“Lovely,” His smile wide and mocking, devoid of acknowledging my angst towards him. Reclined and enjoying my irritation, Ben watches me. I haven’t the faintest idea what the point of me being completely naked is, while he is still clothed. It irks me, but I realised that it was far smoother of an operation to hurry my nakedness along, rather than coyly dragging it into the evening. I don’t know what I was so apparently shy for? I’d been almost naked in the direct sunlight on his driveway earlier today. He had seen most of me then and he had seemed to be perfectly happy with the view.
I’m not really a “sex with the lights off kind of girl” but then, many of my sexual partners had been. Whether by their own desire, or because that was what they thought I’d want, I’d never know. My guess is the latter though. Most guys behave in the bedroom, only doing as they think they should and not wanting to overstep the invisible lines of consent. Then again, maybe that was just the guys I’d been with? It’s difficult to communicate “harder” “rougher” “hurt me” in situations where you’re not sure how they will respond. Where you can’t really see it being something they’ll be able to do convincingly and with confidence.
It felt incredibly tasty to me, to have someone commanding the situation even if it made me hyper aware the nuances of vulnerability. How is it possible to enjoy feeling vulnerable while fearing it at the same time, so I find myself flitting and fighting between holding back and handing myself over to him. It takes me a minute, to realise I’ve retreated into the depths of my thoughts and that my eyes are closed now. I shake away the anxiety that is shuddering through me and gently open them to find Ben still settled in his position on the grey cushions of the couch. His hands rest above his knees, laying flatly on his thighs with his chin tilted downwards as he seemed to be intently watching me. I wanted to jump up into his lap, and take his face in my hands and run my fingers through his hair but was frozen waiting for him to say something, or do something.
“Peyton? Are you nervous or something?” He asked in a low tone, not taking his eyes off me. I keep my eyes on his and nod in reply, finally feeling a release in the stiffness of my shoulders. A stiffness I hadn’t registered before. Was he more aware of my body than I was? He pulled himself to sit up so his body was leering over me. His torso and shoulders seemed to hover over me with his face just a few inches above mine and I know he heard my breath catch in my mouth. I let it out slowly, annoyed by the stifling effect he had over me right now. Where was my sass gone? Where was the playful, rough housing gone? Why was it gone now? Is it because I was naked? That’s stupid! I thought to myself. I could feel the heat coming from his body and lifted my hands to brush the hair from around my neck, my fingers jostling the collar around my neck as I did. I watched him watching me, not expecting any change to how composed he was as I shifted slightly to release my ankle that was numbing under the weight of my butt cheek.
“You don’t need to be nervous, unless you know something I don’t?” While his expression didn’t change, I could sense the playfulness in his tone. He was baiting me again. I smirked back at him, cocking my head to one side.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, my dear, I could sit here with you like this until dinner. Watching you sit so perfectly and just enjoying the company. I’ve got some light reading I can catch up on and you make for a nice pet at my feet.” His whole face seemed to smile at me as mine fell slightly chagrin. His dark eyes playful and his tongue twitching about behind his mouth that was close enough to kiss.
“Really, light reading?” I mustered casual annoyance, scowling at him. “You got me naked so you can read. This is what you had planned? Well, that’s nice isn’t it. Just lovely. Ben, just so very lovely.” I waffled on my rant, watching his smiling face turn into a chuckling laughter that seemed to echo in the room. “Are you not going to touch me at all? You are a terrible tease, and a flirt!” I splattered at him, while he continued to laugh at me. For good measure, I poked my tongue out not thinking he’d see me do it while he was busy laughing.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” I chirped backed at him. Ben grabbed my face again squishing my cheeks together while his other hand tried to wrestle it’s way into my mouth and fetch my tongue. A slippery mess, though he grabbed it and pulled it out of my mouth before I even thought to bite down on his fingers.
“This right here, is going to get you in trouble.” He tugged on my tongue, in an upwards and downwards motion that made my head follow in agreement. “Understand?” I continued to nod involuntarily, until he let me go. I lipped my lips and massaged my tongue against the top of my mouth, letting it settle back where it belongs.
“Well, if it was put to good use…” I muttered gently letting my hand come to rest on my hips, wanting to be matter of factly informing him, but not so much that it got me in more trouble. He cocked an eyebrow at me, and downplayed a twisted smirk. I could see that he was amused by my comment and so I offered a shrug of my shoulders for good measure. Now that the initial awkwardness of my bare skin was dissipating, I could feel myself relaxing into our usual groove. He moved to stand up before me which startled me into grabbing into his legs.
“Calm down, I’ll be back” he said, still smiling down at me but unfazed and shaking me off as he hopped over me and wandered off down the hall. When he returned he came with a large black duffle bag, and set it down a few metres away. He takes the jug of water and glasses over to the kitchen bench and I watch quietly. When he turns back to walk I can see this dark smile sitting snuggly in the corner of his mouth and wonder what thats all about.
Ben comes to sit back down in front of me.
“Take my boots off please.” I groan at his request. I fucking hate feet. They’re disgusting, and touching them is not on my list of fetishes. Being anywhere near feet is no on my hot list. All the same, I do it and then set them aside next to the couch out of the way. Ben lifts his hand to brush the hair from my face in a very tender way, as I complete what he asked, tucking it behind my ear. His hand is warm and his skin feels so good connecting with mine that I can’t help but nuzzle into his palm with my cheek.
“Good girl,” His voice and those words pull through me and I come to complete attention for him. I’m prickling all over, wondering what is coming next. “Stand up for me.” I cringe inwardly, knowing this means more of me will be on show, but take comfort in the feeling of his hand still at my cheek. As I stand, he lets his hand fall down my body brushing over the pale skin of my chest, the softness of my exposed breast and then lays his palm flat in the curve of my hip. With his hand on my body I don’t feel as naked as I should and nudge into his fingers as I shift the weight from one hip to the other.
I’m look down at him with soft curious eyes, pawing over him, admiring from this new angle. His body still hidden beneath his clothes rests before me with his deep set eyes searching my expression as his fingertips start tapping on my body. He keeps eye contact with me as much as possible, though I’m sure he has been skilfully observing me and my displayed body when I’ve been too distracted to notice. I like that he’s not overcome by the sight of a naked woman. That it doesn’t instantly turn him into dick brain, splattering cheesy one liners and marvellously creep worthy compliments. Silent appreciation is very becoming.
Ben leans forward, edging closer to the edge of the couch, and his face is closing in on the gap between my thighs. In response I gather my hands into his hair, gently resting them there with no intention other than to be able to touch some part of him while he is this close to me. His breath is on me. Why it is that he’s still waiting, what he’s waiting for? It’s a sharp pain that turns dull as he bites into the top of my thigh with heavy force. I bend slightly and steady myself placing my hands on his shoulders and yelp loudly. I’d been so quite, I was surprised by the sound of my own voice. He grabbed with his teeth tighter as his arms wrapped around my body to hold me in place. My thigh was at his mercy, in his mouth being suckled and tasted by him. When his teeth unlatched from my body, with his eyes lifted up to see where I was. I caught his gaze with a lazy smile and limply lifted my hands to pull the hair out of my face. I shifted my weight on my feet, feeling the sliver of wetness spread on the skin, between my thighs. I blushed and pulled my lip into my mouth, suddenly aware of how dry my mouth was. Ben raised an eyebrow at me and tightened his grip on my body with his hands. His fingers dug in deeply, massaging as he work his way down my thighs, buttocks and calves, before slapping me hard stinging his hand print into my ass.
Smiling cruelly, his hands run up and through the middle of my thighs, tickling at me. I’m overly sensitive there, and giggle throwing my head back to hide my face as I do. He waits until I’ve composed myself, bringing my gaze back to him, before his fingers start to tickle and play at the folds of my vulva. He smiles harder, feeling the wetness I’ve accumulated already. I part my mouth and whimper as he explores me with long strokes, keeping my focus on his face.
“I want you on the table there, on all fours like a cat.” He says, as his hands fall away from me, away from pleasuring and tormenting me. I dip, slightly weakened and dizzy as I step back from him. I don’t answer him, but take myself and do as he says without protest. My body is facing the opposite direction, postured on the coffee table in the middle of the room. I am more slippery than I was before, thanks to him and now I’m exposed and on show like never before. I can hear him move behind me and when I hear the sound of a zipper coming undone, I flicker with excitement. Yes, I think to myself. I hear him shuffle around some more, and the sound of one of the kitchen draws opening and closing. Ben returns with a glass of water and a rather childish looking swirly straw poking out of it.
“Here, have a sip,” He offers, holding the straw within reach of my mouth. I oblige gratefully, wetting my mouth and sipping back to cool water. When I’m done Ben moves the cup to a shelf just behind him and returns so he’s standing before me. I giggle and blush as my head seems to be the splendidly perfect height, of his crotch. Oh how the tables have turned.
“What’s so funny, Peyton?” He chuckled back at me, enquiry about my laugh. I laugh some more and share with him my thought about the tables having turned. I can see he is highly amused by what I say because of the way his mouth curls into that gorgeous twisted smile of his. Then he bends down nice and slow, getting his face close to mine as he leans in to whisper to me that I have no idea what I’m talking about. Promptly, I swallow down on my tongue and let out a deep sigh. Ben moves around my body until he is out of sight and I can only hear his footsteps. When he comes back he’s holding a long black crop. My eyes flicker at it, remembering watching one of the men in the club being passionately tormented by one very similar. I wonder if I’ll feel the same cut of pleasure and pain as he seemed to.
“Earlier today I asked you if you Trust me, and you didn’t know yet. Is that still the case?” His words to me seemed vaguely questioning but not in the way that he was checking to see if I’d changed my mind. Rather, he was checking to confirm how I was feeling.
“Yes, it is,” I nod, trying to follow his path with my eyes as he seems to hunt around me.
“Good,” He lands the crop on the cheek of my arse in a cheeky swat. It’s stingy, but light and I wiggle a little to energy of it as it passes through my body. “ I’d hate to think you were too easily won over or anything stupid like that,” The smug tone in his voice made me smile some more before feeling the crop come down harder on the flesh of my other ass cheek. I let out a squeak of sorts, feeling the sting harshly ripple over my naked skin. I’d been so distracted trying to figure out the predicament I was in I’d hardly thought much about how naked I was. In this moment, I felt comfortable and at ease propped up on the table exposed as I was.
His swats with the crop come closer together, hitting either one of my cheeks with no rhythm to speak of. I couldn’t count them expectedly to guess where they might land next. Each one though, jolts through me and plunders my thoughts spreading confusion of pain and tantalising agitation. Some meet my flesh with force and elicit yelps and chirps while others are more like quick snaps that allow me to relax into the sensations channelling through me. I grip my fingers more tightly to the table, wanting the scratch and claw at the wood until I’ve dug my way to the floor. Ben’s circling around me is disorientating, and I wonder to see his expression. My head falls languidly as I slow my breathing, bracing myself for the next blows.
“You Fucker!” I screech out at him, and wrangle one of my legs out into the air as if to kick at him. The stiff rod of the crop had landed all the way across my ass with the leather flicking into the side of my thigh for several repetitions. I’d stammered internally through the first few but he’d worn my skin there and it felt like I was burning.
“Filthy language you have there Peyton.” His laugh filled the room as he swatted harshly at my flailing leg, ordering me back in place. I obliged, snarling my breath and lowering my chest as I arched my back lifting my head to stretch out the places I could feel were starting to seize. Ben came to stand in front of me now, dipping his head to mine. His face looked flushed but relaxed as he smiled cooly. “Open your dirty mouth,” he cooed at me, raising his left brow in the process. I glared back at him, but couldn’t hold the smirk from filling the sides of my mouth. I twitched my nose at him and sighed, opening my mouth as he asked. I half expected him to ram the crop handle into my mouth, but instead he presented me with the cup of water once more, urging me to drink.
He goes to set the cup down again, and then lifts his shirt up and off his body. I’m suddenly more alert than I was before, realising the progression here. His body was firm, and lean but not bulky, with the right amount of definition in his torso. I perved my eyes up and down following my eyes along the trail of dark hair that seemed to disappear under the belt of his pants. I’m looking at him so intently I forget that he’s actually standing there and startle when he clears his throat to get my attention.
“You can get up off the table now,” He says, placing a hand out for me to grab onto and I reach out to accept. My body is stiffer than I thought it might be, and my head flimsy and warm. As I stand up I wobble, landing into him and into his arms. He walks me over to the couch and sit me down slowly. Placing a hand under my chin, he lift my head to him and asks me if I’m ok. I don’t feel cold, but somehow I’m vibrating slightly. I can see a look of contemplation on his face, before he ducks off muttering about getting me a blanket. When he returns he brings the cup of water over to me and drags the coffee table, my podium of pleasure over to set the cup upon it. Ben cups my face again, and leans down to kiss my forehead. He lingers his mouth there as if inspecting my bodily condition through his lips and for the moment, it curbs my involuntary shivering. I watch him wonder off again, this time towards the kitchen. I love watching his body ripple as he walks topless around the room, and rest my head into the soft pillow behind me. From the fridge he retrieves a board of food which is filled with cured meat, cheese, dates and fresh cut fruits. He sets it down on the table, and then seats himself beside me.
It’s curious to me, that just a few moments ago, I was ass high floating in a daze crouching over this table as he perfectly assaulted me with finesse and now I was snuggled up on the couch as he passed pieces of apple to my mouth urging me to eat. Curious. Ben saw the twitch in my expression as I chewed carefully on my bite of food.
“You look deep in thought there?” He enquired. I smiled, recognising it was a question and not a statement.
“We seem to go from 0 to 75 and back again so quickly don’t we?” I pried, wondering if he’s actually planned for things to go as they are. My words played at him, making him click his tongue at me as he moved in closer and lifted the blanket to cover over his body.
“We go as we do. Its too early for blurred lines. I stopped because you looked like you’d had enough, and since you didn’t beg for anything else, I didn’t change the tempo either.” He grinned, throwing me a wink. I nod, listening to his words. It’s true. This afternoon I’ve been coiling around in my mind, wishing and wondering why I was still hungry and waiting, I hadn’t stopped to think about what part I had in controlling the outcome. I was lost in him taking the lead, following his words and waiting for direction that it never occurred to me I could ask for what I wanted. I had my own voice, and I’d accepted that it was my responsibility to use it. I had simply chosen not to at this point. Perhaps the pain of my need was not great enough, yet. Or I was a fool of a girl who couldn’t think past the purple haze he seemed to be able to fill me with.

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