It's been several days since you've seen each other but now you're out together at last. The only rule is No Touching... only watching... If he gives in he'll lose the game, and he really doesn't want to miss out on the prize, because the prize is you.
An intensely-charged erotic story about a woman who likes to be in control, previously published in the collection, You.
It should go without saying that this book contains scenes of an explicit adult nature, including oral sex and handcuffs.
"Okay, babe," I said, finally. "What's going to happen is this. You're not going to touch me all evening. Not going to lay a finger on me. Not going to put your arm around me when we leave, or take my hand while we walk the very short distance to the hotel I've booked. If you do, if you give in to the temptation to squeeze my hip, or brush against my arse... if you do any of that, you lose, babe, and you wouldn't want to do that."
"And if I manage to do that...?"
"Then you win, babe."
"What do I win?"
I put my hand back on the table, then, and you almost took it. Almost. You stopped, millimetres away from it.
"If you win," I told you, "I'm going to have to undress you and handcuff you to our bed."
"And then I'm going to have to strip. Slowly."
I took a button mushroom from one of the plates, and curled my tongue around its head before taking it whole into my mouth.
"And...?" I took my hand from the table, then, and ran the back of my fingers down from my neck to where the thin fabric of my dress drew a black band across my breasts.
"And then you're going to have to watch me play. I'm going to finger-fuck myself right over your face, so that you're stretching up as far as you can and can't quite reach me with your tongue. I'm going to play with toys until my juices are dripping down over your face and you're begging me to fuck you, begging me to suck you and I'm going to move down until I'm directly over your twitching, aching cock and drip my juices on it. I'm going to lean over it so that you can feel my breath on your balls, and all the time I'm going to be playing and coming and you're going to be bursting to fuck me with that beautiful gorgeous cock, and you're just going to have to watch me playing. And then, finally, if I haven't had enough by then, I'm going to let you loose, and after that I've no idea what's going to happen. Sound good?"
You stared at me. So close across the table, calmly sipping at my drink again. You could easily reach out and touch me... but you couldn't. You could sense that my feet were no longer tucked back under my chair, but ... you didn't move, didn't make contact.
You stared at me. You understood now. You had realised that right there in the restaurant, surrounded by dozens of people, I had you handcuffed, restrained: as sure as if I had you locked to the bedposts, you couldn't move, couldn't touch me.
About Polly J Adams
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Published December 8, 2011
by James Grieve Press.
Erotica, Literature & Fiction.