He was just building up to the interesting part of his meeting with the two pharmaceutical Board members when his mobile rang. Damn! He’d forgotten to switch it off. It was her. “Don’t masturbate,” she said. “What?” It took a moment to reorganise his train of thought. “I don’t want you to cum. Not by yourself. I’ll let you cum tonight. Promise you won’t jack off in the meantime.” He’d been sorely tempted. With their lunch-hour play session still very much uppermost in his mind, he sure had some pent-up frustration to deal with. “Promise?” “Okay.” “See you downstairs at five-thirty.” The drug execs waited patiently for him to finish the call so they could continue with their pitch. Didn’t matter a damn, though. He’d been through the books and knew they didn’t have a whole lot of options. Apart from the one he was about to spring on them, that is. For the sake of form he let them drivel on a little longer before he went for closure. The delay gave him a little more time to think back fondly on having his face all buried in her pinkness. He started to crack yet another hard-on, about the sixth so far during this current meeting. He was in a heightened state of horniness. He felt so alive! When he emerged from the elevator into the lobby of the office building, he saw her waiting for him on one side. She was back wearing the floral number and high-heel pumps. Her boobs were very obvious. He started getting hard again at the mere sight of her. Struggling with his briefcase and all her shopping, he held the bundle of bags further in front to conceal any tell-tale bulge in his trousers. Didn’t fool her for a minute, though. She pecked him on the cheek and simultaneously squeezed his dick. He glanced around nervously, but fortunately no co- workers were anywhere in sight. “You been keeping your promise?” “Yep.” “Thank God it’s Friday!” she said, shouldering her carry bag and slipping her arm into his. “Let’s go have a quiet night at home.” “Sounds good” he replied, and his dick throbbed in anticipation. Standing together on the crowded uptown bus, they didn’t talk much because the things they wanted to talk about were not things they wanted overheard. She did manage to occasionally slide her hand through the bundle of shopping bags he carried, and rub the tent in his trouser front while looking silently and sexily into his eyes. She knew to draw back if he seemed in any danger of losing the plot completely. Such sweet torture! Letting themselves into his apartment, she immediately flopped into the sofa. He sat beside her. “What’s for dinner?” “I can get something delivered …” “No way! I want some more of your fabulous home cooking!” He demurred. He really just wanted to blob out. Her hand stole its way back to his prick, and began stroking through his trousers. It was almost instantly back into a full state of readiness. “Pleeeeeeezzze?” she cajoled. “Um … I’ll see what’s in the freezer.” It just so happened he had some good steaks in the freezer. And fries. And enough stuff in the veggie crisper to come up with a pretty decent salad. He got it all out on the bench top, and put the steaks in the microwave to defrost. “And one more thing.” “What?” “Take all your clothes off. Except for the necktie.” “Really?” “Really.” Her wish was his command. He got everything off and bundled it all into the laundry basket, then slung the loosened tie back around his neck. His dick stuck out before him, and never slackened to less than a half- fat. “Wine?” “No thanks, it dulls the senses. Got any orange juice?” “Sure.” She sat on a stool and watched him cook as she sipped her orange juice. Anytime he saw her eyeing his dick, it seemed to point ever more skyward in response. He tried to direct attention away from his exposure and vulnerability by making conversation. “Dulls the senses - wasn’t that Jack Nicholson’s line? Y’know, the masochist dental patient in the original “Little Shop of Horrors”?” “You seen that movie too?” “It’s a cult classic.” “It was a gas. And so obvious the actors got paid in drugs.” He set the fries a-frying, and started slicing up salad stuff. “Can you spend the night again?” “Yeah. I got some clothes packed this time.” “Will your aunt be bothered about you staying out so much?” “Nah, she’s pretty cool. She’s a lot younger than my mom, only eight years older than me. We get along real good.” “Is she married?” “Was. Now she’s “out there” again and making up for lost time. She won’t be at all upset if I don’t come home on a Friday night.” He had to stand beside her to get the frying pan out, and she took the opportunity to grasp his prick and wank him a little. He stood stock still, because it sure felt good to him. Realizing the adverse effect it was having on his productivity, she released him again after a few seconds. He timed the arrival of the fries and steak to perfection, to have both simultaneously sizzling as they sat to dine. “Does Auntie know about your particular tastes in men?” “Nope. Nobody does, ‘cept you and the other two.” “My predecessors in slavery?” “Oh, there’s a few others who have an inkling. Macho jocks who I could wheedle into letting me tie them up a little. They didn’t mind some mild kink, so long as their dicks got sucked in the process. Concerned for their own pleasure, not mine. I’d always end up dumping ‘em, ‘cos they weren’t the real thing.” “What’s the real thing?” “Someone who’s pleased to please me.” He mulled over this rather ambiguous remark as they polished off the food on their plates. Back in the living room, she rummaged in her carry bag and came up with a brightly-coloured plastic bottle. What new kink was this? She handed it to him. Ah! A bottle of bubble-bath. “Can you run a nice hot tub for me?” she asked. “Sure.” She gave him a quick smile of appreciation, and fondled his prick for a couple of seconds. This only served to render both him immobile and it very hard. She released her grip and gave him a gentle shove in the direction of the bathroom. He prepared the bath for her, making it good and hot and with a mountain of bubbles to sink down into. As he did so, he heard the opening riff for “So What?” float out of the stereo speakers in the lounge. The Miles Davis’ “Kinda Blue” re-issue. Sounds like she just discovered there was music before hip-hop. She appeared in the bathroom doorway and inspected. Everything met with her approval. “Undress me.” Hoo-boy! Move over, Miles. Her words were suddenly much better music to his ears. She turned and he ran the zipper down slowly. The dress parted down her smooth brown back, revealing unblemished, slightly-glossy skin, her bra straps, and the waistband of her panties. He glided his hands across her shoulder blades, causing the top half of the dress to slip down her arms and gather at her waist. He wondered if he dared place his hands at her narrow waist, to push the dress past her hips so it could drop to the floor. She gave no instructions, but just waited. He took the chance and did it anyway. When he felt how her waist swelled toward her hips and rounded bum as he pushed the dress downward, he could hardly stand it. The intimacy of this bare-skin contact was so excruciatingly pleasurable, he nearly came on the spot. This was despite having no other contact with her whatsoever. “I hope you’re not enjoying this too much?” “Not at all. It’s a dreadful bore.” He affected a yawn. She reached back to unerringly encircle his dick with one hand and his balls with the other. She was not very gentle about it. “I gotta warn ya. If you jizz without my say-so, there will be consequences.” He winced. “Capische.” Pleased with the tone of discomfort she’d just injected into his voice, she took her hands away. He reached up to release her bra. Damn hooks! Why can’t they design a man-friendly bra? The back-band parted suddenly under the weight of her boobs, and she shrugged it off. Now for a very delicious moment. He placed his hands flat on her hips, one either side of her round, curvy buttocks, and slowly slid her panties downward. Getting to his knees, he tugged them past each ankle as she stepped out of them. He remained on his knees, eyes glued to the round brown butt only inches before his nose. “Clean me.” “Pardon?” “You’ll have to clean me, before I get into this lovely bathwater.” To remove any doubt about what she meant by this, she leaned forward and gripped the edge of the bath. Bent over at the waist, her pink gash was presented to him most assertively. A day’s worth of mild sweat and pussy odour wafted to his nostrils. He bent forward to make delicate contact, then slowly trailed his extended tongue the full length of her slit. Then he placed his hands on each butt cheek to spread her open even wider. Concentrating at first on the zones of dark fuzz either side of her opening, he licked ever inward and began sucking the butterfly- like inner lips into his mouth. A few more minutes of this indulgence in her salty tastes was enough to thoroughly wash the whole of her sex with his tongue. “That’s good, sweetie! Now do my asshole.” He hesitated. This would be another first for him. Her puckered orifice had been right before his eyes all this while, but so far in life he’d managed to maintain a policy of “look, but don’t touch” where anal sphincters were concerned. “Please? For me?” She was looking back at him with those big soft eyes of hers, entreating him, inspiring him to more things he’d never normally consider. His reticence evaporated before her gaze, and she had to stifle the urge to giggle as he rimmed the tip of his tongue around the rosette of encircling fine black hairs. Then he slathered his way across the tight entrance, noting an initial acrid taste that soon disappeared under his ministrations. He formed his tongue into a point and tried to penetrate that tight little asshole with it, but he didn’t get very far with that. It made her squirm a bit though. Then she straightened and whirled around to stand before him, upright again. He noticed a strange light in her eyes, and when she caught sight of the sudden nervousness it engendered in his own, this light glowed even brighter. Gripping two fistfulls of his hair, she forced him to hunker down lower until his backside was against the soles of his feet and her pussy was riding up on his face. Her thighs tightened either side of his head, and she pulled on his hair to get his face harder against her. He cried out, but it only seemed to spur her on. Her hips started moving, humping, gyrating. Tongue-surfing. He didn’t resist or try to escape, but rather just went with the flow. His body was pinned in place beneath her, breathing was difficult, and her grip on his hair was hurting like hell. But after a time his mind began floating, as if released into space. It seemed to him almost like the beginnings of an out-of- body experience, a prelude to being snuffed out and drifting across some kind of divide. He was a passive witness to her orgasm when it finally arrived, managing to keep his tongue extended and able to draw the occasional breath, but otherwise inert, ethereal. He was snapped out of this reverie by her eventual dismount from his face. “Thanks, honey.” She stepped into the bath and settled down amongst the cloud of bubbles. “Ahhhhh!!! That’s better!” He remained on the floor, sitting right down on the cold tiles and leaning against the wall by the door. He couldn’t see much of her anymore, only her face and shoulders. She lay back in a throne of bubbles, looking for all the world like the Queen of Sheba. He sat back and wondered about the experience he’d just been through. It was weird, yet gentling. Meanwhile, back in the tangible world, his dick throbbed and twitched. He badly wanted to be able to cum. Miles eased into “All Blues”, and she closed her eyes to listen a while. “This sounds nice. Very spacey. Suits my mood right now.” Amazingly he could still think clearly enough to contribute to a discussion on musical appreciation. “It’s only the most popular jazz album of all time.” “I’ve heard the other one before, the rap one I played here the other night. Only thing I recognised in your whole collection. If not for that CD, I wouldn’t even know who Miles Davis was.” “What’d you think of it?” “The beat’s good. But all those notes go right over my head.” “It’s just blues, really.” “Blues??? Ya mean, that old slave music?” “My goodness! At least one of us here knows your musical heritage!” “What the fuck do you know about my musical heritage?” “Sorry. I’m spoiling the ambiance.” “You got that right!” They lapsed into silence. “How’s your cock?” “Suffering.” “Good.” It was uncanny how, no matter which way the conversation twisted and turned, with a single remark she could bring him right back down to size. Remind him who was calling the shots around here. She remained soaking like that for another ten minutes. Starting to feel giddy with heat, she arose from the depths like a Cleopatra. “You may dry me.” He’d already selected his thickest, most fluffy towel, and as she stepped out he ran it everywhere over her body to eliminate soap bubbles and water drips. She glowed. Her tits wobbled and shook as she moved. Satisfied with his attention over her, she moved past him to get her bag, and then went to his bedroom. He followed, turning the lighting down lower and pulling back the covers for her. She indicated that he should lie down on his back. His ankles got bound by a webbing noose that looped through the foot of the bed. One arm was restrained right to the headboard itself. The other was given a lot more slack, so he could reach down to his dick but not across to the other bonds. She knelt down and got across him, straddling his thighs. Absolutely naked. Chocolatey. Curvey. Delicious. “You must want to cum pretty bad by now.” “Yes.” “I bet you’d like me to fuck you.” “Yes.” “I’m not gonna. But you can play with yourself, if you want.” He did want. He immediately seized his erect prick with the one hand that’d been permitted some freedom of movement, and got it moving vigorously. She watched him do this for about twenty seconds. “Now stop.” “What?” His hand was still a blur. “STOP!” He stopped. It took a super-human effort. “Why?” “Because I asked you to.” “Will you let me cum?” “Eventually.” He was getting desperate. It had been building all day. “I did what you asked today. I didn’t jack off. You said I could cum tonight.” “You can. But not yet.” “Why not?” “First, I wanna see you squirm. I wanna hear you beg.” “Jesus! Don’t you owe me some satisfaction by now?” “I don’t owe you nuthin’. This ain’t about your fun, remember? Just only mine.” “But …” “Those are my terms. Quit whining, or I’ll go home.” His hand had snuck back to his rock-hard dick again, but he daren’t move it just yet. “What if I just carry on wanking, and to hell with you!” Ooooh! she thought. Mutiny! Trouble below deck! “Then I’ll squeeze your balls ‘til your eyes water.” He found this argument persuasive, and wisely kept his hand still. “Why be so mean to me? What do you get out of it?” “This.” She took his hand firmly away from his dick, ooched herself up closer, and rubbed it against her tush. Then she bent his arm back until his fingers could reach his nostrils. “Can you smell how wet I am?” He certainly could. “Can you find it in your heart to stop arguing and just do what I ask, knowing how horny its gonna make me?” He nodded. There was that gleam in her eye again. The fire of a lust that had to be sated. And it had to be done her way, not his way. “Play with yourself!” she commanded. He did so instantly, stroking himself to a climax he hoped would arrive before any further interruption. “Stop!” Oh shit! He’d been about another five strokes from tripping his trigger. Could she read some kind of a pressure dial in his eyes, or something? He could keep them closed to deny her that information, but that would deny him the sight of her sitting up on him, heavy breasts swinging and jiggling with every little movement, the fabulous points of her dark nipples aimed at his face. She leaned forward and adjusted the sliding tensioner on the webbing until his wanking arm was just as tightly restrained as the other one. Then she slid sideways to straddle a single leg, so that her moist gash was riding directly on his thigh. These new arrangements left him with no way to stimulate himself. “You must be really ready to cum now.” “Yes!” He was starting to tremble, and practically whimpered his reply. This kind of desperation always got her hot. He looked so sexy at that moment, tied and helpless. All frantic now, and entirely because he’d complied with everything she’d asked of him. Who said chivalry was dead? She encircled his cock snugly with thumb and forefinger, just behind its head. This was like throwing a straw to a drowning man. His hips jerked, trying to thrust through her grip. Except that her weight upon his upper thighs limited the traverse of his pelvis, restricting the amplitude of his urgent fuck motions. Her encirclement of him was just enough to provide some degree of sensation. She calculated he should now be able to make himself cum, though it wouldn’t be easy. He’d have to strain every sinew. Really sweat for it. She loved every minute of his struggle. His labours were sufficient to grind his leg against her juicy channel each time he vainly jerked. A process she assisted by pushing back to meet each tiny thrust. But it was still not enough to bring him to the brink of the orgasm he so badly desired. Anytime he did succeed in getting his foreskin rolling just right, she’d slacken her grip to lessen the sensation again. Meanwhile, her own sensations were building nicely. “Tell me how badly you want to come.” “Badly! I can’t stand it!” “You don’t sound desperate enough.” This was not at all true. “Please! If I don’t shoot soon, I’m gonna die!” She was loving his reactions to this torture. He was struggling vainly to cum. Desperate, in a heroic sort of way. Not at all pathetic. Just as well, because she despised pathos. This, on the other hand, was a truly enobling sight. Such labours, such trials on her behalf! She lost control of herself as her orgasm struck. She had to release his dick from her grasp and throw out an arm, to stop herself from falling over. This left him thrashing his hips pointlessly into thin air as she rode his leg like a bronco. Her climax was a real beauty, one of the best, and several times she groaned long and low until it was over. Coming to her senses, she could see that his need was no less urgent, even as hers was dissipating. She felt suddenly proud of him, and thought it right to grant him at least one small favor. Sliding her body back down toward the foot of the bed, she got up on her hands and knees. Heavy breasts brushed the tops of his thighs. With one hand she held his cock straight up like a flagpole. Her face descended excruciatingly slowly until she had about two inches of it inside her mouth, but without yet letting it touch anything. He stared in helpless fascination at this tableaux of fellatio, his cock in her mouth and her big eyes looking lustfully into his. As a visual stimulus it was beyond anything else he’d ever dreamed of. In the all-important tactile sense it was rather lacking, unless you counted the rush of her hot breath. Slowly, deliberately, she relaxed her gaping jaw and full pouting lips to close in on him with a hot velvet that enveloped him completely. She applied suction as she pulled her lips back to its tip, then slowly sank down along his shaft again. And that was it. He literally exploded. It was big. So big it blew his mind. The force of it was just something else, such incredible release, like a dam had just burst. It made a hell of a mess. She couldn’t hold all that he expelled, and it leaked and gushed from her mouth even before he’d stopped shooting. To her credit she kept on fellating until his pulsations had completely subsided, but no way could she keep all of that lot in. She kept most of it, though. Scooting up his torso with cum running down her chin, she was able to give him her by-now trademark sloppy kiss. If she could choose a musical accompaniment for a moment like this, it might be “Return to sender!” She quickly released his bonds and snuggled down beside him, finally sated. He too was now satisfied at last, though his balls had already begun a dull ache from having come so hard. “Well sweetie, your first blow-job from me! How’d ya like it?” “Didn’t really count as a blow-job, didn’t last long enough.” “Baby, that’s hardly my fault!” ”Just kidding! It was fantastic. The most intense climax I can remember.” “Why, thank you!” She basked in his praise for a few moments. “I think ‘cos you delayed it so long. It intensified it, somehow. I never thought to try that before.” “We got lots of stuff to try.” “You make me nervous by saying that. But also a little intrigued.” “Only a little?” “I gotta be honest. I don’t like some of the stuff you do to me. But I like what it does to you.” “Honey, that’s so sweet! I truly believe you may be starting to get it.” “Get what?” “What makes me tick.”