Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

When she breathed out a soft, "Yes, sir," and it sank in that I had had her at my knees all this time, how I had stroked her hair.

I leaned back so that I could better make her "throatfuck" me, loving the sight. Everything about it was sensual in those ways you wouldn't expect. Her hair parted between my fingers in this neat way and her shoulders went tense with each time of my lowering her. Her breathing was softly erratic in these little whimpers that made me shiver. I worked her face until I couldn't think straight anymore.

Lily seemed to be able to tell, too. She paused to look up at me while I stared through a haze of pure need and desire, still a little unsure of these things. Her lips parted, though, and I realized she wasn't doing much better than I was. And Lily got this pink blush across her cheeks when she was so turned on, I'd already noticed. It was the kind of thing that would be adorable if it wasn't so damn sexy. She shook her hair back and hesitated, as if trying to decide something.

But then she undid my jeans, eagerly, while I helped her. She paused only one more time and that was to ask, "Can I show you something? One of the fantasies you told me so I can show you how good it feels?"

I laughed a little breathlessly, still not thinking straight. "Lily, if you think I could say no to you showing me anything right now, you're crazy."

She laughed along with me and it was that sexually shy kind of laugh that you have as a teenager when figuring out your first kiss together. It was somehow slightly innocent, while being definitely not. Hell, I had been married and divorced and felt like I was somehow new to everything all over again, but not in the awkward ways. Only in all the best ways. Lily helped me stand up and took her shirt off, so I got to see her in her lacy heart bra for the first time. And goddammit I'd known she had really great tits, but... She paused when I stroked her, when I gently brushed my thumbs over the top of her breasts. When I looked back up at her, she was smiling this wicked, delighted little grin and I felt this jolt.

Because she knew I was pleased and she was reacting to it. There was something heady about it, something wicked and sinful and still with just that right spin of innocence. She bit her lip mischievously and reached behind her to undo her bra, taking her time to tease me with it, so that I had to smile. "Maybe I should just keep it on instead-"

It was the perfect push. I tugged off her bra and there was a fair bit of assertiveness in the gesture, so that she giggled and then broke off with a moan when I stroked my thumb over her nipple. "That was just plain mean and manipulative," I answered playfully.

She nipped my jaw. "I'm going to make it up to you, I promise."

I looked back down, then rolled her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. "Oh, there's nothing to make up."

In answer, she whimpered and then seemed to say the next part in an involuntary exhale. "Oh, God, it's so good." I hesitated, but then I squeezed my fingers a little tighter. "Oh, please!" Her voice rose again like it did when she was excited, when I upped any sensation or gave her the thrill of threat. It was the kind of thing that made me realize something else. I was starting to really want to hurt Lily, to actually do it and not just because I had fantasized about it. It was because of those animated reactions of hers, those small things that made it so very clear that she wanted me to hurt her.

I hesitated again... and then I took a breath and pinched my nails into her nipples, digging them into the flesh. My eyes went wide with how it felt to press like that into such a tender area because it didn't even feel so very different, didn't even feel kind of violent. But it was the knowledge of what I was doing. And the fact that Lily arched, her tits lifting up and jutting out even farther while she made this eager, shocked sound. "Oh, it's so good!"

"God, Lily, you're amazing." I felt electrified. It was something about the way she reacted to every little touch, every squeeze, as if I could so easily control her with my fingers on her nipples. She was still arched to me too and she stared up at me with these wide eyes.

I was hesitant again, but that time it was a lot shorter. I had another image, another fantasy going through my mind and it was one that I could do a piece of, a small enough part that it wasn't so bad. I took both of her nipples in between my thumbs and forefingers again and then I tugged on first one, then the other, then back again. I thought of one of those darker fantasies. Lily was whimpering, whining, as if she was in pain with how aroused I was making her and it made me smile.

I really liked the thought of her in that kind of pain. I wondered what she'd do for an orgasm when she was like that, wondered how far she'd degrade herself. "Tell me what you're thinking? Please!"

She stared up at me and I bit my lip. I couldn't stop those pauses yet, not even for that when I'd been talking to her, but it was getting a lot easier. "I'm imagining how you would look with a cowbell." Her eyes went wide and her head fell back and she gave me this sound that was... wild. Uncontrolled. Animal. Without pretenses.

"Harder?" She whispered it like a plea. "Please?" I did it and I finally wasn't shy about it that time. Instead, I was smiling, staring down at her nipples between my fingers, pumping them in alternating pulls, thinking of filthier mental images. "Tell me more, please! Please?"

I raised my eyes back to her face and realized she was close to fucking orgasm off this. And I knew how to send her over the edge. It was one of those things like knowing to control her by her hair the last time. I just knew because it was impossible to consider and talk about these things without having some kind of intimacy where I noticed her reactions. So I knew what to do and Lily didn't let me have any room for doubt. I answered her softly, even so, trying to make the words gentle for what they were. "I'm thinking of you spritzing milk into a bowl and making you drink it."

She yelped, throwing her arms around my neck while I could smell her sex. What was more, she writhed against me, her face in my shoulder, and she was grinding herself against my side, riding out her bliss. She was shivering against me too, in this weak little way that made me want to do worse things so I could hold her in other, more disorienting moments. Because I really loved Lily's whimpering breath against my neck, her soft shocked shivers.

When she pulled back, her eyes were still glazed and she watched me while I was pent up with desire. I didn't expect what she did next, if I'm being honest with you. I just didn't think to expect it. If it had ended like that and if that was the thing she had wanted to show me, then that would have still been the perfect fucking night. She just made it better and Lily, very evidently, was not a one and done kind of person. She shimmied against me even if her face had that glow of satisfaction from an orgasm. "I wanted to show you something. Favor return."

I laughed. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." But she already had my total attention because she sat down in her chair and got oil out of her side table, which she stroked on her tits while I watched, my mouth going dry. I swallowed and she coated down the valley between her breasts until it had a silky, enticing shine. "Lily, I-"

You see, she had gotten some basic fantasies from me. She hadn't pressed me for many of the darker ones, having been sweet and patient with her questions. Apparently, she'd decided she had enough of being patient with finding out more and she'd decided to press me with the fantasies she already knew.

It was working, especially when I could still smell her arousal from her orgasm, especially after she had pressed against my side while I told her I was imagining milking her like a cow. She tugged me closer to her, smiling up at me with this look in her eyes. Like I said, a mongoose was death to a snake. She used the oil to lubricate me, where I stood over her at perfect height while she sat in her chair and I couldn't look away from her tits, from the way they glistened.

Lily sat on the edge of the chair, then knelt up a little instead for better height, so she could place my cock against her chest. And then she shook her hair back and clasped her breasts, pressing them together around me.

"Lily..." I loved her name, loved it. An innocent flower name for a gifted masochist. She made a low mewl of heated desire and lifted up and down, but she didn't have to do it very much. This was the kind of fantasy that didn't let me think about much either and she knew it. I covered her hands with mine, pressing them closer to make the feeling tighter, and lifted up to fuck her for myself. It made me growl a little, the sight of it. It was one of those things where the visual and the mental aspect turned me on so damn much, especially after watching her orgasm to my lactation fantasies.

This time, she was the one who said it out loud. "All I can think of is milk leaking from my tits while you do this now." My lips parted and the bubble of pleasure I felt turned almost painful in pressure. I moved my hands, still squeezing, so I could thumb her nipples, making her moan. "It's so sensitive after you toyed with them like that." I had to take deep breaths, fucking her tits slower, stroking myself up to almost touch her chin. Her eyes sparked with heat and need and then she whispered another thing, as if testing it. "I like thinking of you calling me your little cow slut."

"Jesus fuck, Lily." I choked it out when the bubble of pleasure finally burst from the pressure and I couldn't look away from it when I came, when she arched with a soft delighted cry. Cum pumped out onto her collarbone, around her throat, and I felt something feral at the way it looked. I thought of the way she'd looked with all those degradations written on her in black marker and wanted her to wear things like that cum under her clothes, too.

She stared up at me with this shy little smile, while I still felt numb with the shock of what she'd let me do, of how it had felt to cross the barrier between fantasy and reality. "I like it when you tell me things," she said with this sly little smile. "I like showing them to you if I can or thinking of close proximities to the things that aren't realistic. Your fantasies are great."

That did it. She broke me.

"I have a username on the fetish site where you post your pictures because someone mentioned it on your Morgan Le Pharaoh page," I finally answered. She froze and then a grin of pure joy broke across her face. "I like everything you took a picture of. The nails, the needles, the latex, the cat stuff, the cum drinking. You know when you asked me to go out to eat with you that day after you posted the pictures of the writing all over your body?" She nodded eagerly. "I masturbated when I got home because I was thinking of you sitting across from me with those kinds of words on your body."

I'd been scared she'd be angry or freaked out or something. I don't know. Look, I know that, logically, she probably wouldn't be shocked by much because of what all she was into, knew that she wouldn't blame anyone for seeing those pictures, but social anxiety doesn't shut up and it considers every possible bad outcome. But after that, in the wake of what she'd done? I finally just said it. And she didn't give me any of the bad possible reactions.

Her voice was excited and she said, "I have a permanent marker in the kitchen and the shorter island chairs are probably the perfect height so you can fuck my tits again."

"I really want to fucking do that."

Her laugh was almost delirious and she grabbed my hand, hurriedly trying to kick off her jeans so that I fell over her and kissed her instead, trying to help her get naked while she got distracted and yanked at my shirt, but she didn't seem to want to stop kissing me long enough to get it off. She whined when I curled my hand around her throat and I laughed in this giddy desire because I knew how to do it, how she loved it. We were still like two teenagers so that she was falling when trying to guide me back to her kitchen, her lips locked to mine. I was still laughing when I managed to get her on her island chair, when she was nipping up along my jaw, when I pulled the cap off the marker with my teeth and placed it on the tabletop. I laughed again when she writhed, watching me hold the marker with that excitement in her eyes. "Hold still," I finally had to tell her. "You're going to mess up my writing 'fucktoy' across your tits."

"Oh God, please!" She arched on the chair, whimpering up at me while I grinned, thrilled from how hot she was getting off of all of this. She really loved it. She stared down at my writing the word with this look that was molten with desire, the kind only Lily could make look quite so wide eyed and innocent. Her lips were open while she watched, her eyes glazed over. I glanced up at her again while I slowly finished up the 'y', meeting her stare for this moment that made me fix it in memory. Her eyes danced with happiness and her legs were spread, her pussy dripping with how wet she was from this.

Would you call me crazy if I said it might have been one of the most intimate moments of my life? She was excited like I was excited, horny like I was horny, playful while I was discovering the way fantasies could happen in this wild way. I kissed her again and she moaned into it so that I got to feel her desperation on my tongue again. "Want me to choke you out and call you worse names in marker?" I finally asked when she let me draw back.

"That sounds like the best idea I've ever heard."

I choked on more laughter again, clasping my hand around her throat so that she gasped, delighting to the feel of it when she couldn't breathe and the slight panic sank in. I held her still and wrote "cum pipe" over her pussy. And then I kept going while Lily drove me wild.

————

Lily

Arguably, whenever I finally broke through to him, I didn't even have to do much work after that. Well, besides teaching, I mean! But I'm just saying. He was into it.

I woke up feeling like I was on cloud nine. Alex had had to go home because he needed things like a change of clothes and neither of us had expected the night. God, he hadn't left until late, though, and he'd still been letting me kiss him these messy kisses. "I have to tell you goodbye!" I’d said when he had his hand on the doorknob.

It was somewhere around five minutes into my goodbye making out that he'd forced me back with his hand in my hair, his eyes alive. "I don't think you know what that word means."

"Five more minutes?"

"Lily!"

"So you can try slapping my face?"

I had squealed in laughter when he froze and then grabbed me. "Okay, five more minutes."

It had been like 15 more minutes and he'd done that thing he did, one of my favorite things, where he hesitated before he struck his palm against my cheek, careful and horny all at once with his slap. He moaned when I cried out into his kiss, then did it again so that I arched, nuzzling him in ecstasy and playfulness. The third slap was even slightly harder so that my cries turned all the louder.

"Lily, I'm one of those people who are terrible at existence if I don't get enough sleep."

That was the only thing that worked to make me let him go. Otherwise, I would have held him hostage and had him slap me more because I loved it and I loved how much he loved it, too. His mild gazes and his calm pacifism got this elation when he tried these things and then there was the way he'd just thrown caution to the wind and told me that he'd already seen all the pictures. I wondered what else he'd seen, what else he already knew. I was already thinking of ways to get him talking more because he had said he liked the really twisted kinds of play and then followed it up with how he liked my tit nailing pictures. Those were hardcore pictures, too! What taglines did he like for his story searches? Did he go down the drugging ones, the humiliation ones?

I finished my shower, feeling excited and horny and happy, then giggled when I looked in the mirror and the marker writing was still there, since that marker would take a week to wash off. The words 'pain slut' were across my thighs. 'Fuckwhore' was across my torso and that one made me bite my forefinger. He'd had me laid out on my floor and had been sucking one nipple in between writing the letters, squeezing my tits so that I moaned. "Bite me," I had whimpered.

He had done it, chuckling wickedly while he did.

It was amazing. He was amazing. I had to make myself get dressed for work, laughing at the thought of the words underneath my shirt, my slacks. I thought of my massive toy chest in my closet and all the fun things I had in it, distracting myself with thoughts of what to do next and how to go about it. Thank God most of my advertising work was on a coast for the moment and just needed monitoring because I was not entirely present with ad work that morning and I don't like being a bad employee. I had made it pretty high up in the ranks of my job by being good and likable and I wanted to keep it that way.

But when you're infatuated, things start to be like so many distractions and all I could think of was Alex. I was planning things and being manipulative and wily about it too, but not in the bad ways. I wanted to teach him, but I wanted to go about it the right way, you see, and I knew what it was like to be shy. I knew how easily things could suddenly seem awkward when you were worried about messing up or not doing things right and I didn't want him to have a bad experience with any of it.

So, rule number one was that if you gave power up to someone who wanted it and you stuck with it and set easy rules to begin with, then you created a decent starting point. Rule number two, I decided, was definitely twofold. It involved reassurance and going nice and easy.

Let me explain. For guys especially, there was a stigma on being in a position of power. It wasn't the kind of thing they were supposed to like over a female and they were told it was bad. That was just for taking power positions, so sadism like the kind Alex seemed inclined to? That was a hard thing to get through and it was all the more awful by the fact that he wasn't a sociopath because then he was forced to care. Add that to how he was shy and submissive in every other aspect? Jesus, that was a recipe for self torment.

But you want to know a secret? Guys have a stigma for wanting to submit, too. They're told they're not supposed to like that and girls are the same. If you like other girls, then some judgmental meme on the internet has made you think you're a slut or a bitch. If you like dominating in bed, then you're cold or not feminine enough half the time and that's the good parts. If you like Master/slave fantasies, it doesn’t get any better, either, because then you’re thought to be dependent and helpless. What I'm saying is that if it has to do with sex and kink and it feels good to a person, then they can find a million different reasons and internet sayings and ingrained judgment to shame themselves for liking it. But the truth is that everyone feels the same insecurity, anyone who judges is always living in a glass house of some kind anyway, the world is chaos, no one knows what's actually happening, and there's no rhyme or reason to anything.

Look, I work in advertising and I'm so good at it because I'm a cynic who thinks the only thing you can rely on is human greed. I've seen what makes people want to buy stuff.

So I didn't want Alex to have doubts. I didn't want to leave him wondering, like someone leaving you hanging with a Facebook message. The day after our play spree, I went down to visit him for lunch with the intention of keeping him company and talking about more books.