Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Vanilla is better with chocolate sprinkles

I thought this story would end up kind of short. It didn't seem like I'd have all that much to do here. But I was wrong. Wow, was I wrong.

This is a great request. Fun, interesting to write. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

When the Vanilla get a real taste of Chocolate


            I didn’t think she’d force me to pay up. Who would have expected that? She knows I’m not into that weirdo stuff. I like my sex the way normal people do it, thank you very much. The man goes on top, the woman on the bottom. If you really want to get wild, you can reverse it. That’s what’s normal; that’s what’s okay. I’m not into any of the other stuff.

            So then why did I agree to the bet in the first place? It’s like I said: I didn’t think Crystal would actually hold me to it. It’s just a stupid bet. Then again, she put up the one kind of sex that I do want to try. So would I have fucked her in the ass if I’d won? Yeah. Absolutely. So I guess I’m stuck with it. Otherwise, I’m a hypocrite.

            Doesn’t mean I have to like it. And I don’t like it. I don’t like the way the shackles feel on my wrists. They’re not metal or anything; more a kind of cloth covered rubber. And they Velcro shut, so it’s not even really binding. Still, I don’t like my hands being constricted. I don’t like the way the muscles in my shoulders are pulled just a little bit out of alignment. I don’t like my hands trapped behind my back.

            I don’t like it that Crystal is standing in front of me, her hand gently teasing at my cock. I don’t have to like that she undid my pants and dropped them to my ankles, and is now running the soft leather of a riding crop up and down my legs. I don’t have to like when she slides it slowly up the length of my cock. Yeah, I’m hard, but that’s just friction. I’m a guy; we get hard at a stiff breeze. It doesn’t mean being tied up gets me hard. Doesn’t mean that the riding crop gets me hard. It means that I’m a guy, and she’s a hot woman, standing there looking so sexy.

            And she does look sexy. Her strappy sandals with the high heels, leather wrapping around and around and around her legs, the black in sharp contrast to the pearly white of her skin. The long solid strip of leather down the front of her leg, like some kind of shin guard, isn’t as sexy. Yes, it curves around her, hugs tight to her leg. But it’s just a shoe. That doesn’t turn me on.

            Her skirt is leather, but that doesn’t mean anything. Guys have loved it when girls wear leather forever. Doesn’t make them a bunch of perverts. It just means that leather looks good on a woman. So does a corset. It makes her breasts stand out. She’s hot. That’s all it is.

            I don’t like the rest of it. I don’t like the feel of the leather strap she puts around my neck. I don’t like the way it tightens around my neck, still loose enough that I can breathe, but tight enough that I feel it there. It’s no different from a tie, just made of leather. I don’t get turned on when I put on a tie at work. Why would a collar turn me on? No, I don’t like this.

            The leather tip of the riding crop running up and down my shaft feels good, but not because it’s leather. It feels good because she’s touching my cock. Of course that feels good.

            “I don’t know if I’m going to let you cum,” she says. And that, right there, is how I know that I’ll never like this weird sex stuff. She doesn’t get to decide whether or not I cum. That’s part of sex. Hell, it’s the whole point of sex.

            “I might just spend a few hours teasing you. Bring you to the edge, then let you drift back down, let you get real calm again. That’ll make you beg. I think I’d like to hear you beg.”

            I shake my head.

            She laughs. “Oh, I’ll let you cum eventually. And believe me, it’ll be the best orgasm of your whole life. I’ll bring you to the edge so many times that when you finally go over, it’ll be the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced.”

            I don’t believe her. I know I’m not going to enjoy this.

            “Why do you think people do this?” she asks. “If they didn’t like it, why would they do it?”

            I don’t answer her. They like it because they’re freaks. But I don’t want to say that. I like Crystal, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings. Besides, maybe she’ll let me fuck her after I play her game for a while. There might be a point to this even beyond paying back the debt.

            She gets on her knees in front of me. I like that. Every guy does. And she leans in, runs her tongue slowly up the shaft of my cock. I moan, and find my arms pulling at the bonds around my wrists. I want so bad to grab her head, to push her mouth down and make her deep throat me. But these shackles, weak as they seem to be, they don’t budge. I groan in frustration.

            Crystal laughs a little, then wraps her lips around the tip of my cock and flicks it a bit with her tongue. I moan; that I like. That feels good. Just a few more minutes of that is all I need. If she’ll do that to me when I let her tie me up- well, if that’s how it works, she can tie me up any time she wants.

            I close my eyes, enjoying the moment, feeling the build of pleasure, and suddenly her mouth is gone. I open my eyes, confused and angry, to see her standing up again. And she slaps me. Right across the face. It doesn’t really hurt, but it is a bit of a shock.

            Only before I can say anything, she’s rubbing my cock again. Sliding her hand up and down slowly, gently. It feels great. She bends down and flicks her tongue against my nipple, circling it a bit while sliding her hand around.

            It’s not long before I start to moan again. I can get used to this too. It’s nice.

            But she stops. She stops, and there’s this swishing sound. Suddenly, there’s a sting of pain unlike any I’ve ever felt. She just smacked my nipple with her riding crop. It was all wet and feeling good, and she smacked it.

            I open my mouth to yell at her, but no words come out. They’re muffled by her tongue as she kisses me. One hand runs through my hair, and she presses her body, and all its leather, up against my naked skin.

            I pull at my shackles again, trying to wrap my arms around her, to pull her close to me. To really kiss her, that special kind of kiss that raises goose bumps. But I can’t move enough. I can’t get free.

            It’s frustrating, and I don’t like it. Sure, I like the kiss. And I love when she reaches down and starts rubbing my balls, sliding her fingers around them and teasing them a little bit. Nothing wrong with a little tease. I like that. But I don’t like all this bondage stuff. I don’t like this whole thing of her being in control.

            It’s a nice kiss. A great kiss. It seems to keep going and going, building and building. My balls start to get tight, and I give that little moan, ready to cum.

            Then her hand squeezes, and my balls get tighter. Too tight. Pain flashes through my body, agony that burns so hard I’m sure I can feel the shape of my nerves as the sensation rushes up through them. My eyes go wide, and she pulls her mouth off mine. She gives me a smirk, an evil smile, and squeezes harder.

            When she finally lets go, I drop down to my knees.

            “Ooh, I like you down there,” she says, shifting her feet a little bit. I’m in too much pain to say anything. “Tell you what. If you bend down and kiss my toes, I’ll let you cum.”

            She squats down and reaches forward, running the edge of her nails around the swollen head of my cock. She’s gentle, and it feels good. So good. I almost forget about the pain. “You have to kiss them all, though,” she says. “Each individual toe.” Her voice is raspy, sexy. Turned on, and as hard as I am. “Kiss my toes, and I’ll let you cum.”

            Then she lets go of my cock and reaches behind my head. She grips the collar and pulls it, choking me a little bit. “If you don’t,” she says, “Then you don’t get to cum.”

            She stands up again, and I have to get up with her; the way she’s pulling on my collar makes that clear. I can force in a breath, but it’s difficult, and I can feel the effort.

            She doesn’t let up the pressure. If anything, she pulls tighter. But she also grinds her body up against mine. She puts her mouth on my collar bone, nibbling gently, licking and sucking. I’m so turned on I can barely think. Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen.

            She lets go of the collar and moves her hands down between my legs, touching everything except my cock. Her mouth keeps moving around my collar, up to my neck, just under the collar. Then up over it. She runs her tongue over my ear, nibbles on my ear lobe, and her hand touches my cock with the kind of delicate touch you’d expect in a safe cracker.

            Then she grabs tight and starts to jerk me off. I grunt at the sudden change, barely able to think anymore. She moves back to my neck and bites again. But harder this time. Harder and harder. At first, it’s easy to ignore. It feels so good on my cock, I don’t need to worry about the teeth marks she’s probably going to leave.

            But then the pressure starts to increase. The pain gets more intense. My knees get a little weak, and I try to pull away. I’m just positive she’s going to draw blood. I pull away, but not too much. If I pull to hard, she might take some of my skin with her.

            As soon as I start pulling away, she stops. Stops biting, but also stops touching my now straining cock. She steps back and licks her lips, laughing a little bit. My shoulder burns, but it doesn’t seem like there’s actually any blood there. Maybe under the surface. Definitely going to leave a mark. Probably for a few days.

            “You ready to kiss my toes?” she asks.

            I don’t like this. I don’t like any of it. But god, I want to cum so badly.

            “We’ve only been at this for about twenty minutes,” she says. “I’ve got a whole lot of ideas.” She shrugs. “How long can you hold out? An hour? Two?” she laughs again and licks her lips. She steps forward, drops to her knees, and runs her tongue up my cock again, her eyes locked on mine to make it completely clear which of us is in control.

            My legs get rubbery, but I don’t cum. I want to so badly. It all feels so good. But I’m just not getting there. Not going over the edge.

            “Just kiss them,” she says. “One little peck on each toe. That’s all it takes. Do that, and I’ll let you cum.”

            I shake my head, but without any real conviction. She reaches forward and runs a fingernail along my shaft. Then she turns her head a little and gives me an incredibly sexy little pouting expression. “Please?” she asks.

            My eyes are almost rolling back in my head, and I barely flinch when she gives my cock a gentle slap. I slide down to my knees, trying to ignore the sound of her giggle.

            She steps back. “That’s it,” she says. “Good boy. Just bend over, just like that.”

            I thought her feet would smell. But I can’t smell anything but the leather. It’s kind of making me dizzy, but in a good way. No. I don’t like this kind of thing. I’m not into this sort of thing.

            “Just a little bit lower,” she says, her voice full of lust and encouragement. “Pucker up and kiss my toes. Start with the big toe.”

            I press my lip against the toe, feeling the slightly different texture of her toe nail. As I move to the next toe, I realize that it’s more than that; I can even feel where the polish is starting to break apart. By the third toe, I can feel the cuticles at the edge of her nails, and I can smell the leather even more strongly.

            Before I know it, I’ve moved on to the next foot. “You like that, don’t you?” She laughs. “Don’t try to deny it. I know you love it. You never said a word of complaint.” I press my lips against her toes for the eighth time. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. I still don’t.

            “You didn’t complain when I crushed your balls in my hand,” she says as I finish. She puts her other foot on my shoulder, gently holding me down, my lips still pressed against her foot, the leather straps pressed up to my nose. “You didn’t complain when I kissed you with the taste of your cock still on my tongue.” She laughs. I struggle a little, but she pushes me back down. Gently, but firmly.

            “You can deny it all you want,” she says. “But I think you liked it. I think you loved it. I think you loved ever second. And you’re going to cum so hard it will rewrite your DNA.” She giggles at that. Then she presses her foot a bit harder, grinding a heel into my shoulder. I grunt, but for some reason I still don’t say anything.

            “I promised you could cum,” she said. “And you can. But you’re on your own.”

            I start to pull at my shackles, and she laughs again.

            “You need help? Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”

            She pulls her foot away, and I sit back up onto my knees, my cock as hard as a rock.

            “I’ll give you a choice,” she says, squatting down to look me right in the eye, her lips still curled in a little smirk. “I’ll use my hand and have you spurting cum like a fountain in a couple of seconds if you want. Or I’ll use my mouth, give you the best blow job you’ve ever even dreamed of having.”

            She puts a finger on my mouth to stop me responding.

            “But if you want that,” she says, “You have to do something for me.”

            She stands back up, her hands on her hips as she looks down at me. “If you want to, bend back down, and kiss my boots. No, better still.”

            She smirks.

            “Lick them. You lick my boots, I’ll lick your cock.”

            She lets the words hang in the air.

            “Your call.”

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