take a careful moment to fumble and flip the safety catches that stop them getting tighter. I love you in handcuffs. Your thick wrists look weirdly oversized in them. You make them look tiny and tinny. Like jewelry. Sexy boy. Sexy decorated boy. It’s not even Christmas.

Clamps would be nice, too, I think. More sparkle. Clamps are pretty. Your pain is pretty. More than pretty. But I’m too much of a greedy needy wanting demanding bitch right now to stop and look for them.

So instead I say, “Touch it. Touch yourself.”

You do it. You put your cuffed hands on your cock. And you moan. You actually moan. God, you are such a tease.

You know just how to make me want you. And I start to think about letting you come even though that isn’t my plan. I think about how your face looks when you release. My pussy starts to pulse harder. And it was already on fire before.

I make myself tell you to stop, and you give this delicious twisted little noise and put your cuffed hands back behind your neck.

I don’t know how I am supposed to maintain a demeanor of icy control in this situation. I’m so completely the opposite of icy. I’m so damn hot and so damn wet and all I want to do is tell you to come over here and fuck me as hard as you can.

Some people do this kind of thing all day long. Every day. Tease men. Dominate men. Some people do this for a living. How do they not lose their minds? Maybe because they don’t have you. That’s what I keep telling myself. They’re not teasing you.

Your hips are still jerking a little. I think about getting off the bed and kneeling in front of you and taking your cock in my mouth. I love your cock. I love sucking your cock. It took me a while to find a suitably dom way of sucking your cock, but eventually I discovered that if your hands were tied behind your back and your ankles were forced apart with a spreader bar and your nipples were clamped and I had a vibrator tight against your arsehole, that worked for me. Kneeling in front of you when you’re trussed like that. Like some kind of ripe, throbbing bondage god. Long licks; teasing, swirling my tongue around the head. Making you see stars. So yeah, I can suck your cock and still be topping you. Which is nice. Because sucking your cock and owning you are my two favorite hobbies.

But I’m not going to suck you now. Delicious as your cock looks, you’re just too ripe for teasing.

You’re looking right at me. Naked. So hard. Big muscular legs spread, hands behind your neck. Oh, God, you’re so fucking hot. I want to come. I could come just looking at you. I already said that, didn’t I? Well, you haven’t exactly got any less hot since then, you know.

“I’m thinking about your chastity belt,” I say. You manage to avoid making a noise. You sort of swallow. Actually, it’s like a gulp. It’s delicious. You really don’t know I’m lying. That there is no way I could strap you away at this point. I’m lost. You’ve got me. You’ve totally got me. But you don’t know it and I lie to you some more. “I’m thinking about strapping you away instead of letting you come. You could beg me not to do that, if you want.”

You say something like, “Please don’t,” but it’s really quiet and simply won’t do.

“I didn’t hear you,” I say. “I need to hear you.”

Your tongue flips over your lips. Fuck. Your tongue. You make me think of that tongue on my clit. You make me want you even more. I can’t take much more of this. “Please,” you say, more loudly than before. “Please don’t do that. Don’t. I can’t. Please, baby, I want to come.”