Hayley And Her Good Girl Sammy 03

Before I can respond to her taunting, Hayley moves.

Fast.

Her fingers curl into the fabric of my sweater, gripping tight as she yanks me forward and then she kisses me.

Fiercely.

It's not hesitant or careful but a raw and reckless abandonment. Her body language signalling her wants and desires, waiting for this moment. Now she refuses to waste even a second, her tongue tangles with mine in a flourishing dance. Saliva thick and heavy.

I'm a very happy boy. So happy that it starts to make me wonder, to question... is it okay to keep going so fast?

Ignore the thought you stupid idiot. Stop thinking about it.

My thoughts shift to the sensation of a breeze on my bare skin, oh. Oh. A skirt. No pants, just legs.

Is it bad that I like the way my legs look in this? No. Maybe. I don't even know anymore. Stop. Just focus on Hayley.

Stay grounded I remind myself.

My hands find her waist and I navigate us towards her bed, the fire inside flaring. I need her desperately. I have to feel her again but this time I want to feel the depth of her tight cunt with my manly wood and feast on her lusciousness.

I kiss her back, ravenous. Like a starving man or a lustful beast, I can't tell the difference. All I know is I want to devour every inch of Hayley, savour every fine, delectable morsel of her.

Now a new concern rises, the silence between us thickens. It pulls us into a silent agreement, it was impossible to resist whatever was tethering us together. I wondered if it was the red string of fate or that so called "soul mate" connection.

Fuck this isn't enough. I can't wait for the new experiences, sensations, and pleasures she has in store for me.

Looking back, a pattern starts to emerge. I haven't felt this happy in a while and in every moment she's been there. It blows my fucking mind that she chooses to be here, how she sees something in me worth her time. I must have stellar karma.

I push against her, feeling the sharp hitch in her breath, the erratic rhythm of her pulse beneath my fingertips. She doesn't pull away but instead matches my intensity.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging sharply. Her perfectly pink nails graze against the back of my neck. It's possessive, almost brutal in its intensity.

A low moan escapes before I can stop it, an involuntary betrayal of control. Shame coils in my gut, because yes, it felt so fucking good. But worse than that, it was an instinctive, helpless response to her.

We fall for a brief moment before I press her gently into the mattress.

I inhale without thinking... without choice. She smells divine. Clean, familiar, like something I've always known but never had. No perfume, no pretense, just her.

And it's intoxicating.

"How can you be so perfect?" I murmur, my voice rough against her lips.

She pulls back just enough to meet my view, her lashes flickering. Before I can process it, she's moving and flipping us over.

I'm flat on my back, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. Before I can recover, she's already on top of me, straddling me like a conqueror claiming her spoils. I deflate beneath her.

I stare up at her, dazed, utterly wrecked.

Gazing back up at her, I feel stunned.

Her eyes fixate on me with a victorious gleam. It's a pure, elegant savagery laying beneath the surface of her being. Hair tumbling in wild waves around her face. And that grin is somehow more wicked, sharp and more seductive than usual. She's giving off an exultant air about her, like a predator reveling in the moment, like a cat presenting its prey, daring me to challenge her reign. And--

Wait.

Is that--?

I bite my lip. There, just barely visible as she tilts her chin downward, there lives a tiny, soft double chin. And I suspect she has no idea it's there.

Oh my gosh, if she knew, she'd die on the spot.

But it's P E R F E C T. And mine.

She's imperfectly perfect; utterly unpredictable, caring, frustrating, a little sadistic, and yet somehow... she's the only thing that feels right.

How the fuck did I get swept up with her?

My anxieties begin to swell inside me again, dark and suffocating, curling around my ribs like a vice.

Then Hayley blindsides me with an unexpected question.

"How far have you gone with a girl, Sam? Have you had sex yet?"

Her words rip me out of my thoughts like a meteorite striking earth, sudden and shocking.

I squirm, my brain scrambling for a response. "Uh."

Her brow quirks, amusement flickering behind those sharp, knowing eyes. She's enjoying this.

I clear my throat, forcing myself to sound composed. "I mean, I've had a few casual dates before..."

She just stares, waiting. Expecting more.

I swallow, heat creeping up my neck. "But they weren't exactly... successful. I mean, I've been with girls before, sure, but--" I exhale, the words tangling on my tongue. "There's room for improvement. And I'm very, um... keen to learn."

The confession hits heavier than I expected. Heat crawls up my neck as I shift us into a slightly more seated position. I attempt to turn this into something romantic, like pressing our foreheads together.

Except I misjudge the distance.

And I bonk her with tremendous force.

She lets out a sharp inhale, wincing as she touches the sore spot.

Oh shit. Panic flares in my chest. I reach for her instinctively. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, I was just--"

Her glaring sharpens. No hesitation. No warning.

She headbutts me back.

Harder.

Stars explode behind my eyelids.

"FUCK."

She exhales in satisfaction. "There. Now we're even."

I groan, rubbing my forehead. "What the hell."

But she doesn't answer. Instead, she leans in, her lips a breath away, her voice dropping to something dangerously soft. "You're not lying to me, right?" A whisper, a razor's edge. "I really hope you're not lying to me."

My stomach knots and kneads itself into oblivion. Her fingers skim down my jaw, tilting my chin up with a confident touch.

Her gaze flickers, reading me with eerie precision. Like she knows me so well and is enjoying my unravelling.

A slow grin tugs the corner of her mouth. "Guess what my Sammy dear?" she whispers to me.

"What Mistress Hayley?" I play along.

"You're so pretty Sam. So beautiful with and without the mask."

I blush hard not knowing if she's playing with me and joking around or being honest. I don't fucking know how to process my feelings in this situation. No one calls me pretty or beautiful, in fact since I'm a man aren't I supposed to take offence but that doesn't feel right either... But I'm supposed to be big, tough, handsome and manly...

Her eyes search for mine, as if sensing my distractions. "Hanging out with you is just so easy. I always have a fun time with you."

I hope she's genuine because I melt.

It's ridiculous how her words can unravel me so easily. My head still throbs from the headbutt, but I don't care.

Hayley shifts again, swift and deliberate, lowering herself until her weight presses into my chest. She sprawls across me, languid and unfazed, like a cat curling into its owner's lap. The thought surprises me, and a startled sound slips from my lips. My arms instinctively tighten around her, as if trying to keep her there.

She sighs, completely at ease. "You're surprisingly comfy, Sam."

I scoff, half-laughing despite myself. "You just headbutted me, and now you're using me as a damn pillow?"

She presses in closer, her breath warm against my skin. "Way to state the obvious."

I blink down at her, momentarily disoriented.

Her eyes lock with mine and her gaze is unflinching, like she's studying something beneath my surface.

The silence thickens, heavy and suffocating. Her stare sharpens, a subtle intensity building between us.

She breaks the quiet, her voice low and teasing. "What are you gonna do about it?"

I should push her off. I should complain, fake frustration, but the words die in my throat.

I smirk, the urge to challenge her surging within me. "Oh, don't worry. I'll think of something."

Her lips curve into a sly smile as her fingers trace idle circles on my chest. "Mm. That's cute. Thinking you can do something, anything really." She purposefully plays it cool and shrugs it off, an attempt to provoke I'm sure.

Before I can retort, she lifts her head up enough to meet my eye. In a sultry yet innocent voice she gently states, "I was just asking the question in case this was your first time," she muses, dragging the words out, savoring them. "Like losing your virginity. Buuut if it's not... I guess I don't have to put as much effort into it."

My brain short-circuits.

Immediate, paralyzing panic.

My heart slams into my ribs. My breath stutters. The room suddenly feels too warm.

"I--I--"

The words get stuck between my lungs and my mouth. My palms start to sweat. My ears burn. Where did horny me go? She had truly leashed the beast that presented itself to her.

Hayley watches my meltdown with a slow, wicked grin. I knew teasing her was another mistake but I couldn't resist.

Struggling to respond, but my chest tightens. The lightheadedness creeps in. I don't even know what I'm supposed to say. My mind is blank, my body is betraying me, and--

She shifts, resting her chin on my chest, and gazes carefully.

"Breathe, Sammy," she murmurs, voice softer now, thumb rubbing slow, grounding circles into my skin.

I exhale shakily.

"I--I lied," I admit, my voice small. "I technically haven't had sex yet... not from a lack of trying."

A beat of silence.

Hayley doesn't move. Doesn't laugh. Instead, she exhales, something unreadable flickering across her face.

Then--

She flicks my forehead.

I wince. "Ow! What was that for?"

"For lying to me," she says simply. "And before you start, omission is lying."

I open my mouth to argue, but she presses a finger to my lips, silencing me.

"You will be punished," she states matter-of-factly, eyes gleaming. "But... not today."

My heart stumbles over itself. "Punished?"

She grins but doesn't elaborate. Instead, she shifts her weight, propping herself up on her elbows so she's hovering over me again. "You should know by now, Sammy. I always do things my own way in my own time."

I gulp.

She watches me for a long moment. Then, surprisingly, her expression softens.

"You're in good hands," she murmurs, brushing a stray curl from my forehead. "I'll make sure your first is good for you, so be grateful." A slow, devilish smile.

I shudder.

"Is there anything in particular you've always wanted to try?" Her voice is low, dangerous. "Speak now, or hold your tongue, little one."

The air crackles.

I feel it. The shift. The electricity winding tight.

It's magnificent, almost unbearable in its weight. My pulse pounds in my throat. My breath turns shallow. Nerves scrape against my bones, sharp and unrelenting, yet an animalistic thrill keeps me tethered, hungry.

She's changed, too.

Hayley-- Can I call h e r my Hayley? --has always been bold and confident. A free spirit seemingly untamable.

But this? This is something else entirely. It's something feral. It's wild, primal, untamed, and achingly beautiful.

It's as if she's on edge, barely holding herself back. Her stare holds a challenge.

She wants to devour me whole.

My body makes a failing attempt to move. I reach for her, but there's something in the way she watches me. It keeps me frozen, not out of fear--

no, never that.

It's something else.

She leans in, the space between us vanishing, her breath a ghost against my lips. My eyelids flutter, anticipation curling tight in my stomach.

"Well?" she murmurs, her fingers tracing the edge of my jaw.

I should say something.

"You shouldn't worry." Her voice is velvet and steel, a dangerous promise wrapped in good intentions. "I have very good control of myself most of the time. I admit, you've been a little challenging for me... but it's going to be worth all the excitement. I promise."

Her fingers tighten on my shoulders, grounding me, caging me.

I don't know what to make of it, the way she watches me, her gaze heavy with something dark and unreadable, yet softened at the edges by those damn puppy dog eyes. Like she doesn't know what to do with me sometimes.

I release a slow breath, willing my heartbeat to calm.

"Can I have a little kiss while I pull myself together?" My voice is quiet, almost hesitant, like I'm asking for something impossibly delicate. My fingers barely skim over her wrists, featherlight, as if even the touch might be too bold.

It hits her like a sunrise.

Her pupils dilate, lips parting slightly as if she's momentarily stunned like she hadn't expected that.

She exhales sharply, then lets out a breathy chuckle.

"You're brave, mouse," she murmurs. "But I'm happy to oblige... willing prey."

Damn it, I just adjusted my skirt without thinking.

She kisses me, murmuring against my lips, "I hope you're ready for me to be your first because I'm going to take it right here and now. Get naked for me."

I fumble getting my clothes off, awkwardly manoeuvring my body underneath her. I get down to my boxers.

"That's plenty good enough. Stay in that state," she purrs.

I nod automatically, my brain still catching up. "Okay, Hayley."

The moment the words leave my mouth, I realise my mistake. Her expression shifts instantly, eyelids lowering, lips pressing together in a slow, knowing smirk. But it's the glare that gets me. It's sharp and expectant. My stomach drops.

"You didn't address me correctly, Sammy." Her voice is deceptively sweet, like honey laced with something dangerous. "What is it? Say it. Five times."

My pulse is hammering. "M-Mistress Hayley." The words feel foreign on my tongue, but I obey. "Mistress Hayley. Mistress Hayley. Mistress Hayley. Mistress Hayley."

I swear I hear her exhale in satisfaction. My face burns.

"Good girl Sammy, just an obedient girl for Mistress," she croons, and I'm suddenly very aware of how little control I feel I have at this moment.

The amusement in her eyes is downright sinful but I can't get enough of her. My cock twitching awake again.

"A little stiff there, Sammy," Hayley hums, tapping her fingers against my tented underwear.

"When addressing me, you're supposed to sound natural. Not like you're reciting the Pledge of Allegiance."

I gulp. "I--"

She cuts me off with a tsk, lips curving. "Don't interrupt me, let me finish. Try again for Mistress. This time, say it like you mean it."

I don't move. Don't breathe. My brain is fully fried.

She leans in closer, her breath warm against my ear. "Unless, of course, you'd like to disappoint me?"

A shiver rolls down my spine. I force myself to speak, but my voice cracks embarrassingly. "Mistress Hayley."

She sighs dreamily. "That's a little better." Then she taps her chin, as if pondering something. "But I think you can do so much better than that, don't you?"

I nod. I don't trust my voice.

She grins. "Good. Because I'd hate to think my sweet little Sammy doesn't take me seriously."

I nearly combust on the spot but complete the task better this time.

"Good job parrot," she says with a wicked grin.

Hayley smirks as she watches me struggle for words, her fingers tapping thoughtfully against her chin. "You know, Sammy, if you're going to keep up with me, you'll need to learn a lot more about female bodies."

I swallow hard. "I--um. I mean, I know some things."

She raises a perfectly arched brow. "Oh? Do you?" There's mischief in her eyes, the kind that makes my stomach twist in anticipation. "Alright then, tell me. What do you know about the female body?"

My mouth opens. Then closes. I blink. My brain scrambles for an answer, but every single bit of knowledge I thought I had evaporates under her stare.

Hayley snorts, shaking her head. "That's what I thought."

"No, I do know things, I know they menstruate monthly--" I pause. What the fuck am I even saying right now?

She leans in, and suddenly, the air shifts. My pulse jumps when her fingers trail up my arm, slow and deliberate. "The female body is a work of art," she purrs, tracing the vein on my wrist with a feather-light touch. "Delicate in some places, strong in others. Everyone reacts differently. And if you really want to make a woman happy..." Her voice drops, thick with something I can't quite name. "You need to know her intimately well."

I let out a shaky sound. "Educate me Mistress."

She grins. "With joy," and climbs into my lap like a house cat that belongs there. My brain ceases functioning entirely.

"Sammy pay attention to me, I'm telling you important things. A woman's orgasm is an extremely pleasurable experience. I love orgasming to improve my mood or relieve stress in general... would you like to be trained to assist me?"

"Yes Mistress Hayley," I reply.

"Hmm I think I want you to beg a little better for the position." There it is, her more sadistic smile and I've fallen for the trap.

"Y-yes Mistress Hayley. Pretty please train me up to be the bestest boygirl so I can serve you well."

She smiled gleefully and appeared to struggle containing herself.

"How should I go about describing this... let's call them stages."

She looks at me for approval so I nod, having no clue why.

"Stage 1, build up the excitement. I want you to keep adding to my arousal, help me spark something. Stage 2 is the plateau where the arousal increases and levels off. Try to hold out and not cum too early during this stage. You don't want to disappoint the women you may be with, including me. Then there's stage 3, my personal favourite, the orgasm. Our bodies will work together and align perfectly for me to reach my big fat O. Stage 4 is the resolution or come down phase. The arousal slowly diminishes and the partner should look at aftercare" she pauses to catch her breath.

"Wow, that was a lot of words in a short period. You should now begin touching me," she declares, guiding my hands to rest on her waist. "Touch and attention is everything. Some places are extra sensitive." Her grip tightens, silently urging me to explore, to feel.

I obey. My fingers skim over her, tracing the curve of her hip, the warmth of her skin beneath the fabric of her shirt. Hayley hums in approval. I can feel my cock at the brim, waiting to be unleashed from its cotton sheath.

"See? You're a fast learner."

"You're a good teacher," I rasp, my face burning.

She laughs, but there's a dangerous glint in her eye. "Oh, baby girl. We're just getting started."

I feel how soft her skin is and she must like it since many goosebumps appear.

"Take my shirt off," she demands.

I don't hesitate to assist, raising the clothing off her gorgeous body. What I find underneath delights me.

"Orgasms occur due to sexual stimulation, try playing with my nipples," she suggests.

I lean into her bosom and rest there a moment before looking at her breasts close up. They were pillowy soft and squishy. I held one in my hand and gently squeezed to see what reactions that would cause. Then I brushed my finger over her bud which started off as a soft circular mound and had become aroused stiff peaks.

This time her face showed less calm and I felt joy. I liked breaking through her mask even if only a little.

I get my other hand involved so I'm touching both breasts now. I am in a trance during this magical coming of age moment. I tease her pink buds and get a few gasps to escape from her lips, she's trying desperately to restrain and sound but failing. Her breathing has become more haggard.

I want to suck them. I lean closer and lick her nipple as a tease and tester. Her nipples get harder. Her moans are very cute. I lick again and again until it's thoroughly wet before paying more attention to the other nipple, making sure to follow the same procedure. She deserves my current teasing, to suffer a tiny bit literally under my thumb. Her body reacts deliciously.