6 comments/ 69582 views/ 20 favorites Sweet & Sour By: Teased and Denied Sweet and Sour I've found it's the unexpected that makes life worth living. If you're not careful, every day can start to feel the same and blur together and before you know it, another year has gone by. It's depressing. Introducing a new element into your life can change everything, if even just for a moment. I'm not what you'd call impulsive, but I've lately tried to incorporate more of that quality into myself. It started in small ways, just getting in my car and driving somewhere new, or striking up a conversation with a stranger. I'd try a type of food I'd never had before, wander into a store or bar I hadn't visited. Nothing extreme, mind you, but it was enough to keep me going. Plus it kept me out of trouble. I had a tendency to fall for the wrong women, and this was a cycle I was determined to break. I'd been single over a year when this story took place, and this was by conscious choice. Besides some random feelings of loneliness, I was doing just fine on my own. I'd found women could be too much trouble. The last woman I'd been with two months prior had been nothing besides mixed signals and confusion, so I was taking an extended break. No dating, no fooling around. I knew, logically, this was for the best. But it's not always easy to make your brain and your other parts agree. Logic means little in the face of lust. So I had my little crushes, although I did my best to ignore them. One of these crushes was named Aria, and she was a coworker. Pretty young thing, working in the same department as me. I know, I know, bad idea. It was a mistake I've made in the past, but I couldn't help it. She was utterly gorgeous. Possibly one of the most beautiful women I'd never known. She was short, really short. Round and curvy, but not actually fat. Her breasts were huge and she always wore tight, low-cut shirts that displayed her cleavage to best effect. Long, silky black hair, dark smooth skin, and a smile that made me forget what I was doing whenever she flashed it at me. She's not the one this particular story is about, although she does factor in. As I said, I was doing my best to avoid entanglements. Especially the kind that happen with coworkers. Plus she was way younger than me, and that's proven to be a problem in past relationships. (Not that I was thinking relationship, exactly. More like animalistic fucking in every possible position.) Lusting after her was driving me crazy, so I avoided her as much as possible, but spending eight hours a day in the same building, our paths still crossed. Every time I ran into her, I couldn't help but check her out (as discretely as possible). It was frustrating, but the cons outweighed the pros, so I kept myself from making that mistake. And then I ran into her at the gas station. At this point I'm going to back up and explain who this story is really about. There's a gas station a couple minute's drive from where I work. When I'm too lazy to pack a lunch, I go there to grab a sandwich, chips, maybe a slice of crappy reheated pizza. It gets me out of the building and shakes up my day a little. Well, those are the excuses I would give myself. The real reason I went there so often was because of one of the clerks. I didn't take much notice of her at first, although the first time I saw her, I did note she was cute. She was a fair height (maybe 5'7") and slender. She had brown hair tied back in a braid and black-rimmed glasses framing pretty light blue eyes. Her clothes were not revealing—baggy jeans, sneakers and a loose tee shirt under an open zip-up hoodie. (I've come to think of this as her "good girl persona".) I didn't end up at her register that time, but she said hello and nodded politely at me in between her customers. A week went by and I visited again. This time she was completely different. I had to do a double-take to make sure she was the same girl. She didn't have her glasses on, her hair was down and loose, and she'd dyed a lock of it hot pink. She was wearing a tight tee shirt and even tighter jeans. Her sneakers had been replaced by boots. I hadn't noticed last time, but she had a nose ring and six studs in each ear. There was a tattoo of an intricate star on her right wrist. She wasn't working at the registers that day, she was restocking cigarettes behind the other two cashiers and dancing. There was some 80's pop song playing on the radio and she was dancing along to it, shaking her ass back and forth, singing softly. There was someone in line ahead of me, so I had a bit of time to watch her. I tried not to stare, but I couldn't look away. Like I said, I live for little unexpected moments, and I certainly hadn't expected this. Her previous attire had been comfortable, not meant to catch the eye like what she was wearing that day. Her body was fit, taut. She had a slight frame, but there was a nice curve to her hips, bottom and breasts. After dancing for awhile, she spun and came face to face with me. She broke into a sunny grin and waved the pack of cigarettes she was holding at me. I smiled back and she turned away to continue stocking. It was my turn to pay, and the lady who rang me up chuckled. "Don't mind her," she said, smiling. "She's kinda crazy." The dancing girl didn't miss a beat as she called out, "You're crazy. I'm just dancin'." She bopped her way into the backroom, returning with another box of cigarettes and gave me a wink. I smiled, paid and left. She'd gotten my attention that time, I can say. I saw her again a few days later and she was back in her good-girl disguise. (Or was the other one a disguise?) Another time I saw her outside the station having a cigarette and yelling angrily at a guy who'd been hitting on her. I didn't catch the whole thing before I entered the building, but it was something about finding a new home for the gas nozzle he was holding. For such a small thing, she made herself pretty imposing. When I left with my lunch, she was at the other end of the sidewalk, talking on her cellphone. The months went by and I became increasingly confused by her. I couldn't get a bead on this girl. Sometimes she was calm and quiet, shy almost. Other times she would dance and sing without reservation. She was scathingly sarcastic to her coworkers and even her boss. (Especially him, actually.) She was clearly much better versed in the job than he was, and several times I saw her showing him where things were kept, how to access things on the computer, how to order things. She treated him like a teacher would treat a less than bright student—a mixture of patience and exasperation. Some days she was a loudmouth, some days meek. The streak in her hair kept changing colors (Navy blue looked good on her) and I caught a glimpse of two more tattoos. A butterfly on her ankle and the other was at the small of her back. I couldn't tell what that was at first, since I only saw it briefly when she was crouching behind the counter to get something for her boss. Every time she rang me up, she was pleasant and professional, sometimes with a smile and small talk, other times quiet and moody, like something was bothering her. After breaking it off with the girl I mentioned earlier, I got serious about ignoring all female distractions, so I stopped going to the gas station for a few weeks. When I dropped back in to fill my tank one day, she was the only open register. She cheerfully said hello and commented about how I hadn't been in lately. We exchanged small talk (the weather, the nearness of the weekend, etc.) and I left. The next time, after I walked in she went to restock a display of beef jerky and crouched down to get at the bottom shelf. Her jeans pulled down, exposing the edge of pink lacy panties and the top of her ass crack. I got a good view of her tattoo. It was a very well-done pair of angel wings. She glanced back at me, as though checking to make sure I was looking and gave me a smirk. That was when I learned her name. The cashier who was ringing me up, an older lady who was usually grouchy, said "Laney, get back here and help me." Laney continued messing with the jerky, saying "This needs done first." "No it doesn't," the lady snapped. "There are customers waiting." (There was just one guy behind me.) Laney stood and turned, pointedly looking at me for a moment with an arched eyebrow and said, "Well, what are they waiting for?" With that she went to her own register to ring up the other guy. That exchange left me confused, especially as I was walking back to my car and realized she hadn't actually been stocking the items on the display, just moving them around. I began to wonder if she was trying to get my attention. I decided it didn't matter if she was or wasn't. She was all over the place and I still didn't know what to make of her. Sometimes being sexy isn't enough. The next time I stopped by was even more dramatic. She was dancing again, hair loose and twirling, the streak green. Instead of jeans she was wearing snug black yoga pants. She was wandering around the store wiping up exposed surfaces seemingly at random with a cloth and squirt bottle. My eyes kept wandering to her as I waited in line. She was enchanting. I desperately wanted to see her whole body with nothing in the way. I was disturbed from my appreciation of her by a gentle throat-clearing ahead of me. It was my turn, the cashier was waiting. This wasn't the grumpy one, it was the cheerful lady, and she was giving me a knowing smile. As she rang up my items, she called out to her coworker, who was at the door wiping the glass and singing along with the song that was playing. "You're distracting the customers, Laney honey. Knock it off." Laney glanced at her, then at me, beaming. She said, "Aw, he doesn't mind, do you?" She turned her back to me and shook her ass back and forth rhythmically—and what an ass it was. Small, tight, but still round. She looked over her shoulder at me and added, "I'm shakin' it just for you." I couldn't help but smile and look down, which made my cashier laugh. "Crazy kids," she commented as she bagged up my lunch. I went to leave and Laney had moved to the opposite end of the store, singing more loudly as she wiped the beer cooler down. I couldn't get that encounter out of my mind. It was clear she was showing off, trying to get my attention, but why? And what should I do about it? Normally I'm not so unsure of myself, but there was something about her that unsettled me. I'm not a shy guy by any means, just hesitant after my bad experiences of late. I decided, after thinking it over for the rest of my lunch break, that my best course would be to start avoiding the gas station again. This was escalating, and Laney was becoming too much of a temptation. I had promised myself I would avoid trouble. That girl had trouble written all over her. Still, despite my best efforts, I couldn't stay away. I went back two days later on Friday, this time to grab a drink. Sure, I could have gotten one out of the vending machine at work, but I figured what the hell? I needed out of the building. As I was reaching into the cooler, I heard a sweet voice say, "Jared?" I looked up. It was Aria. I hadn't realized she was on lunch break too. "Oh. Hey," I said, awkwardly. All that trouble to avoid her and she ended up finding me. It figured. "How's your Friday going?" "Oh, it's been fine," she said, blinking her pretty brown eyes at me. "So, I was wondering something but didn't want to ask at work. You wanna get a drink with me sometime?" "Sure," I said automatically, immediately berating myself for it. Why had I accepted? This was a mistake. I was trying to avoid women, not get drunk with them. I was going to end up in an awkward situation with another coworker. But it was too late to take it back. "Great!" she said happily. "I'll give you my number." We pulled out our phones and exchanged numbers and she bustled away to make her purchases. I got my drink and slipped my phone into my pocket. I nearly ran into Laney, who was stocking a shelf two feet away. "Oh, hi," I muttered, hurrying away to the counter. She'd been smiling a little too widely at me and it worried me. I bought my drink and headed out to my car. As I was unlocking it, I heard Laney's soft voice from right behind me. "Hey. You got a sec?" I faced her, saying, "Yeah, I'm on my break." "Me too," she said, looking shy. It was a strange look on her. She was dressed good girl that day, the green streak in her hair tied back into a pony tail with the rest. "I've been wanting to talk with you for a while now," she admitted. It was odd to see her so hesitant. She seemed confident and outspoken most of the time. "Really?" I asked, not sure what else to say. The way she was acting was throwing me off. "Yeah. Are you single?" "I am," I told her. "You?" "Currently. So," she said, kicking a rock and watching it skitter into the parking lot where it nearly hit a parked car. "I get off work at six," she continued, fixing me with her sky-blue eyes. "Yeah?" I asked. I wasn't trying to be aloof, I just didn't want to say more until I knew exactly what she was after. She smirked and just like that, good girl was tucked away. She said, "Playing it cool? Fine. I'll just come out with it. No more beating around the bush. I want to get to know you. If you're not busy, I'd like you to come over to my place for drinks. Around seven?" I can't say there was any hesitation on my part. I had a vivid flashback at that moment of her dancing around the store in her tight yoga pants. Add to that the expectant, almost nervous look in her pretty blue eyes and the shy tone she'd used to ask me. (I'm a sucker for shy.) I was lost . . . if this was a mistake, at some point I'd decided I was going to make it. At least it would be a pretty mistake. "Yeah, alright," I said, giving her a smile. Her face lit up. "Cool cool. I'll text you my address later." She started to bounce away. "Wait—you need my number!" I called after her. "No I don't!" she said, twirling and waving her phone at me. "I was spying on you talking with your . . . friend." She stuck out her tongue and disappeared around the corner of the building. I was still smiling when I got back to my desk at work. I found myself looking forward to that night. The way I figured it, I'd made my quota for the unexpected in just one visit to the gas station, so regardless of how the evening went, I wouldn't be feeling the sameness of life for a while. I couldn't focus on anything productive for the second half of my day. All I could see was the hopeful look on her face as she waited for my response, how timid she was when she asked me over. And then the teasing smirk, the fact that she'd snagged my number by eavesdropping . . . the girl was impossible to get a handle on. I had no idea what to expect from the visit. But no matter how hard I tried to keep myself from getting my hopes up, I felt there was a real chance I was going to get laid. Finally, quitting time arrived. I went home, had an early dinner and got ready for my visit. True to her word, she texted me her address right at 6. Shortly after 7, I was parking outside her apartment building. Steeling myself, I headed inside and located her apartment. Laney answered the door in plaid boxer shorts and a tee shirt way too small for her. It didn't come down all the way and showed off her flat tummy. This was the first view I'd had of her legs (although the yoga pants didn't leave much to the imagination) and they were long and smooth, perfectly shaped. Her long hair was in pig tails and she wasn't wearing her glasses. She looked unbelievably sexy. She grinned at me, obviously enjoying my attention. (I hadn't made a secret of checking her out.) "Hey. Glad you showed. Come on in. Want a beer?" "Yeah," I said, stepping in and slipping off my shoes. She left the room, coming back shortly with two bottles. She handed me one and gestured to the couch. As I sat, she put on some music—something fast like you'd hear in a dance club. Once that was done, she stepped up onto the couch, standing on it for a second before sitting down, folding her sexy legs beneath her. She took a swig of her beer and smiled at me. "I've wanted to have you over for a long time now Jared. You know, to hang out. Or whatever." Her tongue darted out quickly, running over her lips. I took a drink of my beer too, mostly just to distract myself. "Yeah, hanging out's good," I said, feeling incredibly lame as soon as it left my mouth. I was still unsettled. I hated the feeling. Laney was still smiling, looking at me steadily. She was running the mouth of her bottle over her lips, thoughtfully. Abruptly she asked, "What do you think of me?" The suddenness of the question took me off guard, but she had that expectant look on her face again, so I answered honestly. "I have no idea what to think of you, Laney." She seemed pleased by that response—her eyes lit up and the smirk was back. She prompted, "Go on. Now I'm really curious." It felt like shaky ground, but I had nowhere to go besides forwards. "Well, one day you're quiet and calm, the next you're dancing around and singing. You go from being professional and courteous to snarky and outspoken." I took a sip of my beer and, as an afterthought added, "And you're incredibly cute. I think that about covers it until I learn more." The smirk had been replaced by a genuine smile and her eyes were tipped down. She flicked them up to me and then away. "Yeah, I guess I can be a little . . . erratic," she conceded. "I promise I don't have multiple personalities or anything. It's just my moods shift really fast and I follow them wherever they lead me. It's more fun that way. Like this—I wasn't planning on asking you over, but I saw you with that girl today and thought, it's now or never. She looked like she was planning on snatching you up and I didn't wanna miss my chance." I found this interesting—was Laney saying she wanted me? I didn't let myself stop to consider it. Instead, following a whim of my own, I asked her, "Okay, your turn. What do you think of me?" She didn't have to ponder her response like I had. "I think you seem like a good guy. Smiley, not a creep. Sure of yourself. Maybe a little dense—you have no idea I was flirting with you in the store, do you?" I chuckled. This talk was starting to put me back on even footing. It was relieving to know she wasn't a complete nut. (I admit, the possibility had crossed my mind.) "I had my suspicions." That made her smile wider. "And you're cute. Not gonna lie-- that matters too." "Well, thank you," I said. Personally, I didn't think I was anyone to take notice of, but I'd gotten my share of compliments. I'd found it was best to take them with a smile. "What kind of girl do you go for?" Laney asked, sipping from her bottle. "Like, your type?" I thought of the difference (physically and personality-wise) between Laney and Aria. The last woman I'd been with had been slim and my age, the one before that chubby and young. I was all over the spectrum. "I'm not sure I have a type," I told her. "Aw, everyone's got a type," she insisted. "Do you like submissive girls? The take-charge sort? Big boobs, nice ass? Athletic? What?" She poked me in the ribs with her index finger and mock whined. "Telllll meeee!" She wasn't going to let it go. "Alright, alright, lemme think," I said, swatting her hand away as she tried to tickle me. "Really, it depends on the girl. I guess if I'm on the spot and have to choose, I prefer the submissive types. But take-charge is good now and then too. I can't resist a woman who knows what she wants. Eliminates the confusion—I hate having to guess and play games. Breast size and body type doesn't matter. Race either. Physically, I'm drawn to most types." She nodded, seeming to be satisfied. Without waiting for me to ask, she answered her own question. "I like strong guys. The kind who knows what he wants and takes control. Yeah, it's nice to pounce on a guy sometimes, but I prefer when a guy is confident. When he does the pouncing for me." She finished her beer and set the bottle on the coffee table as she continued. "The last guy I went out with, I brought him back here after. Droppin' signals, batting my eyes, you know. And then the dude asks if he could kiss me. You believe that? Why the hell would you ASK? Just freaking DO it, ya' know? It annoyed me, so I told him to leave. At first I didn't think he was gonna. He got all mad. To be honest, it kinda turned me on. The risk, I mean. I'm not worried when I'm alone with a guy. I take Krav Maga, and I can take most guys if I need to. I'm scrappy. But he didn't try anything, just stormed off all pissy. Wimp." Sweet and Sour Smiling, I finished my beer too and set the bottle next to hers. My suspicions had been confirmed—she was a badass. And besides that, her telling me this story seemed a not-so-subtle hint. If I wanted something to happen that night, I'd have to push, just a little. I could do that. "Yeah, that guy doesn't seem worth your time," I agreed. "Such a waste," she sighed. "People hold back way too much. Life is fucking short. If you want someone, you have to let them know, otherwise you miss out. You never know when a stranger could become something more. Anyone can be amazing." As she'd talked, I half turned so we were facing each other. I was lost in those incredible blue eyes of hers, and was only able to look away from them to examine her lips. Were they really as soft as they looked? I wanted nothing more at that moment than to find out, so in the spirit of the conversation, I did. I tipped her chin up with the crook of my index finger, leaned in and kissed her. She opened her mouth and kissed back hungrily, moaning softly into my mouth. I put my hand on the side of her face and ran it back to cradle her neck, keeping her supported as I leaned in more, pushing her back so I could climb on top of her. She stopped kissing me long enough to mutter, "'bout damn time," and then went back to the kiss. Our crotches pressed together as I thrust, as though I could fuck her through our clothes. She moaned at the pressure and it sounded like a whine. I cupped her right breast through her shirt. It was firm and just a bit more than a handful. She gasped. I broke the kiss and my voice was almost a snarl in her ear as I said, "I don't want to take my time. I want to fuck you hard and fast, Laney." "Than do it," she gasped, turning her head and exposing her neck to me. It looked tender and the temptation was too great, so I bit it. Not hard, but certainly not gently. "Ah! Shit," she whined, grinding her pussy against my covered erection. We were wearing too many damned clothes. I got off of her and helped her up so we were standing together in front of the couch. She looked up at me, expectant again. A lock of her hair had come loose and was hanging between her eyes. The clash of the blue and green was striking. I pulled her shirt up but not off, exposing her. I clutched her tits, one in each hand, rubbing the nipples with my thumbs, then pinching them. "Mmm, yeah," she murmured, throwing her head back. I yanked her shorts down and cupped her pussy with one hand as I stood back up to kiss her again. She was drenched down there, her wetness soaking my fingers upon first contact. I slipped my index finger into her, hooking it and she groaned, wriggling herself on my hand. I rubbed her hard little clit with my thumb and had to put my left hand at the small of her back to keep her from swooning backwards onto the couch. I slipped my middle finger inside her and rubbed harder as she bucked against my hand. My left hand dropped to her ass and I cupped one cheek firmly. Her ass tensed up and she cried out in orgasm, her fluids running over my fingers, her cunt gripping me spasmodically. Not giving her time to recover, I put my hand at her back and guided her to the left side of the couch, turning her around. She looked at me over her shoulder, her eyes hazed over with pleasure, wondering what I was up to, but just letting me pose her. I spread her legs and unzipped my pants. She figured out what I was after, and with a sexy smile she put her hands on the arm of the couch and tilted her hips, presenting herself to me. I pulled my pants to mid-thigh and positioned myself behind her, putting my rigid cock at her slick entrance. I rubbed it back and forth for a few seconds, teasing her. She made another whining sound and wriggled around, trying to entice me to stick it in. Without warning I did, slamming all the way inside her with one quick jerk of my hips. Fuck, she was tight. I hadn't been expecting that, but she was wet and ready, so her tightness didn't offer any real resistance. "Ohh, shit!" she shouted, her head dropping down. I put my hands on her waist and started thrusting, not wanting to make it last. She wanted someone to take her—I was going to take her. It only took a few of these solid thrusts before she was cumming again, drenching my cock in her warm fluids, making it even slicker. There was a wet sound with each slam into her, and this turned me on even more. I was also enjoying how vocal she was. After her orgasm passed, she started spurring me on loudly, crying out things like, "Oh yeah, fuck me!" and "Harder! Pound the shit out of me!" My favorite was when she threw a steamy look at me over her shoulder and said, "That's right, take me you fucker!" I enjoy noise during sex, but I'd never been with someone so outspoken during the actual act. Her encouragement did the trick—I drilled her harder and faster, feeling myself coming close as she climaxed again. My groans must have gotten her attention, because she stopped cheering me on and asked, "You gonna cum?" Her voice was breathless—I hadn't slowed. "Yeah," I grunted, gripping her hips firmly as I thrust. I was right on the verge. "Cum on me," she pleaded. Hearing this was the last trigger. I pulled out and she quickly spun, sitting on the arm of the couch and grabbing her own tits, squeezing them, holding them up for me. Taking my cock in my hand, it only took two strokes to get over the edge, I was that close. Groaning, I sprayed her with my spunk, the first blast missing her tits and hitting her on the cheek. The second spray hit the target, as did the third. Looking delighted, Laney wiped the glob of cum from her cheek into her mouth, licking her fingers. Some of it was oozing down her neck, but she left that alone, trailing her fingers in the sticky mess on her tits. I watched her, pulling my pants the rest of the way down and stepping out of them. "That was fucking hot," she whispered, licking her fingers clean. She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it over her shoulder. "Now that," she continued, standing and sliding her hands down my chest, "is what I was looking for. And that was you NOT holding back? Shit . . . " She wrapped her fingers around my still-hard cock and turned, leading me by it out of the room. I followed along, wondering what was going to happen next. The night had already been far beyond expectations. It turned out we'd just had the warm-up and there was still a lot to come. She led me into her bedroom and flicked on the lamp next to her bed. "Ready for me to take charge?" she asked sweetly, letting go of my cock and pulling off my shirt. She caressed my chest again. "Hell yeah," I replied huskily. "Mmm, good. 'cause I was gonna anyway," she teased, shoving me backwards onto the bed. "Lay back. I need to get something," she ordered, crossing to her bedside cabinet and kneeling as she opened it. I scooted back, lying on her bed. She stood, dangling a pair of handcuffs from each index finger. She looked at me questioningly. My only reaction was a grin, so with a predatory look on her face, she crawled onto the bed. She grabbed my right wrist and cuffed me to the bedpost. Then she leaned over me to do the same with my left wrist, inadvertently smearing some of my drying sperm on me as she went. Once I was chained, she climbed off the bed and stepped back, looking me over. "Mmm, can't leave you all slimy like that," she commented, her eyes on my cock. The excitement of being chained to the bed (something I hadn't tried before—at least not with me being the one bound) and at her mercy, had kept me semi-hard. She crept back onto the bed, seizing my cock with one hand, the other braced against my leg. She started running her tongue up one side and then the other, getting it wet, licking off our mingled cum. Then, when I was clean and completely erect, she took me into her mouth, just a little at first, an inch at a time until she was down to the base. I could feel myself hitting the back of her throat and she gagged a little, so she encircled the base with her fingers. Using that as a buffer, she started sucking me fervently. When I started to moan she stopped, switching to using her nails instead, scratching lightly up and down my length, then down to my balls. She cupped them, then went back to my shaft with her nails. It was driving me crazy and she could tell. She stopped touching me completely and leaned over me, dangling her tits in my face, waving them back and forth, just out of reach. I tried to take one in my mouth, but she pulled away at the last second. She repeated this twice more, then got off the bed again. She took a few steps away and stretched, giving me a nice view of her legs and ass. She twirled and ran her hands over her tits, down her sides, to her hips. She clutched at her pussy, slipping her index finger into her slit. "Ohhh," she sighed, looking at me. "This has got me alllll wet. I'm gonna need you to do something about that." "Come closer and I will," I told her lustily. She smiled and took a step towards me. Then she stopped, her smile turning into a smirk. "Beg me," she demanded, continuing to finger herself. She was two feet away from me, so I had a tantalizing view of her finger dipping inside, then pulling out and running over her clit before plunging back in. I was achingly hard—it had always been a huge turn-on to watch a woman pleasure herself. There was no question of resisting—I wanted her too bad to struggle. "Please Laney." "Please what?" she asked, then moaned lightly as the movements of her hand continued steadily. She was getting close to bringing herself off. I wanted to see it. "Please, cum for me. I want to see you make yourself cum." "Ohhhh, god," she gasped, her hand moving more insistently. Her left hand was fondling one breast, then the other, tweaking her rigid nipples. "Ohh fuck! I'm gonna cum, Jared," she whimpered. I bit my lip, straining against the handcuffs even though I knew it was useless. I wanted so badly to touch myself, but it wasn't possible. "Yeah, cum for me," I breathed. "Mmm, I'm cumming for you baby," she cried, her knees shaking. She gave one last buck of her hips, braced her left hand on the bed and quivered, her fingers slowing, then stopping. She was so close to me now, but still out of reach. It was maddening, not being able to touch her. I couldn't take my eyes off her pussy, so perfect and wet. Her wetness was coating her inner thighs, and was all over her puffy lips. Continuing the game, I pleaded with her. "Laney, I want to taste you. Please, let me taste you." She looked up, her stunning blue eyes twinkling in the dim light. "Well, since you asked so nicely," she purred, stepping up onto the bed and standing over me. She lowered herself, straddling my face. The scent of her washed over me, making me moan. Hanging onto the headboard, her thighs on either side of my face, she placed her sopping cunt right over my mouth. I didn't play around, just started licking right away, hungry for her. It had been far too long since I'd tasted a woman, and it was very welcome. I dipped my tongue as far into her as I could, sliding it up and over her clit, then flicking at her nub with the tip. She wasn't quiet as I started in with my mouth and tongue. She said, "Oh shit. Yes, eat me baby. Eat the fuck out of me!" I licked faster, thrumming her clit, loving the pressure of her on me, the jangle of the cuffs—everything about it, really. "Oh fuck yeah, don't you fucking stop," she groaned. She moved along with my tongue, her movements increasing until she was basically fucking herself with my face. By the time she came, my cheeks, chin and nose were coated with her juices, and still I lapped at her, bringing her from one explosive orgasm to another. Her sweet nectar ran down my tongue and her movements slowed save for a couple of final spasms throughout her whole body. She lifted one leg to dismount me, kneeling at my side. "Ohh, look what I did," she said, chuckling. She leaned over me and started licking her own cum off my face. This drove me more wild than anything she'd done so far. She licked my cheeks, my chin, even the bridge of my nose, her warm breath tickling my eyelids. Then she kissed me and I could taste her in her own mouth. I thought I was going to go crazy, I wanted to fuck her so bad. As though reading my mind, she whispered, her lips right in front of mine, "You want me to fuck you now, Jared?" "Yeah," I growled. "Please fuck me. I need it." "Mmm. That's what I like to hear," she murmured, pulling me up into a sitting position and straddling me. Repositioning my erection with her hand, she sat down on it, settling down until I was all the way inside her. She started rocking on me and in this position she was able to take me in much deeper than before. She found a rhythm she liked and rode me to a loud climax. I pulled against the cuffs again, yearning to put my hands all over her, but I was chained too tightly to reach. She noticed my struggles and started fucking me harder, biting her lip, one hand on each shoulder, sliding me smoothly in and out of her tight cunt. The headboard hit the wall with each thrust and she kept pushing me back against it, humping faster and faster as she came again. I couldn't hold up under her onslaught and my groans indicated to her I was close. "Tell me," she gasped, hardly able to make words due to the exertion and pleasure. "Tell me when you're gonna cum." I could feel myself tensing up right then, so I gasped out, "Now!" She pulled back and I flopped out of her. She clamped our crotches together and fell back into the same rhythm, stroking my cock between our bodies. The sensation did the trick and my rod spasmed between our bodies, cum oozing out everywhere. "Mmmmm," she sighed, wriggling against me, seeming to enjoy the feeling of the two of us being stuck together with sperm and sweat. She laughed and said, "I kinda have this thing about cum. I really like it." I laughed too. "I got that impression." She gave me a quick, sweet kiss and slipped off me. We were both a mess. Taking her hair the rest of the way down, she suggested, "We should probably take a shower. Join me?" I jingled the cuffs and said, "That would be tough." "Sheesh," she scoffed, kneeling beside her cabinet. "Gotta do everything around here." She dug around for a bit and then said, "Shit." "What?" I asked, eyes widening. "Hang on, I left the hacksaw in the kitchen," she said, standing and heading for the door. "Laney . . . " I started. She turned and I saw the smirk was back in place. She was dangling the keys in her hand. "Kidding! Geez, lighten up, man. I've only had to cut one guy's hand off so far." I gave a relieved laugh as she released me. Then I followed her into the bathroom where she started a hot shower. The water felt heavenly, as did her slick tight body against mine as we washed each other. After, we dried off and returned to her living room where the music was still playing. She got us each another beer and we sat back in our original spots on the couch. Only this time we were both naked. We drank and she had a cigarette. We chatted a bit, talking about our lives, interests, that sort of thing. It was disorienting to be having a leisurely naked conversation with the girl I'd been lusting over for more than a year, but life takes some nice twists sometimes. Even after spending the evening with her and fucking her twice, I still couldn't quite figure her out. Was she a badass or a sweetheart? Could someone be both? Since we were talking so openly, I decided to ask her. "I'm curious. Are you a sub or a dom? You were one than the other tonight and you seemed comfortable in both roles." "Still keeping you guessing?" she asked, her chuckle as close to a giggle as I'd heard it. She flicked her damp hair out of her eye. "I'm both. Depends on my mood and who I'm with. Usually I can't swap off like that. Most guys have to either be in full control or sit back and let me do whatever. Seems to me like you can handle both sides of me. I like that." Her eyes had lust in them and she finished with, "You have no idea how much I like that." I smiled at her, happy with the answer. It fit with her constantly shifting personality. She was different from anyone I'd been with before, that was for damn sure. I couldn't wait to learn more. When she was finished with her beer, she got up and started dancing around the room in time to the music. I didn't join her—never been much of a dancer, but I was enjoying the show. I tell you, at that moment, cold beer in hand, feeling contented from the sex, watching her lithe, sexy body move around the room—I felt like the luckiest guy on the planet. There was no place I'd rather have been . . . except maybe back in her bedroom. She danced her way closer to me and reached down, caressing my growing cock. Her hand finished what her dancing had started and I hardened the rest of the way. "I love this cock," she said, gripping it. "Big fucking cock." "It's nothing special," I said, shrugging. I was, maybe, a little over six inches, which I consider average. Of course, Laney was pretty small, so that could have been a factor. "Sure it is," she insisted, stroking it. "Big fucking cock and you know how to use it. Maybe you'd like to use it a little more?" "How'd you guess?" I asked, standing and taking her in my arms. My hands travelled over her and she closed her eyes, enjoying my touch for a while before grabbing my arm and practically dragging me into her bedroom. We fell onto the bed, kissing deeply, exploring each other, hands and lips everywhere. I settled atop her and ran my cock up and down her slit, teasing her again. She pressed up against me, then rolled, mounting me instead. She continued rubbing her lower lips against my member, finally reaching down and pulling me inside her. I thrust up to meet her and she rode me until she came, her damp hair swinging back and forth. After her climax, she rolled off me and spread her legs, holding herself open with her fingers. "Come on baby," she begged. "Put it back in me. Please! Fuck me!" I got on top and thrust into her, all the way. She was still so tight—the pressure was unbelievable. "Oh yeah, make me feel it," she pleaded, clawing at my back as I started thrusting harder into her, making sure to grind against her clit in between thrusts. Her nails dug in and she howled in pleasure, exploding again. She lifted her legs higher, trying to get me even deeper and I slipped out. Keeping her legs held up, she breathlessly said, "Put it in my ass. I need to feel you there." She nodded towards the still-open cabinet where she'd gotten the handcuffs. "Lube is in front." I snatched it up quickly and rubbed some around her puckered asshole, slathering more on my cock. I slowly rubbed the head against her hole, struggling to be patient. I was so turned on it was hard to hold back, but I didn't want to hurt her. "No, don't be gentle," she grumbled, her eyes burning with need. "Just put it in me for fuck's sake." I bit back the urge to ask her if she was sure—I sensed that would annoy her and wreck the mood. So instead I did what she asked and pushed harder. "Aww yeah!" she exclaimed, pushing back, wiggling her bottom, helping me to slide in. If I thought her pussy was tight, it was nothing compared to her ass. At first I was sure I wasn't going to get all the way in, then she grabbed my ass and pulled me forcibly towards her and I slid the rest of the way until I was buried in her soft, hot depths. "Ah!" she gasped. "There ya' go. Now fuck me, damn you. Tear me up! Give me all ya' got!" So I did, slowly for the first couple thrusts, but quickly building up momentum. Before long I was fucking her even harder than I had when I'd taken her from behind. She screamed in pleasure, her ass clutching my cock and still I fucked her, racing to the end, giving her wave after wave of pleasure. "Fuck, Jared," she said, again having trouble making words. Her voice was husky and moans kept interrupting what she was saying. "Oh god you're so deep. So good. Just like that, don't stop!" She came again and still I fucked her, holding her legs with my hands, plunging into her again and again. "Cum for me baby," she said desperately. "Pull out and sit back when you do." Sweet and Sour A few more thrusts and I knew I couldn't last, so I slid out of her ass and sat back on my heels. She scrambled up and before I realized what she was doing, she'd taken my throbbing cock in her mouth and finished me there, holding me steady with one hand and sucking hard, swallowing every drop of my seed as I ejaculated into her warm, moist mouth. Her amazing eyes looked up at me the entire time, watching my reactions. The fact that my cock had just been in her ass didn't seem to phase her at all . . . it was the dirtiest, kinkiest thing I'd ever had done to me, and I swear that alone made it the most intense orgasm of the night. She continued sucking me and caressing me with her tongue until she was sure every spasm of my climax was past, and she gave me a couple of final licks before sitting up. "Shit, Laney," I panted. It was all I could manage. "Mmm," she smiled, licking her lips. She laid down, stretching her legs out. I lay next to her and she rested her head in the crook of my arm, her hand on my chest. We recovered for a couple of minutes. "I like hanging out," I said, breaking the silence. Chuckling, she agreed. "Oh yeah. Hanging out's the best." I stroked her back with my hand and she twirled my chest hair around her finger idly. "Can't wait 'til next time," she said sweetly. "There's going to be a next time?" I asked. "Fuck yeah," she replied. After another moment of quiet, she asked, "Would you let me fuck you with my strap-on?" I looked at her, shocked. "What? NO!" She was watching me mischievously. "Hey, relax. I was kidding." She stuck out her tongue, then added, "Mostly. It WOULD be hot." "I can see I'm going to have to watch you," I said, mock glaring at her. "Yeah," she agreed. "Don't turn your back." We both chuckled at this. Then, her tone more serious, she suggested, "Hey, maybe next time you should bring along that sexy coworker of yours." I looked at her to see if she was kidding around again, but couldn't tell for sure. It turned out she wasn't. Author's Note: Some people are a puzzle. Makes them intriguing. This story came about partly due to a suggestion from a friend, and partly because I needed to put gas in my car on my lunch break. There may or may not be a second chapter, depending on interest.