Dirty Little Deal - Page 7

"Hmpf," she said and turned. Each time she made that little noise, it told me she was with me, thinking about what was happening, and I loved it. I wanted to praise her, but it could take away from the delicate balance we were creating.

She shifted from foot to foot. Was she uncomfortable or teasing a bit? How much leeway would the mask give her? How much would she allow it give?

I could look at this view all day. "Bend over, please."

She did and gave me a little wiggle that I thought needed a reward. Successive approximations, my sister, the dog trainer, said was the key to success.

But how could I reward her? I would think on that. But for now, it was time to get to work.

"That is very nice, thank you for that little gift, Cara Mia. But please stand up straight again and hitch the dress up a bit and then bend over again."

She paused and hmpfed, but complied. I contemplated the view, which did give me more leg, but didn't really do much for pressing boundaries.

"If all you wanted to do was look at me, we could have done this at home," she said slyly, twisting to peek at me from around her leg.

I doubted that. But even if she would have consented to posing for me, she'd have been in her comfortable space, in private. And I doubt she would have let me order her about like this.

Anyway, while this was not in broad daylight, it was a semi-public space and there was the chance that someone touring would see her. And I knew that was keeping her off guard.

I pushed off the wall, took my jacket off, and walked over to the pile of items she'd pulled out of the bag. Laying the jacket on the bag, I lifted the knife. It was a comfortable weight in my hand, the textured bone inlay a little cool to the touch. I had spent a lot of time imagining it slipping through the satin like butter, hissing like it was echoing my pleasure.

She had seen that I moved, but my body blocked her view so she didn't know that I had slipped it in my pocket. She might guess. Which also gave her a lot to think about.

I let her see me place the paddle, handle first, into my back pocket, and approached her. I grasped her by the hips and pressed myself to her. My dick was hard, and it nestled nicely between her cheeks. That told her how much I was enjoying myself.

I leaned in and kissed the skin between the top of the dress and her hairline. It tasted sweaty and a little sweet from her hair product. Nipping, I worked my way around one side, then the other.

She liked it and her hips rolled a little as she shifted her feet. Were they getting sore already?

"How are your feet feeling, Cara Mia?"

"They hurt a little, but not as bad as I thought." She treaded the mat a little and the satin material of her dress whispered over my jeans. I wanted to think it was saying, "More, more."

"Tell me when you need to take them off."

"You aren't going to make me wear them the whole time, Mr. Twist?" she said with a little smirk.

Slipping around in front of her, I pulled her upright and stared intently into her eyes. "This is not an exercise in torture, Cara Mia. This is an exercise in stretching. You must be comfortable to stretch."

She pouted. "I was making a joke."

I appreciated her trying to join in but I needed to be clear about what I intended.

"I don't want there to be any hint that I am not taking your state of mind and body seriously," I said. "Tell me when you wish to remove them."

"Okay," she said, chastened. Did I detect a hint of appreciation?

Chapter 8

I kissed her, long and deep as a way to show her that I cared. After a long moment, she relaxed into it and gave back, hesitantly putting her hands up to cup my face. "Yes," I murmured into her mouth. "I love it when you touch me."

Our tongues sparred, at first lightly, then like dueling swords. I grasped her hair at the nape of her neck, below the coil and moved her head so that I could access her mouth better. She stiffened, then relaxed like a kitten, her breath sighing out around my mouth.

I groaned when we broke.

Her face was hot and flushed. "Kissing like this, it's," she struggled, not to find the words, but to force them out of her mouth. "It makes my heart throb, it makes everything tingle. It makes me want more."

"Turn around again, Cara Mia, and I will give you more."

She did, her movements graceful, her hips loose. As she settled into position, she rocked back and forth on her heels.

"Set your legs under your shoulders," I directed. Then I laid my left hand on her hip and snicked the knife open with my right.

She froze when she heard the sound. I knew she was parsing all the thoughts of the knife and our conversation about her comfort and safety.

I looked at the blade. The light caught it and winked off the wickedly sharp edge.

Gauging what I could see when she had bent over, I quickly slit the skirt from about a third of the down through the kick pleat at bottom.

The material hissed as I cut it. My dick felt like a baseball bat as the lace tops of her hose appeared through the cut, the black contrasting with the creamy paleness of her thighs.

"What are you doing?" she shouted at me. "You just cut this beautiful dress." She looked horrified and I forced my face to stay bland.

"To reveal your heavenly legs more fully," I said, doing my best not to smile at her consternation.

"Heavenly, huh?" She looked around at me, her face flushed, her eyes sparkling just the tiniest bit.

It was enough for me.

"Yes, Cara Mia, heavenly."

"Waste of a beautiful dress, if you ask me." She sounded a little grumpy at the fate of the dress, but she turned and resumed the position. Gawd, she was beautiful and funny at the same time.

She leaped when I reached in and touched her hose, just above her knee. The space inside the skirt was warm, and her skin was soft. It felt like a warm cocoon and I wanted to climb in and curl up. No, climb in, but curling up was not on the menu.

Instead I pulled on her hip to remind her to keep still, and stroked and caressed her legs, reaching higher and higher. She never actually relaxed into my hand, but twitched every time I went further up. When I touched the inside of her thigh, above the top of her hose, I could feel the

moist heat. I wished I was an orchid living in her hot house.

I was not an orchid, but I would be in her hot house if all went well.

She tensed, every muscle tight, like she was coiled to spring away like a deer in a forest. As my hand simply rested on her flesh, she gradually sighed, accepting my touch. I knew that she would start all over when I actually touched her sex and the idea made my dick leap against my pants.

Better to give her a respite and a chance to wonder when I would actually do it. So I stood back and took in my handiwork. The skirt spread into a V.

"Bend over again, please, Cara Mia."

She laughed. "Up and down. Up and down. This is easy."

That was good news. I stepped back and pulled the paddle from my pocket. The purple fur was exquisitely soft, the leather smooth on my hand as I ran it across my palm.

Her arm was cool as I grasped it, just above the elbow before slipping the paddle into the slit I had made in the dress, starting at her knees. She leaped like a horse stung by a fly, but I had hold of her and kept her from moving too far.

She shivered as I ran the furry side up the inside of her left thigh. Her breath was hoarse through her nose and she groaned a bit as she exhaled. So we were getting past the first chapters of her book of rules. And this was a rule that needed to be examined carefully. And with great diligence on my part. My pulse quickened as I considered what that diligence would entail.

I enjoyed the way the fur caressed her skin, the easy way it slid up her flesh. My dick enjoyed it even more and I had to jockey for position to make it more comfortable, or at least not not exquisitely painful.

"See how soft it is, Cara Mia? See how it tickles your tender flesh? Nothing but tactile pleasure. Nothing is happening but a soft tickle. Pleasurable, yes?"

"Yes. Mr. Twist. Could you..."

I saw her face blush, the rosy flush spreading down her neck and around her neck. Even her arm where I held it grew warm.

"Could I what, Cara Mia?"

"Am I allowed to ask?"

Ah, she was trying to figure out the rules for this encounter.

Tags: Theda Hudson Erotic
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