him inside.
He was thick and salty. The metal ring was cold
against my tongue. Although he kept his fingers knotted tight in my hair, his hips didn't move. He held perfectly still and let me explore his length with my mouth and hands. He smelled amazing, musky and masculine. I let his length slide deep into my throat, burying my nose in his thick hair.
His smell was strong and unbelievably arousing, and I whimpered.
"Tristan," he said again, his voice a hoarse whisper.
He used his hand in my hair to pull me away from his cock.
He angled my head up, as if to make me look at him.
"Will you wear more of the lace for me?"
Just the thought of it made me weak with arousal.
He had to be able to see what it did to me—the way my breathing sped up, the weakness it inspired in me. "Yes."
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He pulled me to my feet. He stopped once to kiss
me, but it was only a moment, and then his hands were tearing at my clothes. I aided him only in that I stood still and compliant while he undressed me. His touch felt amazing. His soft, low moans as he uncovered me made me giddy. The thought of what was to come made me ache.
He put something in my hands. I felt it, determining which item from my bag it was. The fabric was thin and stretchy, slightly rough and scratchy. They were pantyhose, made entirely of black lace. It hadn't been easy to find a pair that fit me.
He pushed against me, and it seemed I could almost
feel the tension in him. "Please," he said, and his voice shook.
"It will be easier to put them on if I'm sitting down."
He led me into the room, a corner of it I'd never
been in before, and pushed me gently backward until I was sitting on what could only be his bed. It made me
breathless, knowing where I was and where I was headed.
With him.
It took me a minute to sort out the pantyhose, but I finally figured out the front from the back. The first few times I'd tried to put on hose, I'd torn them by trying to shove my feet straight into them and down the legs, but I'd since learned to do it right. I bunched the fabric up in my
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hands so I could put my toes right into the foot of the hose.
First one leg, then the other. I stood up to pull them into place.
These were made for style, not comfort. The lace
was stretchy and a bit rough, continuing all the way to the waist. They hugged my scrotum and rubbed deliciously against my erect cock. I stood still, waiting for him to say something.
"Holy mother of the gods," he said at last, "you're exquisite."
The comment made me smile.
"Turn around," he said. "I want to see the back."
I obliged him, and heard him moan when I did.
"Get on the bed," he said.
I climbed onto it, on my hands and knees, my ass
pointing in the direction of his voice. He moaned again.
"Tristan, whatever self-control I have, I'm going to lose it the moment I touch you."
His words made me shiver. I wasn't sure my arms
could continue to hold me. "Good."
The sound he made was closer to a growl than a
moan. "Lie down," he said.
And I complied.
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CHAPTER 15
I lay on my stomach, trembling in anticipation. The hose made me feel tawdry and cheap, and yet, I found that feeling cheap, in turn, made me feel unbelievably horny. I wanted to be fucked.
I could hear Valero behind me. I heard a drawer
open, the sound of a lid being spun off a glass jar. I hoped it was lube. I hoped he would touch me soon. I ground my erection against the bed, and behind me, I heard Valero moan.
"Please," I said. I couldn't think of anything more than that one word. Please, please, please.
The bed shifted as Valero climbed onto it. He
pushed my legs apart. His hands traveled up my thighs and I whimpered, wanting so much to feel him touch me more.
I reached up and gripped the headboard. I felt the need to steady myself, to somehow ground myself lest I be washed away in this tide. Valero's hands reached my ass. They
He was thick and salty. The metal ring was cold
against my tongue. Although he kept his fingers knotted tight in my hair, his hips didn't move. He held perfectly still and let me explore his length with my mouth and hands. He smelled amazing, musky and masculine. I let his length slide deep into my throat, burying my nose in his thick hair.
His smell was strong and unbelievably arousing, and I whimpered.
"Tristan," he said again, his voice a hoarse whisper.
He used his hand in my hair to pull me away from his cock.
He angled my head up, as if to make me look at him.
"Will you wear more of the lace for me?"
Just the thought of it made me weak with arousal.
He had to be able to see what it did to me—the way my breathing sped up, the weakness it inspired in me. "Yes."
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Space
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Sexton
He pulled me to my feet. He stopped once to kiss
me, but it was only a moment, and then his hands were tearing at my clothes. I aided him only in that I stood still and compliant while he undressed me. His touch felt amazing. His soft, low moans as he uncovered me made me giddy. The thought of what was to come made me ache.
He put something in my hands. I felt it, determining which item from my bag it was. The fabric was thin and stretchy, slightly rough and scratchy. They were pantyhose, made entirely of black lace. It hadn't been easy to find a pair that fit me.
He pushed against me, and it seemed I could almost
feel the tension in him. "Please," he said, and his voice shook.
"It will be easier to put them on if I'm sitting down."
He led me into the room, a corner of it I'd never
been in before, and pushed me gently backward until I was sitting on what could only be his bed. It made me
breathless, knowing where I was and where I was headed.
With him.
It took me a minute to sort out the pantyhose, but I finally figured out the front from the back. The first few times I'd tried to put on hose, I'd torn them by trying to shove my feet straight into them and down the legs, but I'd since learned to do it right. I bunched the fabric up in my
123
Blind
Space
Marie
Sexton
hands so I could put my toes right into the foot of the hose.
First one leg, then the other. I stood up to pull them into place.
These were made for style, not comfort. The lace
was stretchy and a bit rough, continuing all the way to the waist. They hugged my scrotum and rubbed deliciously against my erect cock. I stood still, waiting for him to say something.
"Holy mother of the gods," he said at last, "you're exquisite."
The comment made me smile.
"Turn around," he said. "I want to see the back."
I obliged him, and heard him moan when I did.
"Get on the bed," he said.
I climbed onto it, on my hands and knees, my ass
pointing in the direction of his voice. He moaned again.
"Tristan, whatever self-control I have, I'm going to lose it the moment I touch you."
His words made me shiver. I wasn't sure my arms
could continue to hold me. "Good."
The sound he made was closer to a growl than a
moan. "Lie down," he said.
And I complied.
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Space
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Sexton
CHAPTER 15
I lay on my stomach, trembling in anticipation. The hose made me feel tawdry and cheap, and yet, I found that feeling cheap, in turn, made me feel unbelievably horny. I wanted to be fucked.
I could hear Valero behind me. I heard a drawer
open, the sound of a lid being spun off a glass jar. I hoped it was lube. I hoped he would touch me soon. I ground my erection against the bed, and behind me, I heard Valero moan.
"Please," I said. I couldn't think of anything more than that one word. Please, please, please.
The bed shifted as Valero climbed onto it. He
pushed my legs apart. His hands traveled up my thighs and I whimpered, wanting so much to feel him touch me more.
I reached up and gripped the headboard. I felt the need to steady myself, to somehow ground myself lest I be washed away in this tide. Valero's hands reached my ass. They
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