Attention Please!

[This follow-up to "Attention, please!" was written as a result of reader requests. I hope it meets expectations.]

I awaken to the feel of your arm around my waist and the sound of someone knocking at your door. We can't have been napping for long, and I make a protesting noise as you move to get up from the bed.

"Shhhh," you say, and run a hand along my flank. "I'll get the door and be back before you know it."

I hug my pillow to me and curl up a bit more, bringing my legs closer to my chest. It is cool in the room without you, and I wish for a brief moment that I was under the covers before sinking back into slumber again.

I awaken to your hands on me, pressing me onto my back, and your mouth on my nipple. I gasp and jolt as your tongue teases it, sending pulses of pleasure through me. I thread my fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck and press you to me, and when I do, you shiver and moan. You relinquish my nipple and I whimper.

"Don't stop," I say.

"You want more?" you ask. Your fingers tweak my left nipple firmly.

My eyes fly open and I stare into yours. "Oh yes, please," I ask nicely and then arch my back a little, trying to get my nipple closer to your mouth.

You smile in amusement. I am so transparent when I'm aroused. "You were very naughty, earlier," you tell me. "I think you deserve a little more punishment."

Another squeeze of my nipple, this time harder.

My attention is focussed entirely on that nub of flesh being rolled between your fingers. The pressure sends zing after zing of excitement racing down my belly to my clit, making me writhe. I am dissolving into the pleasure of the moment, and the thought of 'a little more punishment' heightens it.

"Mmmmhmmmm..." I purr my my consent.

"Close your eyes," you command. And I do.

Cloth is folded over my eyes. I lift my head so you can tie it. Your weight shifts off the bed. I hear the sound of a drawer opening, the rip of a condom package, and in a moment your weight is back on the bed, the warmth of your body pressing against me. You take my hand in yours and place something in it. At first I am perplexed by the shape and texture, but when it starts vibrating, I know what it is. Our favorite vibrating dildo with the obligatory condom on it.

"Touch yourself, and keep your legs wide, so I can watch," you instruct me, and again, I obey.

With a sigh I move my left hand to my clit, and with my right I tease myself with the dildo, sliding it along the cleft between my legs, already moist. I sigh voluptuously, my toes curling as I press the vibrator into me. "Like this?" I ask.

You grunt and shift off the bed.

"Don't go!" I beg, reaching blindly for you with my left hand. I feel so cold without you near.

"Then, don't stop," you growl from the foot of the bed. The floor creaks as you move around. I hear the sound of water running, of another condom wrapper being opened. It occurs to me to wonder what you are doing, but for just a moment, because what I am doing feels so damned good.

You return to the bed, and leaning above me, begin to torment my breasts. You know how sensitive they are, especially the nipples. You know how to stimulate those points of erectile tissue, how to bring me to orgasm with your fingers and your mouth. And for my punishment you bring me there to the edge again and again, but stop just short of doing what it takes to push me over. My frustration builds. Soon I am sliding the dildo in and out of me, and my fingers are flying on my clit. I want to come. I need to come. I focus my attention there, there, on that place where the dildo is pressing, just a few inches inside me. I cross my legs, my thighs cord, my body starts to arch--and you pull my hands away.

I fight to get control of my hands back so I can make myself come, but you are holding my wrists very firmly. "Damnit! That isn't fair!" I yell.

"You should have thought of that before you leaned over my desk and started masturbating while I was on the phone," you growl back.

The fight goes out of me. I stop resisting and let my arms go limp. "Pleeease, sweetie. Please. I need to come."

You chuckle. "Do you want a nice hard cock inside you?"

I raise my mouth to where I know yours is, and I kiss you, sucking on your bottom lip, scraping it with my teeth. I want you, and I pump as much feeling into that kiss as I can, hoping that you will give me what I want.

You break the kiss, keeping your mouth near mine so your breath fans my face. "Do you want a nice hard cock inside you?" you ask again, intimately, suggestively.

"Yes," I moan and press my mouth to yours, hard. "Yesss."

You are off the bed in a moment, and then your hands seize my feet, pulling me toward the end of the mattress, until my ass is just barely over the edge. You drop my feet and I bend my knees, pressing the soles of my feet into the floor. Still blindfolded, I spead my knees wide, anticipating the aforementioned 'nice hard cock.' A hand presses into me, opening me, and then I feel it, I feel what I want. I force myself to relax, expecting the initial discomfort that your thickness always brings, but you slide into me with relative ease, and press forward, deep into me, deeper than I am used to. It makes me flinch and whimper a bit, this unexpected depth. You press into me and give a bouncing thrust and then you moan--but its not your voice, its not you moaning, it is someone else!

"What the hell?" I shout, and you are on me all of a sudden, straddling my chest. My hands lift to tear off the blindfold and I get it partially off before you capture my wrists.

Someone, whoever it is, starts pulling slowly out of me and I try to close my thighs against him, but he thrusts forward, pressing deeply, too deeply. And it hurts, because he's too long, because I'm tense, because I don't want him inside me, this uninvited stranger. He sucks in his breath between his teeth and moans again, his fingers digging into my hips as he grinds against me.

I feel like my blood has turned to ice water as a cold rage floods me. "Who is it?" I demand between clenched teeth. "You son of a bitch! What the hell kind of game is this!?"

"Its your punishment," you say, smiling down at me, pinning my wrists on either side of my head. "And its the nice hard cock you said you wanted."

I raise my legs to kick whoever the hell it is and start fighting you in earnest.

"Hey!" says the man between my legs, "I thought you said she would go for this."

I freeze. I know that voice.

I glare up at you with the one uncovered eye. "Stephen?" I hiss at you, half-incredulously.

"Yes," you grin wickedly at me. "Stephen. He's the one I was talking to when you pulled your little stunt. And seeing as you've been fantasizing about him for years..." You shift so my wrists are in one of your hands, then you slip the blindfold the rest of the way off my head.

You lean forward to kiss me and as you do, I think of several possible reactions. I consider butting you in the nose with my head. I consider spitting in your face. I consider clawing your eyes out. I consider biting your lip until it bleeds. But Stephen's hands caress my hips and run down along the underside of my thighs. It feels good, the touch of his hands, and I relax a bit, visualizing his tanned skin contrasting sharply with mine, which is so pale. His hands slide up my inner thighs and my skin pebbles, my nipples harden. When your lips touch mine, I kiss you, hard, and moan into your mouth.

Stephen. Mmmm. Something about your friend has always been deeply attractive to me. Partly his voice, partly his hands, partly that close-trimmed mustache and beard that inevitably has me fantasizing about riding his face. That, and his love for H. L. Mencken, Mark Twain, and Hunter S. Thompson -- Stephen has such a marvellous sense of humour.

You turn your head to look over your shoulder. "Don't stop," you tell him.

Stephen's hands tighten on my thighs. "Not until she tells me its ok," he asserts.

I mouth the word 'condom' at you and you nod. I take a deep breath, and in a heartbeat, make up my mind. "Its ok, Stephen. Just please... not so deep."

I wait until he is situated between my thighs again, until he has again begun his long, slow gliding, until he has placed his thumb against my clit and begun massaging it rhythmically, and then I take your shaft in my hand and pull. You lean forward on your hands and knees and spread your thighs until the head of your cock bumps against my lips, smearing them with precome. I open my mouth, darting my tongue out to collect the clear fluid, and moan. God, you taste good.

I open wider and take the head of your cock into my mouth, massaging the knob on the underside with my tongue. You suck your breath in between your teeth and let it out on a long, shuddering groan. Your thighs flex and you rock forward, pressing a couple of inches deeper, then sliding back. I relax my jaw and slip my hands around your thighs, pressing my palms flat against the cheeks of your ass.

When my fingers curl into the crack of your ass and begin teasing the opening there, Stephen gives me a deep jab. My nostrils flare as I suck in air and moan deeply. My body rocks as he picks up the pace, thrusting into me with greater urgency. His thumb slips down to where his cock slides into me, then back up again, bringing more moisture with which to massage my clit. On a backstroke you pull all the way out of my mouth. I make a protesting noise and you shift position, leaning down to kiss me.

"I want to watch this," you say, and then your thighs are gone, no longer straddling my chest, and there is Stephen, plain as day, his brow furrowed and his eyes closed, pumping away. I raise a hand to flick one of his flat little nipples and he opens his eyes with a gasp.

"Hiya stranger," I say, and do a Kegel flex for effect.

His eyes open wider and he moans. I lean up on my elbows so I can see better, so I can watch him sliding in and out of me. I love being shaved bare because it feels so wonderful, so soft and smooth, but it also makes watching fun. He is so brown compared to me, evidence of the weekends and evenings spent out in his boat on the Columbia River. I lift my legs and wrap them around his waist, enjoying the contrast of colour, the way my skin seems to glow against his.

I lay back down on the bed and I can see you kneeling just above my head, stroking yourself, your eyes fixed upon the place where Stephen and I are joined. Avidly, you watch him slide in and out of me, your hand fisted around your shaft, the head of your cock glistening with pre-come. Near your calf is the dildo I was using earlier, a slender, vibrating toy with a curved tip good for stimulating my clit, or my G-spot, or your prostate.

I reach for it and put it in my mouth to moisten it. It tastes like me and a condom. Of the two flavours, I like the way I taste much better. I summon moisture into my mouth as I lay there, my body lengthening as the delicious friction of Stephen's cock and thumb work their magic upon me. Once I've gotten it coated with saliva I pull it out of my mouth and turn it on.

"Spread 'em," I tell you, and with practiced ease, you sit back on your heels and use them to spead your buttocks wide enough for me to play with your ass. When the vibrator touches the little opening there, you gasp, and a droplet of precome forms a pendulum that slowly swings downward until it lands on my forehead. I press, you relax, and the dildo slides in half an inch, making you shudder. Your cock jerks and your hand slides forward, clenching below the head, trying to prevent an orgasm. Your response is a total turnon for me, and I flex my vaginal muscles without conscious thought.

"Oh god..." I hear Stephen groan. I look down my body at him to find him staring at my hand pressing the dildo into you. This time I focus on the feel of him sliding into me and clench my muscles around him as he slides out. When he pushes in again, I tighten my thighs, pulling him in deeper, making it impossible for him to do more than jab at me. I start bucking my hips against him, flexing and releasing my vaginal muscles, pushing myself toward orgasm. He groans and leans forward over me and starts stabbing into me. He is going so deep, too deep, but it hurts good, making me gasp.

I press the dildo deeper into you and it is your turn to gasp. You moan deep in your chest and your body vibrates with tension. I can see the skin on your thighs pebble, making the fine hairs there stand out from your body. You freeze and hold your breath and then suddenly, suddenly you are in convulsive motion as you lose the battle of mind over body. Your breath catches and you cry out and you are gone, shooting arcs of come out over my body, splattering Stephen's chest.

Poor Stephen. His mouth opens and a sound emerges from him that must have originated somewhere in the vicinity of his toes. His hands slip up to grab my hips and he thrusts wildly into me, making me cry out. Pleasure. Pain. Pleasure. Pain. Ow ow ow. Oooohhh. And then we are both coming. I let go of the dildo because I don't want to hurt you. I dig the fingernails of my left hand into the denim fabric of the bedspread, and sink my teeth into my right wrist, wailing for all I'm worth as I climax. It rolls through me, and no sooner does it pass than another one rises and washes over me like the tide, rocking me again and again, leaving me jolting from aftershocks and wondering when Stephen had collapsed on me, his chest heaving, his head lolling against my ribs.

I unwrap my trembling legs from around his waist and tangle my fingers in his hair instead. I lean my head toward his ear, but I am looking at you, laying there on your side, running your fingers along your chest, wearing nothing more than a self-satisfied grin.

"You can punish me anytime," I murmur, and then I let my head fall back, bouncing against the mattress.

I stretch myself out along the bed, feeling languid and sated. I haven't felt this well-used in a long time, I acknowledge. And to think that all I had to do was masturbate in front of you when you were on the phone with someone else.

Hmm...

I thumb through your list of friends and acquaintances in my mind.

I wonder...