Tease by Missy Johnson

both Delaney and Amalie would be like.
    Interesting, in the very least.
    Pressing myself up against her, I gripped her chin, making her look at me. She looked genuinely scared, which was all part of the game for her. I brought my other hand up to her breasts, squeezing her nipple so tightly she yelped.
    “Shut the fuck up,” I hissed, pinching it again, harder.
    She swallowed hard, squeezing her eyes shut.
    I reached beside her on the wall for the baton. She told me once that it was a real police baton and she’d stolen it off the set of one of her movies.
    I tossed it in the air, catching the end before it slipped to the floor. “Why can’t you be a good girl?” I asked her, running the tip of the baton between her breasts. “Why do I always need to punish you, Amalie?” I asked.
    She whimpered in response.
    I ran the baton down the length of her stomach, over her soft mound, resting it between her moist lips. She shook her head gently, her eyes a mixture of fear and want.
    “Do you want to be fucked, Amalie?” I asked, sliding the baton inside of her.
    She sobbed, fighting against the constraints of the handcuffs.
    “I think you want this, Amalie.” I eased the baton deeper inside of her, my mouth closing over her nipple as I fucked her.
    She spat out the gag, her body jolting to the rhythm of the baton moving in and out of her wet pussy.
    “Oh god,” she cried, her hands clenching as her back pushed away from the wall, trying to push the baton deeper. “Fuck me, Coop. Harder!”
    “You’re nothing but a dirty little whore. This is what you deserve. Look at you, loving the feel of this thick steel rod as it moves inside of you,” I hissed at her. “Take it, Amalie.”
    She screamed, the handcuffs almost cutting through her skin as her body jolted as though it had been hit by lightning. She groaned softly as I withdrew the baton from her.
    I lifted it to my mouth and licked her taste off it as she watched me intensely. Tossing the baton aside, I un-cuffed her and pushed her to the floor. With my fist locked around a handful of her messy blonde hair, I guided her mouth to the tip of my cock.
    “Suck me,” I ordered. I didn’t wait for a reply; instead I forced my cock inside her open mouth. “Fuck, that’s good,” I murmured, resting my arms against the brick wall, caught off guard by the force of her mouth on my cock.
    God, she was good at giving head. Probably the best of all my clients—which, considering the kind of kinky shit some of them were into, said a lot. She engulfed the length of me, sucking hard, before slowly working my cock in and out of her amazing mouth, the feel of her tongue teasing the tip enough to make me come.
    “Oh yeah,” I gasped as she milked me dry, swallowing my release.
    “That was great.” She used my hands to get herself to her feet. Her cheeks flushed pink as she smiled. “Do you feel like a spa?”
    “Sure,” I replied. Sometimes I got the feeling being famous went hand in hand with being lonely.
    I followed Amalie out of the basement and into her bedroom. Her bathroom was the size of my apartment—well not quite, but not far off. She ran the spa and switched on the fifty-inch TV attached to the adjacent wall.
    “Get in. I’ll grab us a drink. Beer?”
    “A soda would be great,” I replied.
    She nodded and left me alone. I stepped into the deep tub, the water barely past my ankles. Sitting down, I put my head back and closed my eyes, completely exhausted and guilty about spending time with another woman when I obviously felt something for Mia.
    I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew the water was almost up to the top of the spa. I rubbed my eyes and yawned, just as Amalie walked back in. She carried a tray containing two sodas and a bowl of chips.
    “Thought you might be hungry.” She set the drinks and food down next to the spa, and then stepped in, the water overflowing slightly as she sank into the tub. “God that’s good,” she