creative writing, erotic writing, erotica, masculinity, men, sex, sexuality, Sir, women, writing

Sir: Episode 3

The collar of the shirt had been starched to the consistency of cardboard and it kept chaffing against the nape of my neck. I kept my attention across the table as Paula read from the menu in silvery bursts of French. I know a little, but my conversations in other languages resembled a drunk Tarzan so I kept a respectful silence before she gestured to me and I gave my order to our waiter.

He didn’t linger, which was a good thing.

I leaned forward and looked directly into her eyes.

‘Before he comes back, I want you to go to the restroom, take off your panties and bring them to me.’

Her eyes glazed over as she bit her lip. She held the stem of the wineglass between her fingers to steady them. She gave a short nod. Her hair was up tonight, caramel coloured with hints of blonde and pinned in place with chopsticks. It added length to her neck and when she nodded, it was an act of surrender, not submission. She excused herself, got up and took her handbag with her. I slid my chair back and stood up as she left. I watched the taut sway of her hips as she inside.

When she came back, and I felt her fingers at my pocket. Her cheeks were red and I watched the pulse in her throat as she sat down. I took my seat and she glanced around her, then I heard my phone hum. I examined her as she gestured for me to answer.

It had been sent from her phone.

I had to undo the garter as I wore panties under the belt.

I kept my face still as I thumbed my reply.

Could have asked and I’d have helped. With my teeth.

I replaced the phone in my jacket pocket and the waiter returned with our food. She looked to her right, raised her hand in a regal wave as she gave a smile that didn’t rise to her eyes. Then my message came through and she got out her phone.

‘Who’s that?’

She grimaced.

‘Bill Devon. Swinging cock of the agency. Works with reality television stars who believe that morbid curiosity has the half life of radium in terms of a career.’

She read my message. Her eyes lit up.

‘I’ll remember that for next time.’

I grinned as I set the napkin on my lap.

‘A next time. I like that.’

She put her phone away.

‘No more phone calls now. And what’s going on with your neck, Sir?’

‘Too much starch in the collar.’

‘I’ll get my assistant to -‘

I raised my hand and shook my head.

‘No. I’m not planning on wearing it for much longer.’

She picked up her glass and looked at me over the rim.

‘Are you not? ‘

I smiled and raised my glass.

‘I know what you want. You’ve told me in exquisite detail and I am going to give it to you.’

We lapsed into a comfortable silence as we ate. The food demanded reverence and we debated indulging in dessert but she shook her head as she reached across and took my hand.

‘I have ice cream,’ she said.

I asked for the bill.

She lived on the coast, a stretch of untouched beach that she got up at dawn and practiced hatha yoga on whilst watching the surfers battle with the waves. There was a soft smile on her face as she spoke about it.

‘If you need something, then you’ll pay anything for it.’

She ran her finger along the line of my jaw.

‘If you’re interested then you’ll look for it as cheaply as possible.’

I nodded and took her hand, kissed the tips of her fingers in turn and shut my eyes.

‘I am reassuringly expensive.’

She gave a small laugh and stroked my upper lip.

‘Yes you are, Sir.’

The car dropped us off and was on it’s way back towards the city as she unlocked the door. She turned around and slipped off her jacket before pulling a chopstick from her hair. I watched as it tumbled down her back.

She took my hands in hers, studying the difference in their size and texture.

‘They could rip me apart, couldn’t they?’

I squeezed her fingers between mine and she gasped.

‘They could, Paula, but I think that would be a failure of the imagination.’

She kissed me hard, shutting her eyes as she kept hold of my fingers between hers. Her teeth clashed against mine but after a minute, she slowed down, softened and let go of my hands to began to unbutton my shirt.

We kiss-walked into the bedroom.

Her shirt was folded over a chair and my hands smoothed up her back to unclasp her bra. I pulled it off her shoulders and let it fall away. I circled her breasts with my hands and squeezed her nipples between my thumb and forefinger as I took her bottom lip between my teeth and pulled.

She cried out as she pushed me away but I pinched her nipples again and she reached up to grasp the back of my head. Her fingers played in my hair as we kissed and bit until my lips were tender and swollen. Then I put my palm to her chest and gently pushed her backwards.

I took the panties from my pocket and held the wadded ball to her. She grinned as she took them from my palm.

‘I want to see your cock but I’m not sure I deserve it.’

I took a theatrical step backwards, then took off my jacket and shirt slowly. The lighting in the bedroom was indirect, casting shadows where my muscles strained against my skin. I let my clothes fall away as I kept staring into her eyes.

Her pupils were wide, thirsty as I unbuckled my belt and then unlaced my shoes, kicking them both away. I had on black silk briefs and she reached out to stroke my cock through the material.

‘Please show me, Sir.’

I shook my head and she pouted as I touched her face, petting her cheek as I ran a thumb along the ridge of her right eyebrow.

‘On your knees.’

She hitched up her skirt as she kneeled in front of me. I peeled down my briefs and held my cock by the base as I ran the head of it against her cheek. Her eyes bulged as she took it and drew back to look at it.

She gave a heavy sigh as she kissed the tip. I grunted and raked her hair around her face.

‘I want to feel it, Sir. Will you make me?’

I grabbed her hair and she whimpered. I looked down at her as I curled my upper lip.

‘Get on the bed.’

She undressed, except for her stockings and the garter belt.

She laid down with her head hanging off the edge. Her mouth hung open and she licked her lips. I leaned over and began to run the head of my cock down her face. When my swollen balls brushed against her lips, I felt her take a deep inhale before she lapped at them with the flat of her tongue. I reached and tugged at her hair as I slapped my cock against her cheeks. She said something, muffled by my flesh and I drew back as I looked down at her.

She opened her mouth wide and I squatted as I fed my swollen cock into her mouth. Her lips closed around it as she breathed in through her nose, as best she could. I gasped at the hot, wet vice of her mouth. Her hands came up to rest on my hips as she drew me deeper. I stroked down her ribs and over her stomach, as I slowly eased my cock into her throat.

She squeezed the cheeks of my ass as I leaned and cupped her pussy in my hand. I massaged her as she pushed her hips up and spread her thighs. She was slick and my fingers sunk into the damp heat of her as she pulled me deeper into her mouth. She tapped my left asscheek and I began to thrust with more force. She made glottal, thick noises as I crossed my index and ring fingers together and dipped them inside her.

I shut my eyes as she began to gag, coating my cock with thick warm saliva as she dug her fingernails into the meat of my ass. I reached with my left and spread her labia apart as I fucked her with my fingers, turning them as I drove them inside her, filling her with a rough abandon as she groaned and drew her nails down. The pain fuelled my own pleasure and I snapped my hips forward, hunched over her as I covetously fucked her mouth.

I drew out, teeth gritted as I let my rigid cock rest against her chin and I pneumatically pumped my orgasm across her chest as she sucked on the skin of my swollen testicles. Her stockinged thighs clamped on my hand as I closed my eyes to the spasms until they faded into a sunset. I staggered back. I looked down at her.

She laid there, artist and canvas as she smeared me into her skin. She scooped up a thick dollop and applied it between her thighs. Her hand danced there, an artfully angled wrist and a rolling motion of her shoulders but little more than that as her thighs swung open and closed.

Her eyes were closed and she grimaced as I kneeled and kissed her on the forehead.

‘I’m watching, Paula. Show me everything.’

Her fingers were a blur as she brought her knees up. She stiffened, as she came, wrenched out of her as her eyelids flew open, seeing everything and nothing.

I climbed onto the bed and pulled her into my arms, she wrapped herself around me and rubbed her sticky fingers against my chest, murmuring to herself as she breathed through the moment.

I stroked her hair, kissing her over and over until she was limp and quiet. We looked at one another, when she swallowed, she gave a grimace and her voice had an injured rasp to it but she dozed off and I held her, watching her face as she slept.

Some time later, I awoke to the warm weight of her as she straddled me and I felt her mouth at my neck as she took my cock and guided it between her thighs. I received her as she rocked against me slowly.

I fought the urge to put my arms behind my head but I let the smile of satisfaction bloom as I shut my eyes and, in my own way, surrendered to it all.


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