Good Man Pt 02

Erin doesn't hit me, hard or otherwise.

She just caresses, the warm texture of leather electric on my neck, under my ears, across my cheek. She comes before me, tosses the crop aside, continues with her fingers.

She pretends to be blind, eyes closed, fingers—both hands—on my face, outlining my eyes, my nose, across my lips, testing their resilience, making me shiver.

"Don't move," she says. "Just enjoy. I know I am."

The backs of her fingers rasp up my cheek's day-old stubble then slide down my neck, gently massaging. My shirt's in the way. Her eyes open and the buttons become undone, top to bottom, her knuckles bumping my skin, electric. She hauls the shirt from my pants, pushes it off my shoulders, down my arms. I'm naked from the waist up. Below the waist, I react, half hard, waiting for her to decide that my pants should come off too.

She stretches up, puts her lips an inch from mine, eyes on mine, glances at my lips. "Bored?"

I feel myself grin, want to kiss her, touch her. "What do you think?"

She brushes the sparse hair on my chest, bumps over my nipples once, twice, three times. "I don't know, tell me."

"The proof is further down." It is, my cock straining.

"Actually," she says, my roused nipples between her fingers, "the proof is right here."

But their message flows downward, my inflated cock the response. I want her to quickly get there. And I want to touch her more than ever. I raise my hands, hover an inch from her sides, hesitate.

"Do you think you need permission?" she says.

"I don't know."

My nipples are more alive than I ever remember. Maybe it's the repeated brushing, her fingertips nudging, circling, pinching both simultaneously. Maybe it's her and her take-charge ways, her promise of something new, something wicked. I don't know and don't care. My nipples are abruptly abandoned, her fingers on my tummy, up my sides, tracing the top edge of my pants. It's a dilemma: my needy nipples or my needier cock.

"I can take my pants off," I say.

"You men, you're all the same. Their almighty cocks talking, taking charge." She places the flat of her hand directly on it, firmly pushes, watches me. Moves away. "You're already hard; it doesn't need more. But if you want to touch me, go ahead."

"Where?"

"Come now. You didn't have that problem with our cute waitress. Where was it you wanted to touch her?"

"You know I know where."

She's back to my nipples. I'm going crazy with need. I hadn't realized how much they missed those skilled fingers. "Tell me. Be specific."

"Between her legs."

"You wanted to fondle her wet cunt through her panties, right?"

"Yes, I did."

"With me watching?"

I don't answer. I may was well say yes anyway, Erin's sly smile proves she knows me well.

"But she's not here now. I am. And I'm wearing panties too." She pecks me on the lips. "And a wet cunt, shaved." She moves her legs apart. "Or isn't it as fascinating as hers?"

It is. It's so soft, so arousing. I can't get enough of it. When I run my finger up the middle she all but buckles in pleasure.

"Now you're getting it," she says.

It becomes a slow dance, our fingers over each others bodies. But I'm straining in my underwear, constricted inside my pant-prison. And her cunt is behind two layers of fabric. The rest of her is protected by the corset. It looks wonderful but feels inert.

"Take my pants off," I say again.

"No. Strip me. Touch me everywhere. Don't miss anything, inside or out." She unclips the topmost corset clasp, sticks out her breasts. "Do the rest."

I unclip and fold back the corset, free her breasts, marvel at how high they sit, how pert they are, how she freezes when I skim my fingertips over her nipples, doing to her what she's done to me. I peel down her panties, her hose, confirm that her cunt and lips are hairless. An intoxicating scent fills the space between us.

"Don't just stare like a schoolboy." She approaches, presses her naked body to mine, her hips forward. "Tell me how much you'd like me to suck that hard cock of yours?"

"You have no idea." I press into her, make sure she knows how aroused I am. She grins up to me, holding her ground.

"Take my pants off." I sound like a broken record. But I want my cock free to be touched.

"What's in it for me?"

I laugh. "A hard cock, what else?" A good come is what else.

She runs a flat hand up and down me again. "If I was a man, I would be hard too. But this is my show." She kisses me, fierce, her tongue between my lips, my teeth, eyes closed, breathing long and deep. "I've been wanting you from the first time I saw you." She breaks the kiss, sits on the couch and pulls up her legs so her feet sit on the cushions, knees wide. "You know what to do."

I kneel before her, survey the feast she's opened to me, want to plunge my cock inside. Her sweet fragrance drives me insane, folds open, dewy hot. I spread her lips with my fingers, feel the heat on my face, taste her, hear the sharp intake of air. I run my tongue from bottom to top and stop against her swollen nub and just hold. And hold.

"More," she says, hands gripping my head.

I nudge the hard cord of her clit back and forth, hear her draw another deep breath, her hips rolled into my face. I push back, drunk with her juices, the slippery tang, and stab her clit until she's hyperventilating. But I don't stop. I close my lips around her, suck up soft flesh, press my tongue against her most sensitive nub. It's come out to play and I'm going to give it a workout she'll never forget. After, maybe, she'll relent and make my cock happy. Until then...

I feel her whole body tense, her grip harden in my hair, her breathing go long, deep, then freeze, every muscle beyond taut, legs iron and trembling. Just a few more flicks and—

"Aahhh! Fuck!" she cries.

I hold on, push more circles into her clit, suck so hard it cannot hide. She grips my head and forces me to her sex, thighs clamped around my ears while her orgasm wreaks havoc. I know it's a good one, hear the shrieks, muffled though they are, my lips a vice over her searing flesh until she rips my head away, pulling me to her breasts. Under the panting lungs, her heart races.

She pats my head, slowly recovers, pushes me away so I sit back on my heels. "Now you," she says.

There's no permission given to drop my pants. She does it herself, sitting on the edge of the couch, legs wide, shiny lips slick and inviting. I touch and strangely, despite the just-now orgasm, she lets me.

My cock, long neglected, freed, springs up to meet her, wants her touch, her mouth, wants cum to spurt down either cunt or mouth, doesn't matter.

"Nice," she says, pushing my hand from her sex, sliding off the couch to kneel before me.

A trickle of pre-cum oozes out. She licks it up then swallows me whole, cradling my balls. I'm going to be short work. I didn't realize how ready I was, how little attention it will take to finish me. But I'm not telling her that. All I want is my seed sucked from my balls. I hold her head like she held mine. She doesn't fight it. I'm going to come and she knows. That thought has me soaring, balls tight, everything tense. She freezes. Nothing moves. I'm a hair's breathe away.

"More," I say.

She shakes her head.

"Please." I'm hoping against hope she'll let me come. She licks at the head. The jolt electrifies me.

"More what?" she says.

"What you've been doing."

She nods. "Oh, getting you close. That's good, because for a moment I thought you actually wanted me to let you come."

I ignore that. "Please," I say.

She takes me again. In seconds I don't think I can keep upright, my knees weak. But I fight, hold my position. It won't be long now. Seconds.

Then my cock is cold because she's off again, a wry grin on her face. "We've got all night. And I'm going to do everything I can to drive you mad."

But not come.

She strokes me manually, my cock slick, her fingers magic as they slip over its length, as she squeezes the head through her fingers.

"I warned you," she says, looking me in the eyes.

Indeed, she has.

Pre-cum spread over an overwrought cock feels wonderful. I'm shaking, tremors rolling up my body. She slows. I'm in a steady state, sort of, rock hard, everything inside me tense, ready, but she's not doing enough to push me over.

I've never been denied before. It's both maddening and euphoric. I open my eyes, which means I must have closed them. Erin's only focused on my cock, my balls, speeding up before slowing, keeping me at this infernal sweet spot. Strangely, it's driving me higher and higher but doesn't trigger orgasm. My cock is so hard it hurts, my balls achy, swollen, my legs beginning to cramp from the stress. I brace, my hands on her shoulders.

She stops, looks up. "Don't worry, I'm not going to go on forever. But later, in bed, this tease is going to seem two seconds long. Hopefully, it'll get a lot more intense."

"Will I come?"

No answer. But more attention to my cock. I'm so close I can feel the come begin its trajectory. She stops, pulls away. The need stays sharp, imminent, everything between my legs electric. I didn't reach orgasm, but it feels wonderful in a way I've never experienced. My cock, rock hard, throbs. If she ever did this multiple times I'd die of need. For sure I want this again. But I'm not going to tell her.

"Only if I screw up," she says.

"I see," I say, sounding pathetic.

"And?"

I'm not sure if that means she understands how I feel or doesn't care—my need, my balls's need, is simply what it is, nothing more.

She sits back. "If you want more, I'll happily oblige."

"I've never been treated like this, it's..."

"It's what?"

"I don't know. I'll try to figure it out, later." After she's teased me again. Maybe an extended one will solidify the feelings. Or maybe I'll just be hard for a very long time. "Make sure I understand it completely."

Her face lights up, ear to ear, genuine. "Good man." She sits back on the couch, splits her knees apart. "My turn again. But use your fingers this time. Fill me up."

Teasing me turns her on as much as it does me. She's beyond wet, beyond responsive. Three fingers go in easily, and a fourth. She watches their progress, how I've pulled them together, how my thumb pushes the hard core of her clit back and forth. She seems transfixed by the small movement.

"More," she says. "Harder."

I do that, forcing her clit to just squeeze by under pressure as I shove it this way and that. She strains but remains stoic. This can't be easy for her, filled as she is, her clit manhandled. She'll soon break. I want to see her go to pieces.

"Your thumb too, inside," she says, no more than a whisper. "Everything. Please."

I've never done this. "Are you sure?" I'm a man, six feet, fit, strong, big fists relative to hers.

"Are you sure you want to come?"

Okay then. Who am I to deny her? I fold my thumb into my palm and push in, my fingers curling into a ball. She holds her ground, legs as wide a she can make them. Her eyes are open even wider.

"Fuck, I've taken your whole hand!" she says.

I begin to pull back.

"No, don't. Stay." She squeezes her nipples. "Use your tongue."

Stretched as she is, her clit is exposed, unprotected. I flick once, gently, and she emits a moan. Again. Another moan. I'm not sure if this is good or too much.

"Chicken," she says. "Give it hell."

I carry her to her bed, settle in beside her, both still naked, sheets quickly pulled away. She's still winded, in a half daze. I've gone soft but a lingering need lies just below the surface. Maybe the fact that she's experienced something new will be enough to soften her resolve.

She cuddles me, on her side, arm down my body, hand near my cock, head on my chest, one leg over mine. "Give me a minute," she says, looking up at me. She's obviously happy, sated. "And don't think for a second that I've lost my mind. But, that's the best orgasm I've had in years, maybe ever. You're amazing. So, I could, maybe, be talked into a reward of some sort."

The ferocity of her orgasm astounded me. It made me forget about myself. She forgot about herself too, I'm sure. Unlike her first, it didn't cross directly into a full blown orgasm. It seemed to stall, hold, for a good long time, right at peak. Her body had locked, frozen, everything strained to breaking, her cunt contracted around my hand so hard I hurt. Her face showed wonder and surprise at the same time. When it finally went over, the spasms pulled her into fetal position, my fist stuck inside, her muscles clenching over and over and over.

I was jealous. My orgasms never lasted that long, never sent me spinning like that. During those moments she'd become slave to it, a rag, a convulsing machine intent only on feeding her pleasure, her cunt firmly in control. I wanted to experience that level of intensity too.

"I thought you'd pass out," I say. She's still dazed, shaky.

"Not just you." She slides a few fingers over her sex, carefully. "I'm still sensitive, sore nearly, but not quite." She shivers noticeably. "I didn't expect you to touch me so...directly." She shakes her head. "But when you did— I must have been really turned on. Your fault."

"I'm flattered, I think." I am. "But I want one of those too. Hard like that." I can't believe I've told her something so personal.

She takes my cock in hand. "Are your orgasms wimpy?"

I shrug. "I'm not sure about that, but... Nothing I know about myself tells me I can match yours. Maybe it's a woman thing."

"Is that a challenge? Should I step up?" She glances at my cock. "Or get down?"

She pecks me on the cheek, rolls my balls in her palm, pressing gently, everywhere, with the pads of her fingers, methodically, like a doctor examining.

"I like these," she says.

"Yeah, me too."

"But I like them best when they're full of cum."

"So wouldn't letting me come really hard be counter productive?"

"Maybe. But let's say you did have a really good one, harder than ever before, what would you give up to have another?"

"Quite a bit." A lot, if what I feel now is any indication. It won't take much to get me off. She's barely begun and I'm hard. "But you haven't proven you can give me that kind of pleasure."

"True. So let me have my way with you for a while; let me try. But for now, if the teasing gets intense enough, or satisfying enough, you might not want that fabulous come at all."

"Yeah, right."

"But you will let me try, won't you?"

An innocent question, but one that demands I answer in the affirmative. As long as I'm with her, that's my only choice. "Of course."

"And if I get really good at keeping you at the very edge?"

"Then I don't come."

"But you might learn something."

"Like what?" I say.

"Like a good tease has a reward all its own."

"Other than yours."

"Clever boy. There's something very attractive about a horny man. You, specifically."

"Is that all I am to you?"

She shakes her head. "Remember you said men vote with their feet. Well, you're here and I'm here, by choice. So there's more to it than that."

She likes me. I hold her close. "I like you too."

"Enough for a walk on the beach?"

"Yes."

"But always horny, anxious for the day I let you come."

"I'll be monster, wanting relief all the time."

She kisses my cheek again, brushes her lips against mine. I shiver. "Then it's a monster I'll get. Now be quiet. The next hour is going to be frustrating, for you. And after..."

"I'll get to come?"

"I'll make you a deal. I don't want to push you over by accident. So you're going to tell me if I'm going too far. After the hour's over, if you haven't learned something about yourself, I'll give you what you want."

I'm confused. "I thought I had no choice in any of this. I remember you laying down the rules."

She looks at me a good long while. I imagine I can see her thinking. Something is going on I don't understand.

She abandons my balls, my cock, wraps her arms around me, her lips a fraction of an inch from mine, her eyes wide, searching. But no words. Then, "I like you."

Goosebumps erupt everywhere. "And you don't want to lose me."

"Now you're the one being blunt."

"What if I promised to do as you say, when you say, no exceptions."

"For how long?"

I don't know. But submitting to her, sexually, is clearly a good thing, my cock telling me exactly that. "As long as you want."

"That might be a long time."

"Or it might be a revelation. If you're that certain I'll learn something, something I'll want to experience again, I'll crave more, right?"

She takes hold of my cock again. It's hard. I'm betrayed. "You like this, don't you?" A warm smile erupts. She kisses me, hard, probing, hot. "Wait here," she says.

She slips from the bed, returns with a towel and a tube of lubrication. After stretching the towel under me, she squirts some lube on my cock, my balls, that piece of skin below them, then massages it in, thoroughly. It feels wonderful. She sits between my legs, her knees arched over my thighs so I can't pull them together.

"Not a word." She slowly drags my slippery cock through her fingers. I can barely breathe. "Remember, if I misread you, let me know."

I'm party to my own frustration. "Is there a reward for that too?"

"I'll think of something."

"You'd better," I say, trying to stay focused. Her slippery hands are heaven, my cock iron-hard, my mind going to mush.

She settles into a routine. I get close, tell her that I am, and she stops for a few seconds only to begin again, slowly. Three times this happens. Three times I wonder why I'm not letting her take me over.

"I got it," she says. "From now on, come if you can."

Except I can't. Twice she proves it, my cock so hard it hurts, cum an instant from ejection, my balls swollen, my body, legs, rigid.

Something else happens. I relax. She knows how I respond. I don't have to worry about inadvertently coming. Or coming at all. I can enjoy the sensations she's dredging out of me, the deep euphoria, without monitoring my arousal. In fact, I'm long past the point I'd normally come. It's as if each step takes me just a bit higher, makes my cock a bit harder, before reaching my point of no return. After a while everything between my legs aches, trembling, tingling, and I'm streaming pre-cum. But no imminent orgasm. I'm floating in a strange giddy serenity. This is what she wants me to surrender to.

So yes, I have learned something. I learned I can get high with need. A real high without the drugs. Erin induced. Erin required.

I push my arms out wide, wrists to the corners of the bed, close my eyes and say, "Don't stop, ever."

I feel her shiver. "Good man," she whispers. "That will definitely earn you a reward."

I'm brought near orgasm a few more times. Then too many to count, my brain incapable of reason. After every near miss she lets me slip just enough to begin again. It's mind-blowing. And I'm getting tired. The constant arousal, edge, is draining. I'm panting, heart racing, every muscle in my body laboring for a come that never materializes.

"I'm not sure how much I can take before..." I can't believe I'm asking her to stop. Maybe it's the time—it's past midnight, I think.

She drips cool lube on my cock, balls. I've been hard, on edge, for God knows how long. She knows my secrets, what drives me crazy, what makes me hard. Then a surprise. A finger inches under my balls, all the way south. "Yes or no?"

No one's been there. And do I have the energy for that? "I don't know." It's an odd sensation, but thrilling in its own particular way. I think she's chosen to do this now that I'm so needy I'll agree to anything, too tired to resist. "Be gentle."

The slow massage across that forbidden opening feels better than I think it should. She applies a constant pressure against me, a single finger focusing in. It's not unpleasant. Actually— She's in! I'm surprised it's so easy. No fuss. And so intimate. It's like she's not quite inside. Then is, the feeling to shoot almost unbearable, almost unstoppable. Then nothing. It passes. She moves again, pushes up, brings those sensations to an unbearable level.