During the drive to Gabe’s house late Sunday afternoon, I struggled to keep my nervousness in check. While stopped at a red light, I looked down at my outfit in mild disapproval. I was dressed for comfort, wearing a baggy sweater, leggings, and boots. Of course, when I’d packed for the trip home, I had no idea I’d be spending Sunday evening with a man who wanted to do all sorts of dirty things to me.
My mind constantly returned to those dirty things Gabe had described. Thinking of them sent my belly churning into what felt like a barrel roll. It also served to make me uncomfortably wet. I worried I’d end up soaking my panties.
Gabe had stayed at Dad’s house (I still couldn’t bring myself to think of it as both my father’s and Evelyn’s) until after dinner on Friday. When Evelyn invited him to stay another night, he politely declined, and I fought to hide my disappointment.
He’d given me a brief, totally appropriate hug goodbye. Yet he paused long enough to whisper in my ear, “See you soon, Opal.”
Now, with the sun quickly fading and the shadows deepening all around me, the evening ahead stretched out in my mind like a dark road. I’d already texted Andrea to let her know I’d be late arriving back at the dorm. I’d promised to check in with Dad before I went to bed that night.
Only Gabe would know my whereabouts for the next several hours.
When I reached his house at a little after six, night had already fallen. He lived at the edge of a neighborhood with labyrinthine streets, and as I pulled into his driveway, I wondered if I was at the right address. Unlike most of the surrounding houses, his was a modest ranch. It seemed utterly out of place among the behemoth structures I’d glimpsed up the road. The property appeared to have a fair amount of land, which granted its owner more privacy. I quickly realized this house had been built long before the mansions that had cropped up around it.
I was assured by the sight of Gabe’s car parked outside. He’d turned on the porchlight, and I hadn’t yet reached the front door when it opened.
He stepped out wearing jeans and a T-shirt. His feet were bare. The day had been mild, almost like spring, but I was still surprised by his outfit. Mainly because he looked so… casual. Of course, I’d only seen him a few times in the past, at the wedding rehearsal and the wedding itself. And then at Thanksgiving. Here, he seemed far less formal, in his element.
“Did you find your way okay?” he asked with a smile.
“Yep.” I couldn’t keep the enthusiasm from my stride as I bounded up the few porch steps. He ushered me into a living room that appeared to have been renovated in recent years, for it was more modern than the dwelling’s exterior. “You have a lovely home,” I told him.
“I’m glad you like it.” While he shut the door, I hurried to set my purse, keys, and phone on a nearby table.
“Aren’t you cold?” I asked as I took off my boots.
Gabe turned back to me, flashing a crooked grin. “The thought of you has been enough to keep me hot today.” He closed the short distance between us, and I let him draw me into his arms. His hands were instantly all over me, sliding down my back and lifting my sweater. He squeezed my ass in a firm grip. His kiss, however, was gentle, almost teasing.
I slipped my arms around his neck, eagerly returning that kiss. My hips instinctively moved against him.
He gave my bottom lip a playful bite, then withdrew. “Are you hungry?”
I shook my head. “We ate a late lunch, tons of leftovers.”
“How about a drink?” Gabe continued massaging my ass.
“Not yet.”
“How about the bedroom?” he whispered. In the soft lamplight, this man looked poised to devour me.
And I was willing prey.
I couldn’t suppress a nervous giggle even as I nodded my agreement. Gabe took my hand and led me deeper into the house. Studying my surroundings, I discovered the place was immaculate. For some reason, it was hard for me to imagine him dusting and vacuuming. Maybe he hired a cleaning service to do it. Every piece of furniture, and every object that rested upon various tables, seemed to have its designated place. I found myself aching to move that book on the coffee table just an inch to the left. Already, I wanted to leave my mark, albeit in a subtle way only he would notice.
His bedroom was austere. I liked that it had no television, only a neat stack of books on the nightstand. On the far wall was a stunning painting; one’s gaze was immediately drawn to it, for it was a splash of color in a sea of eggshell. It appeared to contain every conceivable shade of red, intricately blended in a perfect 12-inch by 12-inch square. I could have been looking at the unfolding petal of a rose, or the pleat of a scarlet dress.
“That’s beautiful,” I said.
Gabe’s eyes followed my stare. “I painted that, many years ago.”
My mouth dropped open. “You’re an artist? No one ever said.”
He seemed amused by my reaction. “Artist is overselling it, I think.”
“I don’t think so. I could stare at that painting for hours.”
Gabe moved to lift my sweater, and I immediately raised my arms. “You’re very kind,” he said, “but right now, I want your attention only on me.”
“You have it,” I promised in a quiet voice.
Once he’d pulled the sweater over my head, I hurried to smooth my hair. I had to smile at the way he neatly folded my sweater and set it aside.
I expected him to immediately turn his attention to my breasts, and I was more than ready to be stripped of my boring white bra. Instead, he lifted my chin. I let out a weak cry as he started wiping the makeup from my face with the pad of his thumb.
“What are you doing?” I demanded. Despite my less than impressive outfit, I’d spent a lot of time making sure my hair and makeup were perfect.
“I like you better without it.” Gabe was almost rough while removing my lipstick. In a silly form of protest, I stuck out my tongue to lick his skin. He merely chuckled. “When you came down to breakfast Friday, fresh from your shower, I wanted to bend you over the table and fuck your brains out.”
His words, so nonchalantly spoken, made me gasp. Then I had to laugh as well. “I don’t think Dad or Evelyn would have approved.”
“I had to exert a lot of self-control when we were in that house.” Satisfied with his work, he met my eyes and added, “But we’re here now.”
Finally, he cupped my breasts. Though I hurried to reach behind me and unclasp my bra, he was slow in lowering the straps from my shoulders. As if teasing myself, he exposed me a little at a time. Standing before him, I heard the heat spilling from the vents; the warm air, along with the flush of my growing excitement, kept me from shivering.
“My God, your tits are amazing,” Gabe murmured. My bra fell away, allowing him to fondle my nipples. He was tender at first, handling me carefully. It made the pinch he delivered to my right nipple all the more surprising.
I managed not to cry out, yet he studied my face while soothing the pain with his fingertips.
“Are your nipples very sensitive?” he asked.
I offered a helpless shrug. “I mean, it feels really good when you touch them like this, and I love it when you lick and suck them.”
“All in good time.” Stepping away from me, Gabe turned toward the nightstand. I watched as he retrieved several clothespins from the drawer. When was the last time I’d seen one of those? Maybe when I was a girl at my grandparents’ house.
Gabe’s expression grew earnest. Holding my stare, he said, “At any point, all you need to do is say stop, and I will. Remember, I’ll only do what you allow me to.”
Nervously, I licked my lips and nodded. I knew what he planned to do with the two clothespins he held, and with the one he left on the nightstand.
So when Gabe again approached, I readily thrust out my tits. Maybe he thought I was daring him, for he didn’t hesitate to clamp a pin around my left nipple, and then my right. While gazing down at my breasts, I tried not to wonder how long he intended to leave me this way. For now, the sensation was merely uncomfortable, but I feared that would soon change.
I heard Gabe breathing faster; the sight of my pinched nipples clearly excited him. No longer teasing, he sank to his knees before me, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of my leggings. The pants were skintight, revealing every curve to his view. He gave the fabric a strong tug, bringing my panties down as well. I noticed him staring at my pussy, which had only grown wetter since he’d played with my tits.
I’d shaved myself smooth just that morning. Leaning forward, Gabe used the tip of his tongue to delve between my puffy outer labia.
“Oh, you’re dripping,” he said, his breath hot on my skin.
“I got excited on the way here, and of course, just now…” I replied by way of apology.
He gave me another lick, this time grazing my clit. “That night, after you got your pussy juice all over me, I hated to wash off the smell.”
I pressed a hand to my cheek, as if that would prevent me from blushing. It was squirm-inducing, the way Gabe so crudely spoke of my body. Again, I was struck by how different he was from the guys I’d recently been intimate with. They’d gone out of their way to be respectful.
I had a feeling Gabe sensed my embarrassment. If anything, it pleased him. As he stripped me out of my leggings and panties, I became acutely aware of the pain radiating through my nipples.
“These are starting to hurt,” I told him, gesturing toward the clothespins.
“They should.” Gabe rose to his feet and guided me toward the bed. “Lie down.”
I looked at his pearl-gray bedspread. It was pristine, without so much as a wrinkle. I felt ridiculous drawing back the covers while I had clothespins attached to my nipples, but I quickly obeyed his instruction.
The bottom sheet was luxuriously soft beneath me, and I let out a moan as my head sank into the pillow. Beside the bed, Gabe started to undress. He’d once mentioned that he enjoyed running, and his wiry body reflected it. Some of the hair on his chest had begun to gray.
When he lowered his jeans and underwear, I was treated to the sight of his hard cock. I’d felt and smelled and tasted it, but now, in the illumination of the bedside lamp, I could see every detail. The tip had slightly pinkened, and I noticed its prominent slit. I’d had fun teasing that hole with my tongue before. He’d trimmed his pubic hair since we were last together. His balls, which I’d all but neglected during the rushed blowjob, were quite large.
My breath caught in my throat when Gabe took the third clothespin from the nightstand. If he heard my dramatic gasp, he chose to ignore it. He joined me on the bed, and my gaze moved from the object he held to his erection.
Moments later, he was settled between my open legs. With his stare fixed on my exposed pussy, he gave his cock a few languid strokes. Despite my anxiety and the nonstop torment to my nipples, I was eager to watch him masturbate. It was such a private act, one I shouldn’t be able to witness, and that made it all the more arousing.
Finally, Gabe extended a hand toward me. His fingertips grazed my clitoris, and I moaned in response.
“Your clit’s on the smaller side.” The shadow of a smile played on his lips as he added, “For now.”
Using a little more pressure, Gabe coaxed that tender bud into swelling beneath his touch. I was soon writhing, desperate for more.
Instead of bringing me to orgasm, he used his thumb and forefinger to draw my flesh taut. With his other hand, he opened the clothespin. Looking up at me, his eyes held a question. Not trusting myself to speak, I merely nodded once.
“Breathe,” he urged just before the clothespin seized my clit in its fierce pinch.
Something like a wail escaped my lips, and I violently bucked my hips.
“Shh,” Gabe soothed. “I won’t leave it on long.”
The pain delivered to my clit was vastly different from the discomfort my nipples suffered. It was a raw agony, a pulsing wound.
Gabe ever so gently massaged the nub. His touch felt amplified, as if he were caressing exposed nerves.
“Beautiful,” he sighed, studying my pussy with the same admiration I’d shown for his painting.
I tried to stay still even as a layer of sweat broke out on my skin. Though I’d had the clothespins on my nipples for only a few minutes, I whimpered in relief when Gabe removed them.
Lying on his side, he lowered his head and wrapped his lips around my right nipple. While staring down at him, I noticed the expression of sheer rapture on his face. He was careful in suckling my tit, his mouth warm and soothing.
It fucked with my mind, the way this man could make me so aroused in the midst of my suffering. Pain and pleasure became indistinguishable; it led me to wonder how I’d ever experienced one without the other.
Gabe eased my upper body in his direction so he could latch on to my left nipple. Gingerly, I stroked his hair.
“Do you enjoy hurting me?” I asked in a tremulous voice. He lifted his head, and I immediately missed his mouth.
“To an extent,” he replied. Maybe I expected some shame to accompany his confession, but he merely stated his desire as a fact. “And do you enjoy me hurting you, Opal?”
I looked down at my tits, with their grotesquely elongated nipples, then said, “To an extent.” Echoing his words seemed the safest option at that moment.
Clearly pleased with my answer, he gave me a kiss. “Now I’m going to make you feel better, sweetheart.”
Tears welled in my eyes when Gabe gently released my clit from the clothespin’s grip. True to his word, he hadn’t made me endure it all that long. A tremor coursed through my body, for the pain remained intense even after I was free.
Gabe moved to lie on his stomach, with his face directly in front of my pussy. Tentatively, he flicked my swollen clitoris with his tongue. The sensation sent a jolt through me; beneath my lingering torment, pleasure strove to bloom.
Several sweeps of his tongue over my distended flesh convinced him I could bear more stimulation, and he circled my clit with his lips.
“Oh, fuck!” I whimpered through a sob. His suckling made not only my clitoris but my entire pussy pulse. I felt the ache deep in my core. Gazing downward, I found him staring up at me. The sight of his mouth pressed firmly against my cunt intensified my arousal. His lips, fervent as they were, caused some pain, but his eyes were almost worshipful as he studied my stricken face.
When he dared to gently, ever so gently, take my clit between his teeth, I felt as if I would levitate off the bed. My fingers sought out his hair; I pulled hard as a low scream emerged from my throat. Maybe he enjoyed a bit of pain as well, for my grip did nothing to dissuade him.
I began wildly shaking, my thoughts a blur as he nibbled and sucked. For an interminable moment, it all became too much. I couldn’t bear another second of his attention.
And then I came with a ferocity I’d never before experienced. My thighs clamped around Gabe, and I shuddered as if an electrical current were traveling through me. My hips bucked, forcing him to hold me down so he could continue punishing my tender clit.
“Please!” I begged. “I can’t…”
But I didn’t tell him to stop.
His tongue lashed me into oblivion, and I was inundated by another powerful orgasm, right on the heels of my first. I’d never had a second one so quickly! Always, I took a few minutes to recover when I masturbated.
I let out a guttural sound while writhing on the bed. Just as I’d confused pain and pleasure in my mind, I now struggled in Gabe’s grasp as my pussy continued its involuntary grinding against his face.
Reluctantly, he let me go, yet I hadn’t caught my breath before his mouth worked its way upward to claim mine. Trembling, I held him to me. He alternated between kissing and biting my neck; it was as if he couldn’t restrain his impulses.
Lifting himself up, Gabe reached between us. I was still breathing fast, still willing my pulse to slow, when I felt his tip at my entrance.
My eyes widened, and I wanted to cry out, Wait! I’d always been so careful, insisting on condoms with my previous partners.
Gabe stared down at me, his expression uncharacteristically patient. I sensed him reading my thoughts as clearly as if they were printed on a page. I was certain he discerned my anxiety.
He didn’t offer to get a condom. All the while, his cock exerted a faint but insistent pressure against my flesh. “Having second thoughts, Opal?” The challenge in his question was unmistakable.
I had a condom in my purse. It would take me just a minute to retrieve it.
But I didn’t…
