CHRISTMAS DAY..................... K.Quinn
The presents had been opened, the photos taken, and the anticipated holiday dinner was minutes from serving when the telephone rang-- probably your brother, whose incoming flight to the Birmingham airport had been delayed.
"Come pick me up at the airport."
"What? Who is... are you insane, calling me at home on Christmas? My whole family is here!" You had lowered your voice to a near-whisper and turned away from the room. All eyes were upon you.. your lovely but difficult wife, your mother, the 2 children, and the in-laws, including your 20-year old sister-in-law, hot as hell-- whose intense stare now was unsettling.
"Tell them all Merry Christmas then. Come pick me up. Now."
"I can't! Christmas dinner is being served. Call me back in 2 hours."
"No. I know what you're hungry for, and I have it. It's ready and waiting for you. If you don't come here, I will come there, to your home. Don't forget that I know where you live. I think you know that I would do it. So what's it going to be, sweetie?"
And you did know that-- it was no idle threat. Backing up that belief was your awareness of her enjoyment --and expertise--in administering mental torture. Although the 'torture' was by consent, and so very exquisite, you'd seen in her a glimpse of something unpredictable and extreme, wild, bordering on dangerous perhaps, yet compelling. And now, just recalling the previous meeting, any aspect of it, made your cock tingle, then involuntarily harden, like a 'zero - to- sixty- in- four- seconds'. It was now starting to throb, damp at the head. Oh, hell!
"Who is that on the phone, honey?" your wife said, with a pleasant expression, for display to the others. You knew what she was thinking. You heard a disturbing laugh through the open phone line, and with your back still turned to the room to hide your massive hard-on, you made a show of straightening some papers in a business-like manner. You could hardly think straight, or at all-- this was not going to be easy; no sir.
"It's Bill from the warehouse. There's been a break-in and the police are waiting for me to make the report and secure the property. Bill isn't a supervisor, they require one to handle this. On Christmas Day -- I can't believe this crap.. dammit!'
"Language, dear, it's Christmas." your mother said, with her usual air of disapproval.
'Sorry, Mom, and sorry, dear, but I have to do this. The dinner looks just wonderful, go ahead without me, save me a plate. The sooner I go, the sooner I'm back.'
The phone line was open still and she heard your fib, laughing as you played it out by saying 'I'll be there shortly, Bill", and still laughing as you clicked off. You gathered your things quickly and leaned to kiss your wife on her cheek, as she flinched ever-so-slightly. With quick good-byes to all you were out the door.
In the car you felt a flush of shameful guilt, lying to your family and especially on Christmas, and how it came so easily this time. But the train had left the station, so to speak, and the only thing in your head now was how quickly you could get to the airport to be with her, with your cock leading the way.
In the 30 minute drive to the Birmingham airport you fought the urge to pull to the side of the freeway to jack off -- your cock was huge and hard, throbbing with a life of its own. Compelled to touch it several times, with its begging for a release, you visualized her disapproval and its consequences if you did not keep it all for her. It was always all for her--as it should be.
You were grateful for her. She was proof of the adage that peoples' paths may cross for a reason, perhaps a predeterrmined purpose. You were ambivalent and confused at times by your deep need, yet still driven for fulfillment of it. She was the only one ever to fully recognize and embrace it-- her aim was perfect. And that is why you would do anything for her, anything, whatever she asked, or more precisely---demanded. It was your joy. She had cast her spell.
On arrival to the front of the Birmingham airport you spotted her immediately and your stomach flip-flopped with frenzied butterflies. As you exited the car to get her carry-on, you saw your brother waiting for a ride not 30 feet away! Oh god no -- you turned your head quickly but were recognized.
"Benny! HEY -- BENNY!" You couldn't ignore that. A wave of adrenaline rushed in you from being seen with her; discovered.
'My fucking flight was stuck in fucking Cleveland forever. How'd you know I was waiting for a ride? I didn't call the house, I decided to surprize y'all.''
But with your panicky demeanor and her close enough to you with an amused expression, your brother quickly put two and two together. He pulled you aside.
"Oh Benny --- on Christmas for chrissakes?" But he knew of the constant tension and denial at home, and was not entirely surprized now. You said quietly :
"Bobby, please, please, keep this our secret. I'll fill you in later, I'll be home in a few hours."
"Ok, dude, won't say a word, but you owe me big." Stepping forward, he extended his hand to her for a shake, introducing himself with a grin.
"Y'all have a good time now! Merry Christmas!" You glared at him.
As you and she began walking to the car, she burst out with the laughter she'd been holding in. It wasn't funny to you though, not yet. Your nerves were frazzled. As soon as she was in the car, her mood changed.
"Ok, mister--listen up. You know what this is about. It's all about me. Me and just me --and whatever my whims may be. You will do all that I tell you. And now-- you will take us to the Tutwiler Hotel, where I have a suite reserved in your name."
"Yes, ma'am." Hearing her boss you around made your cock twitch and grow.
"Good boy."
Now in the privacy of the car you drank in her appearance--dressed like a floozy, as the old expression goes. She wore a tight lowcut red top, surprisingly with a pattern of cartoony dancing snowflakes, for Christmas; a short black skirt that hiked up deliciously close to her pussy when she sat, and of course, black thigh-length high-heeled boots. She had the look of an above-average hotel-bar hooker.
Your cock throbbed happily in approval.
Although she was looking out the window, she knew you were staring, and slowly pushed her skirt up the 2 inches to reveal that she wore no panties. She spread her legs slightly, and turned to bestow a bright smile to your stare.
At check-in at the Tutwiler Hotel suite, reserved as Mr & Mrs, you didn't have enough cash and had to use your credit card--a panic, the wife--but that worry quickly left your head, for now anyway. In your anticipation you could barely function to make your signature or respond to the banal pleasantries of the reservations desk clerk. You didn't notice the subtle knowing expression and slightly raised eyebrow of the clerk. She did, however, and she turned her head back to flash a disarming smile to the employee, watching them on their walk to the elevator-- and who the hell was he to judge them, anyway?
Once in the sprawling suite of the charming old hotel she ordered you to the bedroom, to get naked and 'assume the position' on the bed, arms over your head, and to wait for her; waiting to be restrained. A strict order was given not to touch yourself. She phoned the room service for bottled water, sodas and Apricot Ale from the West Coast. Then she sent a text message from her cell and made herself comfortable... waiting. And you waited.
Room service was almost instant and that pleased her. The teenage delivery boy appeared uncomfortable in his starched white coat, but brightened noticeably when he lifted his eyes and saw her. At his young age he was not yet skilled at controlling certain outward reactions, and stared openly with a leering, happy smile at her barely-covered body.
He stared first at her breasts in the tight low-cut top, then lingered his stare at her crotch, the short skirt barely covering it. He felt his private parts tingling then quickly expand.
You heard the doorknock and moving-around sounds, but no one was talking--what's going on out there? you wondered, and more importantly, when is she coming to me?
Then you heard her speak, only the one sentence and again you wondered--what the hell is happening out there? "Go ahead, look all you like, there's no shame in that."
As she turned to reach for her bag, to tip him, the upwards crawl of the skirt hem in the back caused the boy to grunt involuntarily. She laughed as she stood close before him, enjoying her intentional arousal of him, and pressed a twenty into his hand. She didn't move away and he looked down at her ripe cleavage, so tempting. As he so much wanted to, he knew it was wrong to just grab. His mind was cranked up loud and racing.... I can tell how much she wants me! Somehow she knew it would be me on Room Service tonight. She wants me so bad, I know it. I should give her some of this that she's hot for... as his hand went to his crotch..
He wondered if she was a call girl, or just a whore-- but he didn't care.
"Thank you, ma'am" were his only words, as he reluctantly departed.
Oh, I sure love teasing those young boys, so fresh and cute, but they need a dam roadmap, she giggled to herself. The truth was that it had amplified her simmering desires into a growing heat and pressing urge that needed addressing, and soon.
She entered the bedroom to verify you had obeyed her orders, but she knew there would be no question of it. Your cock had been various degrees of hard since she'd phoned your house. Seeing her now, as you laid naked, eager to serve her whims and desires, gave your cock a fresh energy, solid and pointing straight up. Your breath quickened, as she knew it would.
"Such a good boy you are today! I am pleased", she said. You beamed a smile as she extracted the necessary items from her large bag.
"Sit up for a minute", she ordered. She situated a small tarp over the pillow, then down the length of the bed, towels fetched from the bathroom were placed over it. She told you to lay down again, and 'Assume The Postion', as she expertly fastened her soft ropes onto the bedframe. You quivered with delight as she looped the slipknots over one wrist, then the other, with a carbiner joining the tightened loops. Your cock visibly throbbed and pulsed. That pleased her, and pleasing her made you happy--and horny: 'a win-win'.
She completed the restraint by slipknotting each ankle with the short ropes so that your legs were spread wide. Her quick handiwork was finished off by sliding a pillow under your ass. While in the neighborhood she swirled her index finger around the tip of your cock--but only for a moment, a tiny torment.
As she looked you in the eyes, your adoration mixed with urgent lust was obvious. She lifted the skirt to slide her fingers down her pussy, never breaking her gaze. I'd better stop, she said to herself, I don't want to cum just yet. But she loved teasing you, stirring the delicious cravings, flexing her power. She sat in a chair to remove the boots, legs spread. You moaned.
There was a knocking at the door and she hurried from the room. Now your curiosity was really piqued, as you heard mumblings of a conversation too muted to follow..
