Mardi Gras by Lacey Alexander (reading the story of the TXT) 📕

When she’d knotted the rope and walked back around in front of him, his expression hovered somewhere between aroused and amused. “You know I can’t touch you like this?”

Yes, she knew. A sacrifice, but one worth making. “That’s all right.” Then an idea hit her, a slight amendment to the plan. “Maybe I…should do it for you.” With that, she walked to the stereo system and pushed the play button to start a CD

she’d brought over the day before. The speakers boomed with a super-sexy song that always got her hot. Above a slow, throbbing rock beat, the singer urged a woman to be his lover, promising to show her his dark secret.

Mia had never stripped before, and even with the plethora of men’s clubs to be found just a couple of blocks away, had never seen a stripper perform live. But she was going to try to be one now, for Ty, and she was already so excited that her arousal squelched any fear.

Turning away from him, she began to sway her hips sensually back and forth with the driving rhythm. Then she arched, leaning her shoulders back to let her transparent blouse slide from her arms and drop silently to the floor.

Revolving, she rested against the wall, one knee bent, her arms stretched up over her head. Slowly, she drew her hands down, letting them skim sensuously over the round globes of her breasts, the flat plane of her bare stomach, then she splayed her fingers as both hands pushed down her thighs.

“Damn, that’s hot, baby,” he said, sounding totally spellbound.

Curling her fingers around the hem of her skirt, she met his gaze as she playfully lifted the fabric inch by teasing inch.

“Oh yeah. That’s nice. Keep going.”

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Lacey Alexander

When the skirt rose past her lace stockings, she eased her fingers onto the flesh of her thighs, beneath the tight black garters. Gliding her fingertips upward, she lifted the skirt to her hips. She heard Ty sigh at the sight of her mound, which had gone swollen and achy now. It was a pleasure for both of them when she slipped her middle finger between her legs for one slow upward stroke over her panties. She felt it deep inside, especially when Ty purred, “Mmm, yeah.”

Reaching behind her as she resumed her slow sway to the sexy song, she unzipped the black mini and used both hands to push it down, down, until it loosened at mid-thigh and dropped to the floor. She stepped carefully free of it, very aware of how she looked now, wearing only sexy black lingerie, ultra-high-heeled shoes, and her feathered, glittery mask.

“Stand up,” she said.

He rose to his feet, looking all-too-good in nothing but those pleasantly snug jeans, his hands tied behind his back. But he was about to look even better.

Stepping up to him, Mia ran her hands down his hard, muscular flesh, from shoulder to waist, where she folded the fingertips of both hands into his jeans. Sliding them to the center, she met an astonishingly hard obstacle that made her go weak.

“Mmm,” she said, unbuttoning the jeans, then slowly easing down the zipper. “You’re so big for me.”

Reaching into the open fly, she ran her palm up his erection.

He leaned his head back with a long, sexy sigh. “Aw, you’re killing me here, honey.”

She grinned up at him. “Good. Nothing like a little torture to set the mood.” They exchanged feral looks and he bent down to sweep a hungry kiss across her mouth as she squeezed and caressed his cock through his briefs. She was awed by how large he felt and it only added to her excitement.

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Mardi Gras

Moving around behind him, she hooked her thumbs into his jeans and underwear and dragged them down to his knees. She nearly shuddered at the sight of his tight, round ass, his wrists roped just above it.

As he kicked off his shoes and began maneuvering out of the denim, she ran her hands around him from behind, caressing his hard chest, his hips, the tops of his thighs—everything but the cock itself.

He leaned his head back in frustration. “Please, baby.”

“That’s right, lover. I want to hear you beg. Beg me.” He hesitated a moment, letting out a small growl, then said, “Please—touch me,” adding, “Come on, honey. Do it.”

She withdrew her hands.

“What?” he asked, clearly disturbed.

“That sounded more like a demand than begging.” She purposely sounded miffed.

By the time he spun to face her, she’d returned from another trip to her shopping bag, from which she’d retrieved a black leather riding crop. She stood sternly slapping it into the palm of her free hand as she gave him a look meant to quell any arguments.

He raised his eyebrows. “You intend to use that thing on me?”

“You’ve been a bad boy. Clearly, you need to be disciplined.” He stood looking uncertain, as if perhaps he was having second thoughts about wanting to be dominated. But given all the trouble she’d gone to, arranging all this, she’d be damned if he was going to back out now. Lifting the fringed end of riding crop to her shoulder as he watched, she slid the length of the tool along the swell of one breast, the leather braiding that circled it creating a pleasant sensation as it passed over her skin.

As she’d hoped, the fire returned to his eyes. “Does using it turn you on?” She nodded. “Very much.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, seeming ready to acquiesce.

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Lacey Alexander

“Do what I say and only that. Don’t question me or argue with me. Take what you’re given and like it.”

She sensed the exacting command sinking into his arousal, making him want to obey.

And for the first time in the midst of her attempted discipline, she noticed his cock.

It was even bigger than she’d imagined. Certainly the largest specimen she’d ever had.

The sight of it made her bite her lip with hunger as she reached out with