Words, words, words
The homeless man trying to nap on the platform gave her a curious look when she failed to get on the third consecutive train that passed by. She stood back against the wall, out of the rush of commuters trying not to look anxious, like she was waiting for someone. She held a trade paperback loosely in her hands and tried to concentrate on draining her face of any trace of expectation. Suddenly, he was beside her. They had only met in person once before, but she knew without looking that it was him. He was standing a fraction of an inch too close to be a stranger and she remembered his scent. Plus he had the sexiest hands she'd seen in a long time: strong and cuffed by a heavy watch. She could no more stifle the smile that slid across her lips than slow down the butterflies banging about her rib-cage. But, she remembered the rules to this game: no speaking. So while her heart sped up and her body commenced a low buzzing, she stayed still, eyes down on the paperback.
He stooped down beside her to tie his shoe, letting the bag he carried rest on the ground. As he went to right himself, only the most astute observer would have noticed the knuckle of his index finger reach out and bush along the outside of her calf and thigh. Bringing himself up to stand he took a step away, took out his phone and proceeded to wait with the hundreds of others for the next train. She stole glances of his partial profile and tanned arms. She remembered the way his mouth moved across the table from her at the small cafe over the previous weekend. His smile and the easy way he spoke, how he would push forward in his seat when he got excited. She had been ready to invite him back to her place after that meeting, and she knew he was tempted. But when she asked if he wanted to get some food he had leaned across the table, without touching her, and asked if she was half as hungry as he was. She had blushed furiously and stammered something about her place being very nearby. "I have an idea", he had said. "Would you like to see my place?" She bit her lip. "Sure," she whispered. "In three days," he said. "And there are rules." She listened as he explained where to be when. How he would find her and she would follow him home, without ever giving any indication that they knew one another. It would be an adventure and she wasn't to speak until she was given permission. And so here she was, waiting for a train she never took and stealing glances at this man she barely knew. She still had goose bumps where he'd trailed his finger along her skin. Moments later the train rumbled into the station and they both stepped into the car. She took a seat by the door. She took her book back out and after locating her target a couple yards away, and went back to pretending not to notice him. She smiled at the toddler across the car just as her phone pinged to life. "I'm going to do terrible things to you tonight." She bit her lip to hold back the gasp that tried to escape. Another message followed immediately. "Starting with that sweet little mouth of yours." She didn't dare look at him. Instead she took a deep breath and tried to still her restless body. She wondered if people could feel the need radiating off her in waves. She could almost taste the heat coming across the distance from him to her. She hid her tight fists in the folds of her full skirt and closed her eyes as they blew through another stop. She closed her eyes and tried to focus. Soon she heard him clear his throat and move to put his phone back into his bag. At the next stop he stepped through the exit. She followed a few people behind him. She had to bob and weave a bit to keep him in her sights as he exited the station, along with hundreds of others. He made his way out and started walking into the residential part of the neighborhood. The area of the city was new to her so it was hard not take in all the details of the path they walked. She heard him humming to himself a dozen yards ahead. In a handful of blocks he paused before a small apartment building, checking for mail. While he did so, she texted the address to a friend. He made his way to the front door, opened it and moved inside, leaving the door open. Once inside, he moved smoothly up a flight of stairs where he unlocked another door into his own apartment. Again, he entered leaving the door open behind him. Her eyes moved everywhere once inside, taking in his personal space. She slipped her shoes off without being asked immediately inside and gently closed the door. He caught her attention very quickly when, without looking back at her, he snapped his fingers and pointed into a doorway to the left. She stepped inside and heard the door close quietly behind her. She was alone, although she could hear him moving around just outside: dropping his keys, kicking off his shoes. Then a tap running somewhere. His room was small and dim, but not dark. There was still light outside coming in through the window with a view down to the street they had just come up. The bed was made and the room was cozy. It looked lived in, but tidy. Books along the floor and a closet with no door. She hung her bag and coat on the doorknob and smiled: nothing to lose by looking around a bit. She started with the books. Tucked inside a fair number of them were postcards, airline ticket stubs, scribbled notes, all vestiges of other adventures. She had her nose buried in a well-loved copy of 'On the Road' when a scuffling sound broke her focus. A small white card had been slipped under the door. Facing up he had written, "Just the scent of your body on that platform made me hard." As she flipped the card over she read, "I want that smell all over my sheets." She couldn't help but giggle. Through the door, "Are you blushing?" "No," she whispered faintly. "Liar," came his response. She heard his footsteps move away from the door and then what had to be kitchen noises: plates rattling and the tick-tick-tick of a gas burner turning on. Already eager to do what he asked, she made her way to his bed and climbed into the center of his thick, soft comforter. That was when she caught his scent and immediately turned face down to inhale deeply. She moved like a little cat, purring and rubbing herself against his blankets. Being surrounded by his scent did things to her. Her stomach was in knots and her nipples instantly tightened up like buds. She made involuntary fists into the soft flannel and moaned softly. It was almost like getting drunk. Desire bloomed in her body like a powerful wave. She curled up in the center of the bed and waited, willing him though the door as the minutes ticked by. When she heard his steps approaching and saw the knob turn she tucked her chin down, suddenly shy. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He moved across the room and set a small glass of water on the nightstand. Then took a wooden chair, brought it alongside the bed and sat down quietly. His eyes slowly roamed over her lush, little body. She busied herself by blushing and averting her eyes, shy under his scrutiny. He reached down and patted the space of the bed closer to him and said, "Here, little kitten. Come closer." Obligingly, she squirmed a bit and closed the distance, her body still curled in upon itself. He stood and loomed over her, his eyes cool and calculating. After a full two minutes he reached down and began to slowly unbutton her blouse, starting with her collar. His long fingers moved deftly and with silent precision. She kept her eyes on his face, but his eyes were trained on his own work. When he got the the last button he helped her out of the cool silk and moved on to her skirt. When he'd peeled that away he slowly removed her tights with reverent care. He stopped to brush the back of his knuckles down her cheek before taking the hem of her camisole and working it up over her head, leaving her in a matching black lace bra and panties that she'd bought just for him. She smiled at him and his seriousness of manner. "It's like you're unwrapping me," she whispered. "Like a present," he answered without looking up. He reached out and pinched one of her hard nipples. She gasped and the energy in the room went very still. "On your stomach. Now," he ordered quietly. She obeyed and he unclasped her bra and removed it entirely. "Now on your back." As he went to move back to his chair he picked up a beer that had also been patiently waiting on the bedside table. He settled into the seat, which was now near her small, pink feet and looked back up over her body. Instinctively she bent her knees a bit to shield herself. "Spread your knees," he said as he took a long pull from the bottle and crossed his right leg over his left knee. She did as he asked, barely. "That knee closest to me, all the way open until it's touching the blanket." She gasped a bit, and as she did, he reached out to firmly grip her knee, gently prying it open, exposing her to him. He ran his warm palm slowly up her thigh and then settled back in his chair. The panties she'd chosen were sheer and she was sure her wet, swollen pussy was visible to him now. He could see what she'd be struggling to keep secret all day. She was a mess below the waist. "I've had a long day and you are the sweetest sight, just like this. Stay still while I enjoy you." The room was warm, but her little nipples were still puckered. She could smell him on the blankets beneath her. She was desperate to feel his hand on her skin again. She focused on his hands as they wrapped around his beer bottle. "That's a good girl," he said, almost absently. "Let Daddy get a good look." She smiled and shifted a bit. "No moving, I said," as he snapped his fingers to get her attention. Her eyes held to his. "Do you understand?" "Yes," she breathed. "Yes, what?" "I understand I'm not to move." "Why? Why are you not to move, kitten?" "Because Daddy wants to admire his new toy." It was his turn to smile now. "That's right." He reached forward and cupped his palm over her wet pussy. She immediately felt the warmth from his hand sink into her skin and she couldn't help but moan softly, closing her eyes. Those sounds turned guttural as he slowly moved his fingers in slow, deliberate circles against her sensitive folds. "My new toy is desperate and hungry. I think we both need time to imagine the ways I will use her between now and when the sun comes up." He sat back in his chair and stretched out languidly, putting his bare feet up on the bed somewhere above her head. "But only if you're very, very good. First you're going to get that tight little pussy ready for me. Do it now." She looked directly into his eyes for direction and only saw a hungry, stern leer. He brought the bottle to his lips and drank. Somehow the simple motion seemed arrogant and filthy. She felt every inch of her skin turn pink in response. She tentatively reached for the waistband of her panties, her left hand settling gently over her breast. She kept a close eye on his face, hoping for encouragement, some indication that she was doing what he wanted.
"Uh-uh," he sighed, a wicked smile blooming across his mouth. "Not with your hands. Naughty kitten. Now I'll have to punish you."
Somehow, from the energy radiating off him, her body suddenly ached for punishment rather then feared it. He stood quickly, towering over her. Reaching into his pocket he pulled a long piece of slim cord. He made a loop, and slipping it over her wrists, tied the other end to the headboard, her body going taut with the effort.
He licked his lips as his eyes moved back over her, placing himself carefully back into the wooden chair. "I've seen the smut you write: powerful and filthy. That mouth of yours is an instrument of pleasure in ways others can only dream of. Words are what get you off."
He leaned over her, bringing his face very close to hers. His mouth trailing slightly to the left to settle against her ear.
"The stories you write, they make you wet, don't they, pet?"
His fingertips, light as feathers, traced along the outside swell of her breast. A whimper bubbled up from her in response.
"They start as images in your mind. Dark, primal cravings to be used and owned. Don't they?"
Without warning, he pinched her nipple mercilessly and a sound of anguish came pouring out of her.
"Mmph, yes," she gasped. Her eyes wild and searching the growing shadows of the room.
"I thought so," he said. "My girl just needs the right inspiration, isn't that right?"
In a flash he was on the bed and over her, his arms and legs forming a sort of cage around her, very close. His eyes, slightly cruel and searching her face. He lowered his groin to the apex of her smooth things and gently rolled the bulge there against her sensitive skin. She cried out.
"This hard cock is going to split you open, little girl. It's going to push inside without mercy until you lose the ability to think or speak." His voice turned sinister. "I'm going to take what's mine and you will beg me for more. Now, tell me how it will go."
He pushed off her and resumed his seat. She had worked her way a bit further up the bed allowing her to bend her arms and hide part of her face. He reached out with one hand, grabbing her ankle and yanked her back down the bed, earning him a soft grunt from her as her body was stretched taut once again.
Her chest was heaving and he saw her eyes had glazed over in a spectacular way. She licked her lips once and then again, eyes focused on a faraway point.
Picking up his beer once again, he gave another order, "Speak."
