House Call

Recap: Stripper finds out where Dr.House lives, visits his house and fucks him senseless. Now...

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His eyes were still closed, and his breathing was laboured. I was still straddling him, and looking down at him in the dim light that washed in from the street, I savoured the rare look of satisfaction that he had allowed to steal across his face. I smiled to myself in the darkness, wondering what emotion his face would reflect when he found out what I was going to do to him.

Just then, he opened his eyes and looked languidly at me, drinking in my luscious, naked body for (what he thought was) one last time. When he was done, when he had taken in every inch of visible skin, and many of the fun inches several times over, he made as if to rise. I slid off his now-flaccid cock, and he pointed me in the direction of the bathroom. His motion was so compelling that my feet mindlessly complied, and for one dreadful moment I thought all was lost. I fought the feeling with all I had, and resolutely turned back to face him. Smiling, I said "By the way, the deal includes a free massage..."

For one split second I thought he looked self-conscious, awkward even, but it was gone before I could really make sure. The brazen confidence was back in place and he rejoined with "By the way, then, I'd love that..." He switched on the bedside lamp, and with the help of its light I found my handbag, (which I had unceremoniously dumped on the floor earlier) opened it, and pulled out a bottle of massage oil and some long handkerchiefs. When I turned back to him, he had rolled over onto his stomach and was inspecting me keenly.

Before he could ask any questions, however, I clambered back on the bed. Straddling his hips with my knees, I poured the sensuous, aromatic oil into the small of his back. His lean, graceful body looked wonderful already and as I imagined him spread out in front of me, burnished, oiled and gleaming in the lamplight, a small shiver went through me and I felt my nipples get hard again.

I began the massage. Starting from his lower back and moving downwards, I worked my fingers in circles, rubbing the oil into his skin. I spread the oil on his ass, and massaging it, I trailed my finger into the crack of his ass, all the way down until it disappeared in between his buttocks. The reaction was spontaneous. Goosebumps appeared on his skin, and he jerked his head around to look at me. I smiled wickedly, and proceeded to repeat the action over and over again with all the fingers I had at my disposal. Soon I had him moaning softly into his pillow, but I didn't want him getting too turned on too early, so I progressed on my way further south.

Moving down his seemingly endless legs, beginning with the left, I rubbed the slick, sensuous oil into his surprisingly strong thighs. I could feel a vein standing out and I traced it with the tips of my fingers, down until it disappeared into the back of his knee. He had stopped making noises now, so I grazed the insides of his thighs with my fingernails lightly, which provoked the desired reaction. After I'd kept him moaning for a while, I went back to the massage.

I kept alternating between easing out his sore muscles and arousing him. Just when I felt that he was sufficiently aroused, I'd go back to massaging him and just when his moans died down my fingers would dance over his sensitive areas and have him moaning again instantly.

I tenderly stroked the v between his legs, brushing his balls, and I could feel the blood rush to them. He made a disappointed noise when I took my hands away, but I knew his balls would be getting a lot of attention really, really soon.

I moved down to his right thigh, and massaged more firmly. His tendons and muscles were all messed up, and I took my time easing out the knots, until I was satisfied I'd done a proper job. Then I hopped off the bed and proceeded to work his calves and feet.

After I was done, I went over to the head of the bed and began to massage his scalp. While I was doing this, he kept his chin propped up on the pillow and looked up into my eyes. Ever since I'd seen him that night at the strip club for five brief minutes, I'd been oddly mesmerised by his forehead. I'd wanted desperately to run my hands along his corrugated forehead, explore the creases, and etch them forever in my memory. As I wondered why I was so suddenly and so strangely fascinated by a part of the body I had never ever thought of in a sexual context, I brushed my fingers tenderly across his forehead, running them up and down, enjoying the sensations rushing across my fingertips. In a flash, the awkwardness returned to his face again, as if it had never gone, and the sexy creases were gone, gone as if they had never existed. He dropped his head down on to the pillow and I placed my hands on his neck. "Is it wrong that I find you unimaginably sexy, Dr.House?" I could feel his skin heat up under my fingers at that, and as I kneaded his neck muscles, and moved on to his shoulders, I knew he wasn't going to reply.

I dripped a stream of oil in between his shoulder blades, and watched it slide down and pool in the small of his back. Reaching over and scooping it up in my fingers, I drew long strokes along his back and over his shoulders, rubbing the oil in and loosening up his sore muscles. As I reached from the small of his back to his shoulders each time, my tits, which were hanging down, would skim his back, and set little pleasure waves tingling in my nipples and my clit. Soon I had closed my eyes and was concentrating on the sensations bubbling through me. The aroma of the oil only served to enhance the experience, and his muffled groans told me that I was not the only one enjoying what was happening.

Reluctantly reminding myself that I had finished only half the massage, I detached myself from his back, got off the bed and asked him to turn over. He did, and I could see that his cock was semi-erect already. Knowing that I had turned on this beautiful, sexy, charming man with my fingers and tits aroused me even more, and my clit was throbbing wildly.

I went back to the foot of the bed, climbed on, took the full length of his cock in my mouth, and convulsed my throat muscles around it expertly. In a flash I had him where I wanted him. His legs were spread apart, his eyes were closed, and his hands were holding the headboard above his head, enabling him to thrust his cock deeper into my mouth. I knew this was my only chance. Before he realised it, I grabbed the scarves and tied his hands together. It took him a moment to realise what was happening. By the time his eyes flew open; I'd tied his hands to the headboard and was tying up the good leg to a corner of the bed.

I would've loved to blindfold this man; to me there is something very, very sexy about controlling a person in such a way that they are both powerless to see what's happening and to object to it. But I didn't want to be deprived of the company of those magnetic blue eyes, which were right now reflecting surprise, disbelief, and confusion. I covered the length of his body with mine, brought my lips to his ear, and whispered "I won't hurt you. I promise."

He seemed reluctant to believe that, and I knew there was nothing I could do to make him believe it, so I just concentrated on the massage. Starting with the area below his cock, I began to rub in a renewed supply of oil. As I worked my way down the now-familiarly strong thighs, I looked up at him, bound and completely at my mercy. He was following every movement of mine keenly, and, not wanting to lose the opportunity, I locked eyes with him, bent my lips to his scar, and planted kisses all along it.

"You have abasiophilia" he said, suddenly. "It's a psychosexual condition that-"

"I don't", I interrupted "I just wanted to see if I could kiss your scar away". I smiled up at him, and went back to work on the leg. I was done soon, and once I again got off the bed, walked to the head of the bed, and started on his face. I ran my thumbs lightly along his lips, and as I looked down at him I saw in his eyes the reflection of my own, trembling with lust and desire and need. He still had his hands tied, so I swung my tits above his head, teasing him with the soft creamy mounds of flesh hanging just out of reach of his mouth. I massaged his neck and shoulders, as far as I could reach, and then swung my legs over the headboard and climbed on, straddling him in a sort of 69 position. I worked his abdominal muscles, stretching them out, trying to ignore for as long as possible the cock that was in front of my face. It was fully erect now, as were my nipples, which were still rubbing his torso, and my clit, which was almost in his face.

I had been denying him release for the better part of an hour, and now it was time to make up for it. I sucked his hard cock into my hot, wet mouth eagerly, and ran my tongue along it, licking up the precum that had been oozing from the tip. Hot breath teased my clit and tickled my pussy lips, and as I rode his cock with my mouth, a series of lusty groans filled the room. I knew he wouldn't last long, and as I kneaded his balls with my fingers, I felt them tightening, and the first stream of cum erupted from his cock and hit the back of my mouth. I warred against gravity to not let a single drop escape, and as a second and third hot stream hit my throat, I found that the thrill of swallowing this fantastically sexy man's cum was a huge-turn on in itself. I was so close to cumming that I wished I hadn't tied him up. At that moment, his lips closed over my clit, and kissed it lightly. That was all it took. My knees began trembling as I lost control. Giving his cock one last lick, I collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily.

When I came to, I felt hands running up and down my thighs. Hands! I jerked around, and saw that he had worked the scarf loose, and was looking at me with an evil glint in his eye. I scrambled for my life, but he had tightened his hold on my thighs, and the moment his tongue touched my pussy I suddenly didn't want to fight anymore. The last one hour's foreplay had not been sated with one orgasm; it had only made me needy for more. And more I was getting, as his tongue expertly slid in and out of my cunt, lapping up the juices that were gushing out of my warm, wet hole. As his tongue kept my pussy busy, his hand found my clit, and began rolling it expertly between forefinger and thumb.

I shrieked, unable to bear the combined onslaught, but he carried on as if he hadn't even heard me. He had me groaning and yelling his name in seconds, and just when I was hurtling towards definite orgasm, he stopped. He took his hands and tongue away. I turned around to look at him, and he was looking at me with both eyebrows raised, a naughty, challenging look in his face. "Wanna come?" he said, and held out the scarf to me. It wasn't really a question. I turned around to face him, and he brought my hands in front of me and bound the wrists expertly. Then, grabbing my waist, he lifted me and slowly impaled me down on his cock, which had recovered and was semi-erect by now. "You should really learn to tie better knots" he said, "When I was in Japan there was this

Ohhhhhhhhh Sweet Jesus

..." The last three words had been a response to my suddenly clenching my pussy around his dick and ticking his balls with my bound hands. He opened his eyes and looked at me. Naked, wanton lust leaped out at me like sparks from those glowing cobalt orbs. "Do that again". And so I did. Soon I felt his cock grow to its full length inside me and fill me completely. I sighed in contentment. "Play with yourself. Let me see." As soon as he said it, my fingers flew to my clit and began toying with it. "Easy, baby, take it slow and easy" He gently pulled my hands away from my clit, grabbed my waist, and began to thrust me up and down on his cock. His strong arms effortlessly lifted me up and pulled me down, and soon we were both moaning in the throes of the fulfilment that we had both craved for the past one hour. As he began to lose control, his arms started trembling, so I guided them to my breasts, and I began riding his cock, hard and fast, harder and faster, for all I was worth. His fingers danced around my breasts, touching and teasing and tormenting, sending emergency signals to my pussy, and then, just as his balls clenched, his fingers locked around my clit, and in a tornado of Oh-my-Gods and Jesus-Christs, we both came, toe-curlingly, heavy-breathingly, body-heavingly, fucking came.

******

When I came to, I was lying by his side. The lamp by the bed was still on, and in its light I saw that I was lying under the blankets and one of his arms was thrown around me. For a moment I savoured it all, all that had been mine in the past few hours, knowing that it would never be mine again. Imprinted each detail in my memory. The play of the light on his arm, his gentle, rhythmic breathing, the way he slept like a baby. I crept across and kissed him on the forehead, slid out of the bed, and began to dress. As I reached for my coat, his voice reached out to me. "Hey". I turned around, and he was scanning me lazily, a half-smile on his face. "That was good. That was really, really, good."

"I know. I'm a pro, remember?"

I left my card on the nightstand. He saw me to the door, and the last view I had of him was exactly the same as the first, as he stood framed in the doorway, in his t-shirt and shorts, the glass of bourbon somehow magically re-appearing in his hand.

The door clicked shut behind me.

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Many thanks to switchclsh for patiently clearing my doubts. Readers, I'd love to hear your feedback. And vote, please!