Disclaimer: The writings here are total fiction; the characters and events have no basis in persons living or dead. This story is intended for those over 18 years of age, and contains subject matter of an adult nature. (Smoking fetish, light bdsm)
Double Elimination
I am naked except for a leather mask. My wrists, ankles, knees and elbows are strapped to a St Andrews cross. My movement is very limited. And yes, I am here because I want to be. Across the room is Karen. She is just finishing touching up her makeup and lipstick. Karen is 25 years old, about 5'5" and 120 lbs. Blonde hair down to her shoulders, and is gorgeous. Her movements reflect her years spent as a stripper. With her makeup finished she reaches for a cigarette. I watch her as she brings her BIC to flame, and touches it to the end of the Virginia Slim. A quick inhale and a slow exhale.
"Are you ready to begin?" I quickly nod my head to the affirmative; a ball gag keeps me quiet. She smiles coyly and approaches. I hear the squeaking sound of the black vinyl corset she has on. Black hose, spike heels, and a small tattoo complete the outfit. My erection begins to grow. Karen is close to me now, smiling, taking a drag from her cigarette. Slow exhale.
CLICK......iiieeeeeeeeeeeee. The sound of the camera shutter, flash, and the unit's batteries recharging for the next shot.
" I see my worries about you being able to perform in this condition were needless. Hmmmm. Looks like you are going to be just fine. For an old man that is..." Karen smiles, takes another drag and exhales up towards the ceiling. She is now just inches from my chest, looking up at me, and lowering her left hand. With a few quick strokes, my penis is now rock hard. CLICK......iiieeeeeeeee. Karen smiles at me, glances to the right to confirm the green light is on and takes another drag on her Slim. Smiling, she lowers herself as she kisses her way down my chest. CLICK......iiieeeeee.
Karen reaches the level of my erection, and smiling, takes my penis into her mouth, very gently. Her tongue does a quick lap around the engorged head, wetting it well. Now another drag, quick inhale, and my cock is back into her soft mouth...Smoke comes from her nose and around the penis. CLICK....iiieeeee. Another inhale, another exhale, and methodical insertion into her soft mouth. CLICK....iiieeeee.
Now begins the hardest part of my job. Not to cum. I must think of something else...but what....her mouth is so exquisite. Her long fingernails tugging at my balls are shear perfection. Must think of something else.......
Tri City Nine Ball tournament last April. I was shooting good pool. I had won the first three matches and was working my way up the left side of the card. I had my $50. Fee back, one more win and I was in the money rounds. As I glanced at the right side of the card (first round losers brackets) I recognized several of my fellow league shooters. I seemed to be the one with the most success today. Even with the "Double Elimination" scoring, chances of a payout seemed good.
"Attention double A. Round four coming up. On table twelve we have Misters Stevens and Jackson. Table nine, Misters Rudy and Beckfield and on table five we have Misters Webber and Smith.
"Hi, Ron Webber good luck."
"Steve Smith, same to you." We shook hands, and lagged for the first break. Steve took the lag, and I racked the balls. Steve had an impressive break shot. Side of the kitchen, and all the power of a pro. I played him well, and we went back and forth winning and losing. I ran out of games. In the race to seven, I came up a game short. We shook hands; I complemented him on his game. After putting my cues away, and with case in hand I retired to the bar for a cold one. About half way through my Bud Lite, Steve ambled into the bar, and took the stool next to mine.
" I drew Rudy in the next round, what does the right side look like for you?"
Steve Smith was tall, about 6'3" and maybe 200lbs soaking wet. Being about 35 years old would be my guess, and about 20 years my junior. Dark brown hair, neatly trimmed mustache, and a bright smile. Things that I had not noticed during our match, as I always play the rack, not the opponent. "I haven't checked it yet, thought I would grab a cold one first. I should have an hour at least before I play again. Can I buy you a beer?"
"Diet Coke please. Beer doesn't do anything for my game."
We chatted on about pool for about 40 minutes. Steve's father and mother owned a bar in Midland. Steve grew up around pool tables, and until recently, the bar had seven on which he could practice. Steve worked in the bar part time going to school. After he finished college with a degree in business, he went into the bar business with his folks full time. Economics had dictated that the pool tables be replaced first with a dance floor, and when that didn't fill the house, they built a stage for live bands, and eventually strip artists. The strip artists made the business a success, however, Steve managed to keep a small area just for the pool shooters. We hit it off well, and since I enjoyed his company, and his nine-ball ability, we set a date to shoot some pool at his club.
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CLICK....iiieeeeeeeeee.
Karen was now deep throating me. Oh God. Her feel, her gentle sucking. Her mouth made a slight pop as she pulled back.
" I need a fresh cigarette. Can I bring you something? Oh, sorry, forgot you can't talk too well with the ball gag. I'll just be a moment. And bye the way, you taste pretty good for an old guy."
