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

had planned this part of it—wanting to experiment a little deeper with the notion of submission—never having a clue such an act would excite her, too.

She watched as he dragged his tongue up the smooth patent leather heel, her pussy weeping in response, and added, “Keep going. Onto my ankle, up my leg.” A slow trail of fire climbed her inner calf, past her knee, up her thigh, past the top of her stocking, until he was tonguing her clit through lace. “Ooooh,” she moaned hotly, now fondling both her breasts, aware his gaze was glued to them.

“Now reach under my garter belt, and when you find a ribbon, pull it.” He did, his fingers barely whispering across her skin, and when he tugged on the ribbon, her thong loosened.

“Now the other side,” she whispered. “Then pull my panties away so you can look at my pussy.”

Her legs were spread wide, so once the scrap of lace was gone, her cunt was put on proud display, looking pink and slick and lush.

“Do you want to lick it?”

He dragged his heated gaze to her face, nodding.

“Too bad.” She laughed. “Tonight that’s a treat reserved for only good boys. Instead, you’ll stay where you are and watch me pleasure it.” Ty couldn’t believe her beautifully wet pussy was mere inches from his face and she wasn’t going to let him feast on it. Her clit protruded, swollen and needy-looking, as if begging for his tongue, and he yearned to taste her, longed to feel those soft pink inner 67

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lips surrounding his mouth as he licked up through them and across the glistening nub of flesh. Just how long, he wondered, was she expecting him to put up with being denied like this? And just how long would he? Last time, she’d helped him live out a fantasy. This time, he was trying to indulge her dominance, but he simply wanted what he wanted, and he didn’t like being told no.

He felt near to collapse when he watched her reach between the couch cushions and draw out a shiny gold vibrator. Even more so when she said, “Get it wet for me, lover,” and inserted it into his mouth before he could even think of protesting.

She pushed it in slow and deep in a way that made his stomach contract, since he was unwittingly finding out what it must be like to take a cock in your mouth. She began thrusting the cylinder slowly between his lips, and he wondered how he looked doing this and if she liked it.

Finally, she withdrew the vibrator from his mouth and inserted it smoothly into her pussy in one swift action. “Mmm,” she said, then turned the end with long purple fingernails, making the toy buzz to life as she began to slide it easily in and out.

Being that close made him fucking crazy. In one sense, it excited the hell out of him, but in another, he felt excluded, like he desperately needed to be involved.

And, damn it, he was going to be involved. Right now.

“Let me lick your clit, Mistress Mina,” he said, a little more forcefully than he meant to. And he didn’t wait for her to give him permission. Instead, he simply leaned in to lap at her hot, open pussy. Oh God, she tasted good. Her clit was like a thick, soft bead on his tongue. He drank in her pungent scent, letting it surround him, drown him.

Above, she bit her lip and whimpered with pleasure, thrilling him. Mmm, yes. His naughty Mistress Mina clearly didn’t mind—or at least couldn’t resist—letting him take a little control. And he was more than happy to suddenly find himself back in the driver’s seat, where he liked to be.

He continued licking, matching the rhythm of her thrusting gold toy, which still vibrated just below his mouth, occasionally bumping his chin. It at once excited and 68

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irritated him that she was pushing the hot little rod in and out of herself while he licked her—he wanted all her pleasure to come from him.

Reaching up, he covered her fingertips with his at the base of the vibrator. “Let me do it,” he murmured against her pink flesh.

She released the toy into his grasp without argument and he instantly pushed it in farther and deeper, harder than her own strokes, loving it when she cried out. Yes. He wanted her to feel it coming directly from him.

He fastened his mouth tight around the bud of her clit and sucked as he continued fucking her with the vibrator, delivering insistent thrusts. He didn’t want her to have any sort of soft, gentle orgasm—no way. He wanted it to hit her hard. He’d taken back control and he was going to use it for his own satisfaction.

She responded to his mouth and the vibrator, meeting the intense drives of the toy, and letting out a hot little cry at each. He drew hard on her clit and made her sob. And he was just beginning to wonder if maybe he’d gone too far, sucked too hard and actually hurt her, when he felt something at the back of his head, bracing him against her.

He looked up from his task, over his shoulder, to see she had locked him in place with their old friend, the black riding crop, placing it behind his head like a bar, holding tight to it with both fists.

“Lick me!” she demanded, pressing on the crop so that he had no other choice. He sank his face back into her wet pink folds and got lost in the work of licking and sucking at her hot nub, still pummeling her with the vibrator, only wishing it were wider and longer so he could give her more.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” she began to sob in a hot, rising rhythm, and he knew she was about to come. He licked and sucked her simultaneously, effectively French-kissing her clit, and she pulled the crop tighter, pressing him