She imagined she was languidly calling for pleasure to come for Mr. Twist with her crooked fingers as they stroked the inside wall.
Her pussy swelled even tighter around her fingers, pulsing as it squeezed her fingers, and she pretended it was Mr. Twist’s cock she hugged so tightly. She gasped as the pleasure rose, teetered on the peak, urging herself on to the glorious fall that would follow.
But suddenly she felt as though she must pee, and she tried to put it off, to ignore it, but the feeling was insistent and she knew that when she let go to come, the rest would follow.
Cursing, Cara Mia got up and went to the bathroom. Once she was done, she returned to bed, but irritation at the interruption had made the moment recede past where she could recall it. She grumpily gave up and put everything away, smoothing the bed, and cleaned up with a towel.
But as she laid the rope carefully in its bag, she stroked a silky coil over her chest and her upper lip, rubbing it with damp fingers, thinking of Mr. Twist holding it in front of her as he contemplated her body as a canvas that he would decorate with the colorful, smooth loops.
Chapter 2
I could hear the doorbell ring in the depths of the house when I pushed the button. A breeze rushed across the bushes lining the front, carrying the smell of someone's barbecue.
Summer was in the air, and the weather had been spectacular. The evening was still warm. That made me think of her nipples again. They were super sensitive and I groaned at the thought of them bared to the lightest breath of air.
Down, down. Save it for later.
Her sensible shoes clicked faintly over the marble floor as she came to the door, and I saw her reflection in the antique mirror that hung on one wall of the foyer.
Her eyes lit up when she opened the door and saw me. Good sign. I believed she has the same feelings for me that I did for her. We hadn't talked about it, but I watched her nipples rise through the mauve silk shell, and thought my chances were better than fuck all. I gave her a kiss that told her I was just as glad to see her.
"Come in," she said, gesturing me in. "Everyone will see."
Like we were a secret or that it was somehow bad that I kissed her hello. I'd been to her company weekend outing in Breckenridge last month. The best I could hope for in public, though, was her hand around my elbow, or a subtle touch as I handed her a fresh glass of wine. Because public displays of affection offended her sense of propriety and she is concerned about appearances.
She thought of herself as modest, upright, conservative, proper. I pictured her lost in pleasure, hair mussed, her mouth swollen from hard kisses, her legs spread, begging me to--
"Luiz?" Tasha pulled me past the door and closed it. "What's this?" She pointed to the bags.
I held them out. "We are going to have a little adventure tonight."
One eyebrow arched and she cocked her chin at me. That was a good sign coming from her. It meant she would keep listening and she wasn't going to deny me immediately.
"I can't wait to hear about it," she said wryly.
I followed her into the living room, watching her ass sway under the black A-line skirt. She had a fine ass, high, twin mounds that the skirt hugged. Just right for spanking. I'd use a bunny fur paddle and give her the soft and then the sharp, then soft again, just so I could watch them redden and her wiggle them at me. I wanted to cup them now, but knew that such kinky action wouldn't do anything to help my case.
"Wine?" She asked as we entered her perfectly arranged living room. I set the bags on the glass coffee table.
"No." That was one of the strictures for the convention I was taking her to. No drinking, no drugs. The experience was supposed to be the high.
There was no wine glass on the coffee table yet, so she had waited for me. That was good. She turned to go to the bar at the far end of the room as I sat on the cream-colored leather couch.
"Tasha."
She turned back to me and my heart thumped hard as I looked into her face. Her brunette hair was pulled back into a loose bun, with tendrils falling to frame her narrow face, accentuating her shocking pale skin. I loved that contrast against my darker Latino complexion. Her eyes were a soft, dark brown that for some reason always made me think about her snatch.
Before I got her into bed, I used to wonder whether her hair was the same color top and bottom. I was delighted to discover that her neatly clipped bush was the same beautiful glossy brown.
"What?" she asked.
"Don't have a glass. Please wait."
Her mouth quirked as she considered the request and then she nodded, returning to where I had sat.
"What are these?" She pointed at the bags again. Curiosity about what I had planned was playing cat and mouse with her interest in what the bags held.
Here we go. "A costume."
"Isn't it a little early for Halloween?"
"It's not for Halloween."
She pulled out the dress and inspected it. "No, I guess not. It's beautiful, though."
I nodded, my dick getting hard as I thought how I hoped it would look by the end of the night, scuffed, maybe torn, hanging off one shoulder, hiked up over her hips.
She fingered the hosiery as she pulled them out of the bag.
"These are very nice. Not my style at all, but very pretty. Where are we going?"
My heart was pounding, my palms sweaty. She might say no. She could reject my offer, turn me down cold, even with the stick. She was strong, resisting anything that even smelled of manipulation.
"On an outing," I repeated. Wording was everything.
She considered the dress and then me. "I wondered why you were wearing black jeans. I've never seen you wear black jeans. Or a skinny tie. Or a raw silk jacket. I have to admit, you look good.
She bent down to the other bag and pulled out the shoes. Her eyes were round and bright as she looked at me. Was she piqued, a little excited even?
"What kind of an adventure are you proposing?"
"Do you trust me?"
Her eyes slitted then, her brows knitted, and she looked at me, calculating.
"With investing advice, yes. You've got a good understanding of markets. With my life? I think you would do everything in your power to save me if I were in danger. With my heart? That's a conversation we haven't had. Is that what you're asking about?"
I stared back, careful to stay relaxed, easy. "I guess it is."
"Should I trust you?"
I thought about all the time we'd spent together, all the weekends away, just us, the mornings over the paper, making breakfast, the dinners downtown.
"Yes, Tasha. You should trust me. I think it's time we made certain admissions to each other. I'll start." I met her eyes, willing her to not break contact, doubt me. "I love you."
She didn't flinch, but she didn't jump for joy either. She did adjust her stance a bit, turning toward me, opening up a little. I thought how she'd be completely open to me if things went my way tonight, how she'd groan as she begged me to have her.
"I wasn't expecting that along with this." She raised the shoes. "I always expected dinner with a starlit view and champagne."
"We can do that, too, if you want. Later."
"What are you planning, Luiz Silva?"
"An adventure you will never forget."
She didn't smile. "Exactly what kind of adventure?"
"Slumming." There. I'd said it. She could think whatever she wanted. Just let me get her there and I would deal with her reaction.
I could see her trying to put it together. But this was so far out of her league, I didn't think she could guess.
"Look in the bottom of the shoe bag."
For a long moment, I thought she would refuse, then she bent down and rifled through the tissue paper until she came up with the black domino, decorated with fine beading, the edge lined with tiny, fluffy feathers.
Considering it, she looked at me from under her eyebrows. I thought I would cream my jeans right there. Gawd, she was so beautiful. S
he'd be more beautiful as I forced her to open, to give in, to give over to me.
The image of her in that black outfit jerked at my cock and I was glad my jacket covered me. It was too soon to let her see how excited I was.
"Slumming? It can't be too gritty if you want me to dress like this. What then? Surely not some club down in Five Points or a biker bar." She couldn't reconcile the dress, the mask, the shoes to those scenarios either.
A smile threatened to flicker across my mouth. Let her wonder. The moment when she understood what was going on would be delicious, and dangerous, and I wasn't going to ruin it.
"So what are you offering?" she asked when she realized I wasn't going to tell her, fanning herself lightly with the domino.
And there we were. She always wanted to negotiate, to make deals.
I would make her deal that would change us forever, one way or another.