Greedy

Greedy

By choice, I am on my knees before you, looking up at you through my eyelashes, cheeks flushed. You search my eyes, your own darting quizzically, hesitant. I reach up up and unbutton you at the waist, drawing your zipper down, it's rhythmic crunching filling my ears. Your fingertips graze the top of my head, filtering strands of my hair lightly. Eagerly, I draw your pants and underthings down to mid-thigh, exposing you. You have always been a delight to my eye, your dark tickling curls a springy nest for your cock. Hard or soft, I cannot get enough of looking at you, let alone experiencing you. I take a moment to admire, then glance up. You always blush at how wanton I am. The red flush stains you gently up to the tips of your ears. Leaning forward, I nuzzle affectionately against your member and listen to you gulp as blood floods your groin, your prick stiffening. I love this anticipation. My breath warms your skin, hot and damp, as my eyes flicker back up. You're floating away now, fingers falling uselessly to your sides, head tipping back with a sigh. I languidly envelop your turgid cock in my mouth, grinning wickedly around your girth, my tongue lapping at your length. For a moment I stay there and savour you, before sucking down your cock. You sigh again, breathy encouragement. I take my time, building you up slowly, a crescendo of obscene noises growing louder, faster, more urgent, as I continue my ministrations. I'm kissing and sucking and licking your prick with the fervent devotion of a worshipper, and there is no better term for me, still on my knees, laving your cock. You moan, one I know well, signaling your impending climax, and I'm delighted. My whole body aches for you, skin tight, breath shallow. Just a few more eager suckles, my hands digging into your hips. I purr in my throat and you gasp, thrusting your hands into my hair, holding me against your bucking hips as I swallow everything, your cock emptying at the back of my throat. We stay like that, you buried to the hilt in my mouth, me gently cleaning you off with my tongue, for many long heartbeats until you remember where you are, gingerly pulling away from me. I move in and lick you clean, pleased. I can sense impatience from you, but I take my time. You deserve the best. Satisfied, I glance up with a smile that is half shy and half sly as you pull me to my feet, hauling me against you. "Wicked thing." You lean down and whisper in my ear. I smile again, writhing suggestively. "I told you I was greedy." I swoon as you kiss me forcefully, my cheeks turning crimson.

I loved her in the way that only comes with youth: irresponsibly, naïvely, selfishly, wholly and joyously, and I didn't even realise it was love.

I called her my friend, my very best friend. I told her if I were a man I'd take her away from everything that troubled her. I wanted to protect her and keep her safe.

In my ignorance, I hurt her, drove her away, because she already had the language to know how she felt, but surely if I were queer, someone would have told me.

It was the loneliest closet, for I didn't know I was in it, alone.

He guided her back to the vanity and took a tissue to her mussed face, his movements deliberate and gentle. She wasn't surprised; some part of her expected it, knew from how he spun her out and drew her back on the dance floor that there could be an undercurrent of tenderness. She took his hand in hers, turning the palm up, and placed it to her lips, kissing his skin.

He smiled faintly, tossing the tissue away, stroking her hair with his free hand. "An apology? Unusual. I accept."

"It wasn't..." she started to protest, before casting her eyes upwards, glancing into his. She was thunderstruck.

"You're a demon." She whispered.

"Nothing so common." He scoffed, waving a hand, before taking her elbow. "Come, my brat."

"Yes." She said, mouth dry. He’d never used a single power on her.

He led her through the kitchens. She was rich; she exited this way constantly. Her limo was parked out back, anyhow.

The driver raised a single brow, which lowered under His gaze. She just shrugged. "Take us home." The driver seemed about to argue, when she gave him a look, "Home, Rhys. It's not a debate." He stiffened and opened the door for the couple, shutting it politely once they were within, and pulling away from the curb moments later.

In the back, he pulled her to his side. She resisted for a fraction of a second and he shot her a warning look. Interpreting it immediately, she nestled against him, shivering. He could sense her blood pounding through her veins, roaring in her ears.

"Are you frightened, brat?" He leaned down and breathed against her ear, before allowing his tongue to trace the outline.

She whimpered softly, hands clasping the hand of the arm he had around her shoulders, before she found her rebellion, and whispered, "I have a name."

"Eulalia Chara Kazantzakis. Yes. Heir to the fortune. The only remaining heir. Your brother lost his life in a duel, your parents in a car crash. You're alone in the world. You go by Lollie. I'm going to call you Brat...in private. But among others, Eulalia. Your name is beautiful."

Her eyes fluttered closed. "Yes."

He nuzzled against her hair, lips pressed to her ear, murmuring, "Or shall I call you Eulalia in private, when you've behaved?"

Gooseflesh erupted over her skin, and she nodded, trembling.

"Yes." He breathed. "You'd like me to acknowledge you more as just my brat. More than just..." He paused, and smiled, growling the word, "Mine."

She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, pressing her knees together. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Her fingernails bit into his flesh, she was holding his hand so tightly.

"When was the last time you ever felt this exhilarated, Eulalia?" He asked softly, shaking her hands from his, then drawing his hand in, to her throat, stroking the flesh there. Her hands descended to her knees, clenched into fists.

"Well?" He queried. Her response was a full body shudder, and he deliberately, slowly, grasped her windpipe. "That's not an answer, brat." He drew her chin back, tipping her head so he could look down into her eyes.

"When?"

She shook her head, eyes opening, clear, feckless. "Never."

Dawn

It’s that space between sleep and alarms, the cozy darkness of about 4am. He turns in his sleep, uncomfortable, rolling, nestling against her back gently like a rowboat docking.

His arms encircle her, drawing her closer, so he tucks his whiskered chin against her shoulder, spooning her fully, ensuring they are touching from head to toe. She stirs somewhat in complaint; she’d not been restrained moments ago and now he’d nearly buried the length of her, twining their limbs .

He is content for a moment, before her hips shift, rolling slowly against his groin as she surfaces from sleep, in turn waking his cock. Groaning, he pulls her tighter against his crotch, the unnatural movement waking her further. A soft moan escapes her lips and he’s emboldened.

His hands sweep over her nightshirt, up to her breasts, cupping them familiarly and rolling his thumbs over her rapidly stiffening nipples. She moans again, louder, her hips rolling against his prick. He pinches her nipples gently, and pulls, netting himself soft panting for his efforts. She’s more awake now, reaching behind her for his cock, stroking him through the flimsy fabric of his boxers.

He slides his hands over the low scoop of her neckline, cupping her breasts in his hands, skin on skin. She rolls over, impatiently shucking her shirt off over her head, pressing up against him with a warm, half-awake chuckle.

Cupping her face in his hands, he kisses her hungrily, lips nipping with ferocity, tongue battling. She wasn’t prepared for such an onslaught of ardour. Her kisses are sleepy, syrupy, sweet, her fingers trailing through the curls on his chest before descending to his boxers and the contents therein. She purrs as she slides her fingers beyond the waistband and meets his hard cock, stroking eagerly.

“Yes.” He hisses into her ear, before leaning down and nipping her shoulder, fingertips stroking over her back. She growls, nuzzling his throat, hands working his swollen prick.

“I want you.” She murmurs, realizing she wants more than to stroke her lover, and he pins her on her back, leaning in to taste her breasts aggressively, a knee sliding between her legs. She needs no coaxing.

He shimmies out of his boxers and centers himself between her legs. She drapes her arms over his shoulders, while he guides his cock through her wetness. “Please.” She pleads. He needs no further encouragement and slowly drives himself home with a contented growl.

She sighs, pleased, before they begin to move in tandem, an old practiced dance. He strokes her pussy with his dick, while she milks him with her cunt. They work together, the tempo teasing and pleasing, heightening their pleasure. Before he knows it, she’s reached her peak and surged over it’s edge, her cries a soft soprano in praise. He allows himself to let go and join her, meeting her gentle cooing with his own harsher, gutteral, primal calls, painting the walls of her pussy with his fluids, marking her as his again and again.

For a few moments the only sounds are their breaths slowing, before she chuckles and he rolls to her side with a laugh of his own.

“I hate it when you go.” She said, just a hint of sadness in her voice.

“I love it when you come.” He said with a grin. They were both silent before bursting into giggles and snuggling into each other’s arms.

Kissing his temple, she smiled and whispered, “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” He murmured, pulling her as close as possible.

The chemistry was nearly instantaneous the moment he walked into the shop. It was just a combination of senses, long glances, mutual tension. She glanced up from her magazine, darkly rimmed eyes scanning him. Tattoos graced his biceps – she could see the beginnings of a full set of sleeves on him. Brushing a loose strand of dirty blonde hair out of her eyes, she stood up and moved to the counter. "How can I help ya?" She said, tongue ring glinting in her mouth.

He coughed gently, glancing down, then up into her eyes. "I need to see your piercing portfolio." His soft voice replied. She nodded, and pushed the book over to him. "There ya go. Let me know if you need anything."

She had just sat down when he said, "How much are the nipple piercings?" She sprang up as if she'd sat on a tack and stepped over, "Eighty."

He nodded, "Then, I need to do that." She nodded in return, and got the paperwork for him to fill out. She noted he signed his full name, Joseph, and not a nickname, and idly wondered what he looked like without his shirt, if his biceps indicated anything about the rest of him. Something about him stirred something deep with in her. 'Maybe it's just pheromones...' she thought, idly, trying to push the wanton thoughts from her head.

Once she'd gotten his license and credit card, she led him to her room in the back. He glanced around the sterile room warily, sitting gingerly on the table, as she set to prepping the needles and jewelry, donning gloves.

"So why are you wanting to get your nipples pierced, Joseph?" She queried politely, trying to ram the veneer of client/piercer firmly in place in her mind.

He looked rather sheepish, "To...make them more sensitive...maybe. I don't know. I like the way they look. I mean, they're already pretty sensi...I mean...I just like it. Is all."

She grinned slowly, nodding. "Right on. Off with the shirt, there."

He shivered as he took his shirt off and she assessed his nipples, trying to keep her eyes from roaming over him. He wasn't cut, but just the way she liked them, thin with strong arms. She shook her head to clear it, then marked where she’d send the needle through. "Stand up and look at the mirror. Let me know if the placement is good."

He hopped up and scanned himself, appraising critically. Finally he nodded, and lay back down on the table. She grinned, having seen the wrangled nerves of her clients a thousand times before as she cleaned his buds off with a swab, making them pucker. Seizing the needle, she placed her left hand on his ribs, and instructed, "Now exhale, luv." As he breathed out, she ran the needle through the flesh. He grimaced as she swiftly followed the newly made hole through with a barbell, securing as quickly as she could. "Not too bad, right?" He laughed shakily. "Ready for the next?" She asked, and watched him clench his fists and steel his nerves, nodding. Repeating the procedure, she had his second nipple pierced in no time, and helped him sit up.

"Go take a look." She chirped as she pulled the gloves off, turning to her counter to get her after care instructions for him. She heard him exhale softly, then say, "Perfect."

With a smile, she turned and held out the slip of paper. "Don't fuck with 'em, soak 'em with sea salt soaks twice a day for six weeks, and come see me if you have ANY questions at all." He nodded gratefully, pocketing the slip of paper and gingerly pulling his shirt over his chest.

She walked him out, feeling a little wistful knowing she'd probably never see him again and sent him off before greeting her next client.

He didn't pass her mind much for awhile, just the occasional day dream she had to rub out, but that was the way it went in her business. Customers came and customers went..

Six weeks to the day, Joseph showed back up in her shop. It was a lull in the afternoon and she was flipping through another magazine while doodling. In fact, she was so engrossed he had to clear his throat to get her attention.

"I was wondering..." He asked, quietly, a little nervous, "If you'd take a look at...erm...these..." He motioned to his chest.

Blinking a few times, she stood up and nodded, "Sure, alright. Come on back. Having problems?" He nodded and trailed after her. She closed the door, motioning to the table. "Have a seat, then, and I'll take a look."He pulled his shirt off, tossing it to a chair, then hopped up on the table while she donned her gloves. She turned and got closer, surveying. "They look fine to me..." She said, trying to see what he was talking about.

"You might need to look closely. I...I think I might have not taken good care of them." He said softly. She could feel his nerves jangling again as goosebumps erupted over his skin and his nipples contracted in the cold of the room. She inched closer, looking as deeply as she dared, searching for whatever it was that he saw that she didn't.

She glanced up at him skeptically, noting his slack jaw. Her brow arched as she went back to studying his nipple, though her eyes happened to glance downward. His cock was straining at his pants. Her womb practically contracted right there.

"Well...maybe...I do see something. I think I can treat it really quick." She stood up and smiled warmly at him as his eyes slid open slowly and he blinked himself back to reality.

"Do you want me to treat it, Joseph, and make them better?" She asked, softly. It was such a corny line, but she didn't care at the moment. Watching this fantastic man in front of her was mesmerizing.

"Oh, please, would you make them better, Mariam?" He asked quietly. She was startled he even remembered her name, and it registered as the faintest flickering of shock across her face. She settled back into the warm smile she'd affected, and bobbed her head, once.

"Certainly. Now hold still. If you move too much, it might not work." She requested, authoritatively. He nodded slowly, and braced his arms by grabbing the lip of the table.

Slowly, she leaned forward, allowing her warm breath to tickle his areola, before her tongue snaked out and flipped the tip of his nipple. She heard his breath catch, and she did it again, netting the same response. "Well, there's that one." She said softly.

"Nooooo." He whispered softly, "I...I think it needs more." He bit his lip, then, to stifle the whimper growing in his throat.

She pressed the flat of her tongue to his puckering bud, slowly dragging it across until the bar in her tongue hit the bar in his nipples. "Oh god." He managed to choke out, and she smiled slowly, then lapped liberally at his nipple, bathing it in her saliva, alternating the flat of her tongue with the tip, stabbing, licking, and finally sucking until he was arching against her mouth

Satisfied she'd gotten everything she could out of that side, she turned her attentions to the other, repeating the treatment until he was shuddering under her mouth, cock rigid in his jeans, arms straining to keep him upright. When she finished, she pulled away slowly, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Even if licking his nipples was all she'd ever get, she was happy with it.

"I think..." He whispered huskily as he straightened up, "That you need to...adjust...that tongue ring." She blinked in confusion until he stood up, seizing her roughly by the arms and dragging her to him. She opened her mouth to protest the manhandling, only to have him dip his tongue into her mouth. The protest died instantaneously and she kissed him back, tongue stroking his in return. She didn't know how long they stood there locked in a fierce kiss, and she didn't care. The shop could have burned down around her head and she would have still stood there, consumed as she was with the sense of him, the feel of him, his fingers digging deeply into her arms.

He worked his way down her jaw with gentle nips and nibbles, and she tilted her head back for better access. Gingerly, he flicked her Madison with his tongue, a movement which caused her to whimper. Slowly he took the ring in his mouth and sucked gently. She pressed herself against him, fingers running over his back as he toyed with the piercing at her throat. His hands slid down her torso to the hem of her tank top, then quested beneath it, fingertips stroking her ribcage.

She pulled away from him, frantically yanking the tank top off over her head and tossing it in the corner before lunging at him, seizing his face and kissing him again and again. He recovered from the attack quickly, turning her and lifting her up to set her on the table. Pulling away from her barrage of kisses, he peppered her throat neck and shoulders with nips of his own, fingers working the clasp on her bra to free her tits for his sampling.

He pulled the bra from her shoulders once he'd gotten the clasp undone, tossing it into the corner with her tank top and his shirt, and took a moment to admire her own set of pierced nipples. She leaned back, bracing herself on her arms, arching her back, wantonly giving him access to her breasts. He took the unspoken offering and gently began to lap at her nipples, first one, then the other, alternating slowly. She purred her appreciation as he worked, his arms around her to help hold her up. He continued to suckle at her ever tightening buds until she was gasping for breath, shuddering in his arms. Releasing her, he stepped back to admire her again for a moment, and was about to reach for her when she slowly sat up, heavy lidded eyes regarding him as she unbuttoned her shorts, raising her hips to pull them off, revealing the white thong underneath. With a flick of her wrist, she threw the shorts into the pile of clothing, then knelt before him in one fluid motion. She deftly unbuckled his belt, then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. After the tongue lashing he'd given her nipples, she was dying to wrap her lips around his cock, especially if it was anything like the imprint it was making on his jeans and had made in her mind during lonely, boring hours at work since she'd pierced him.

With agonizing slowness, she pulled down his jeans and boxers together, allowing his heavy dick to swing freely. Her eyes almost lit up as she regarded his large, swollen member, appreciating the heft, weight, and length of it. His fingers clenched as he looked down at her. Slowly, he took his dick in his hand and offered it to her, wordlessly expressing his need.

She glanced up, a smile flickering over her mouth, before she began to run her tongue along the length of his shaft, long, wet licks that left him slicked with saliva. Once he was fully moistened, she began a nibbling, suckling kiss around the head of his cock, then, with painful slowness, inhaled his shaft centimeter by centimeter until she'd taken all she could and then some. Whatever she couldn't stuff in her clasping throat she held in her hands. Once he was situated, she began to suck, hard, in earnest, one hand making up for what she couldn't suck, the other gently stroking his balls. His head lolled back, rolling on his shoulders as he whimpered in time with her sucking.

She could have gone on for hours, just deep-throating him until she'd gotten her fill of it, but she could tell he was getting closer to cumming, the way he was starting to grunt with every twitch of her tongue on his shaft. She toned down the blow job in increments before pulling away altogether and rising to stand up.

Her standing gave him just enough time to recover, and he growled, primal. "Hhhmiiiinnne..." Before taking her by the shoulders and spinning her around, forcing her to bend against the table. "I'm going to fuck you so hard..." He said around ragged breaths, "That you won't remember your name."

"Then do it." She responded breatlessly, pressing slowly back against him with a roll of her hips. Reaching back, she slid her thong down her legs, then returned to suggestively press against him.

"Oh, I will." He breathed, seizing his cock in one hand, holding her shoulder with the other. He dragged his prick through her growing wetness, slicking himself up with the remains of her blow job and the fluids from her pussy. He began to aim his dick towards her cunt but spied her puckered brown hole. Taking his hand off her shoulder, he passed his free hand through her wetness as he continued to stroke her folds with his dick. His damp fingers reached for her tight backdoor, stroking tentatively.

"God, yes, please." She moaned, reaching around to pull her ass cheeks apart for him. Encouraged, he worked a finger into her asshole, slowly pumping in and out of her. She had to bury her face in the table to stifle the coos emanating from her throat which were growing steadily louder. As she began to relax, he worked a second finger in, his cock throbbing against her pussy lips, wanting to replace his fingers.

Once he'd gotten her ass and his dick as damp as he could, he slowly angled his cock at her tight rosebud. At first, he was met with resistance, but eventually she opened up to allow him entry, and he began to push himself into her most private hole.

"Like that like that like that..." She chanted softly, releasing her ass cheeks, one hand grasping the table, the other going to stroke between her legs. "Jesus, fuck me."

He obliged her, working himself about halfway into her butt hole, before pulling back, netting himself a soft squeal for the effort. Back and forth, he withdrew and pushed onwards until he was buried deep in her ass. He admired the view he had of his cock stretching her pink ring wide, then ground into her. He could feel her fingers stroking her pussy between the thin wall of flesh that separated him from her cunt. It only served to stimulate him further.

Slowly, he worked at her, his cock sawing in and out of her ass. Enthralled with the sensation, he barely heard her whimper, "Oh, god, don't stop.' Her ass and pussy were throbbing as she stroked herself and he continued to fuck her, trying to help drive her over the edge. She bit into the padded top of the table to stifle her howl of pleasure as her innards tightened up fiercely around his cock, squeezing him in pulsating rhythm. He could feel the tingling sensation signaling his own orgasm.

"I'm...not going to last long." He panted, slowing down the pace of the ass fucking he was giving her. Once she'd caught her breath, she turned her head, and breathed, "I want you to cum, Joseph...I want you to cum in my ass." The words were like a magic spell and he resumed the fevered thrusting at her backdoor, balls slapping her pussy lips, riding the ever growing waves of tightening frustration until he had to bite back his own scream as he sent a torrent of cum deep into her ass.

After a few moments, the haze cleared and they slowly separated - her with a wince, him with a groan. Bodies aching with exertion, they hunted down their clothing, redressing silently.

"Erm..." She coughed gently, "Your piercings are fine." She began to smile, and he laughed.

"I'm sorry. I just...had to think of some reason to come back." He smiled sheepishly.

"I'm glad you did." She replied, almost bashful.

Hopefully, he asked, "Can I see you again?"

She nodded, "Only if you help me reestablish this as a sterile zone." She began to grin.

He grinned back and nodded as she handed him gloves and cleaner.

Mine

You sleep, peacefully, unaware that I'm curling up behind you. I pull you against me, burying my face into the middle of your back, breathing you in. You smell so good

I run my hands over your skin, listening for how your breathing changes depending on where and how I touch you. Those soft sleepy moans you make are divine; I feel so powerful. I can make you so needy in your sleep

Finally my questing hands reach for my prize: your stiffening cock. I love that you're ready for me, and kiss your back softly. A few obscene sounds from the bottle of lube I have on hand, and I start to run a slick finger around your asshole.

Those shuddery breaths you make are heavenly, and I work my finger into you, loosening you. Fuck, it's so slutty, you working back against me in your sleep. Needing this. Wanting this.

Sensing you're ready, I line the strap up against you, before slowly working myself into you. Your soft whimpers are delicious, and I reach for your cock to stroke you while I fuck you.

i like how sleeping people have no filters. You don't even realize you're riding me as I fuck and stroke you. The most vulnerable version of you is such a whore for me.

I could go on like this forever, thrusting into you, my fingers dancing over your shaft, listening to the moans you can't hide from. But your climax is building. I can tell from how much harder your working against me, how your turgid length throbs in my hand. I won't prolong this delicious sleepy torture. You need release and I want to give it to you.

A combination of things tilts you into bliss as you cum; I can't pinpoint any one event as the culprit for your climax. Maybe it's the strap in your ass or my hand on your cock, or, hell, the soft, encouraging kisses I pepper over your back as I work. It doesn't matter. Your whimpers are such a delight as you spill your need over my knuckles.

After a moment, all is quiet. I survey the damage: open, lubed hole, messy stomach, cock, sheets. I slide off my harness and set it aside, debating whether to clean you up, but opt instead for you to wake to evidence of your use. One final touch, though. Using your cum, I fingerpaint one word over your pubic bone: Mine.