color was it? I wondered, as I combed through it, trying to work out the knots.
“I didn’t ask you to play hairdresser,” he snapped, and I pulled my hands free.
“Sorry.” I felt along the line of his bristly, unshaven jaw, barely brushing the corner of his mouth when he reached up and yanked my hands away.
“Never touch my face.” His voice held an anger I couldn’t understand, and I shrank away from it.
“I’m sorry!” I twisted to get away from that fury, but he held me fast, his voice softening.
“It’s alright, I should’ve told you.” He returned my hands to his thighs and let go of me. “You can touch me anywhere else, but not my face.”
“Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“Of course, because you said so.” Behind the blindfold, my eyes rolled out of habit.
“You don’t like doing things because I said so?” He didn’t sound angry anymore, so I risked lightening his mood.
My hands pressed together on his knee as I lowered my head in a deep bow. “Of course I do, master. I live to serve.”
“Cute,” he snorted. “Less talking, more touching. Or should I put that pretty mouth of yours to better use?”
~7~
I figured I had one shot at showing him how useful I could be with my hands free. If I could give Aidan pleasure without him having to tie me up or hurt me, I counted myself as ahead of the game. He was rude and demanding half the time, but he also hadn’t forced me into anything I wasn’t ready for yet. That told me he was capable of being a decent guy, contract or no contract.
With that in mind, I smoothed my hands back up his thighs again, dipping my fingers into the waist of his jeans until I found the button and opened them. The zipper came next, and as I spread open the soft denim, my nails grazed over the thick cock straining against his briefs. Ho-ly-shit… Had I said I’d just picture Michael sitting in front of me? Michael had never packed anything like that in his Calvins. I’d never been one to look for a mega-dick, but goddamn , his was impressive.
Stroking along the length, I found the heavy ridge and ran my fingers over the tip, gratified to get a groan of approval from him. Growing bolder, I tugged his underwear down until his cock sprang free, bobbing against my hand. His hips shifted at once as he helped me push the jeans down, and I leaned back to help him tug them off completely. As he settled back again, I ran my hands over his body, leaning close so that his cock nestled snugly between my breasts.
I was already starting to get a picture of him in my mind, despite the blindfold. His body was finely sculpted, it was easy enough to tell it was sexy as hell without having to see him. But what color was his skin? Pale and flawless? Tanned and freckled by the sun? Did he have any tattoos? The gentle probe of my fingers didn’t give me a clue.
What color was his tangle of hair and raspy beard? Was it blonde like a Viking or brown like a barbarian? What color were his eyes? Dark to go with his moods or gray like the sea before a storm? I could only hope to find out if I pleased him well enough, and with that in mind, my hands returned to his cock, already hard and wet from the fat drop of pre-cum at the tip.
My thumb swirled over the thick vein that bulged under the head, making slow circles before I wrapped my entire hand around it and gave it a slow, tight pump. Aidan’s hips bucked, and a low, ragged moan escaped his lips, sending a rush of heat between my legs. I pressed my thighs together and pumped my hand up and down, eager to hear that sound again. His breath quickened, more wetness seeping from the tip. It gave me enough freedom to try a swirling stroke, but I knew it wasn’t going to be enough lubrication to get the job done.
Leaning down, I gave the tip an experimental lick and from his sharp intake of breath, I thought maybe he’d had
“I didn’t ask you to play hairdresser,” he snapped, and I pulled my hands free.
“Sorry.” I felt along the line of his bristly, unshaven jaw, barely brushing the corner of his mouth when he reached up and yanked my hands away.
“Never touch my face.” His voice held an anger I couldn’t understand, and I shrank away from it.
“I’m sorry!” I twisted to get away from that fury, but he held me fast, his voice softening.
“It’s alright, I should’ve told you.” He returned my hands to his thighs and let go of me. “You can touch me anywhere else, but not my face.”
“Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“Of course, because you said so.” Behind the blindfold, my eyes rolled out of habit.
“You don’t like doing things because I said so?” He didn’t sound angry anymore, so I risked lightening his mood.
My hands pressed together on his knee as I lowered my head in a deep bow. “Of course I do, master. I live to serve.”
“Cute,” he snorted. “Less talking, more touching. Or should I put that pretty mouth of yours to better use?”
~7~
I figured I had one shot at showing him how useful I could be with my hands free. If I could give Aidan pleasure without him having to tie me up or hurt me, I counted myself as ahead of the game. He was rude and demanding half the time, but he also hadn’t forced me into anything I wasn’t ready for yet. That told me he was capable of being a decent guy, contract or no contract.
With that in mind, I smoothed my hands back up his thighs again, dipping my fingers into the waist of his jeans until I found the button and opened them. The zipper came next, and as I spread open the soft denim, my nails grazed over the thick cock straining against his briefs. Ho-ly-shit… Had I said I’d just picture Michael sitting in front of me? Michael had never packed anything like that in his Calvins. I’d never been one to look for a mega-dick, but goddamn , his was impressive.
Stroking along the length, I found the heavy ridge and ran my fingers over the tip, gratified to get a groan of approval from him. Growing bolder, I tugged his underwear down until his cock sprang free, bobbing against my hand. His hips shifted at once as he helped me push the jeans down, and I leaned back to help him tug them off completely. As he settled back again, I ran my hands over his body, leaning close so that his cock nestled snugly between my breasts.
I was already starting to get a picture of him in my mind, despite the blindfold. His body was finely sculpted, it was easy enough to tell it was sexy as hell without having to see him. But what color was his skin? Pale and flawless? Tanned and freckled by the sun? Did he have any tattoos? The gentle probe of my fingers didn’t give me a clue.
What color was his tangle of hair and raspy beard? Was it blonde like a Viking or brown like a barbarian? What color were his eyes? Dark to go with his moods or gray like the sea before a storm? I could only hope to find out if I pleased him well enough, and with that in mind, my hands returned to his cock, already hard and wet from the fat drop of pre-cum at the tip.
My thumb swirled over the thick vein that bulged under the head, making slow circles before I wrapped my entire hand around it and gave it a slow, tight pump. Aidan’s hips bucked, and a low, ragged moan escaped his lips, sending a rush of heat between my legs. I pressed my thighs together and pumped my hand up and down, eager to hear that sound again. His breath quickened, more wetness seeping from the tip. It gave me enough freedom to try a swirling stroke, but I knew it wasn’t going to be enough lubrication to get the job done.
Leaning down, I gave the tip an experimental lick and from his sharp intake of breath, I thought maybe he’d had
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