Teasing and the Wonderful Consequences of doing so. [M46/F21][teasing, exhib, 420]

Tom’s morning started out wonderfully. Slipping from bed before Dai, kissing her neck in the darkness, inhaling her scent, he’d made coffee, gotten in a quick run, and watched the sunrise from the garden. As soon as he checked his work schedule, though, he saw a long, blocked day of meetings and calls ahead of him. He sat down at his desk and started working, trying to at least get on top of it, but when he heard the dim sounds from the kitchen that meant Dai was out and about, he still had a day of meetings that couldn’t be canceled. Or shouldn’t at any rate. And his first one was starting already. He put his headset on, opened the camera, and managed to look not like he’d much rather be joining Dai in the kitchen.

“Carol, I think that it’s pretty obvious the problem is upstream…” he launched into his first meeting, reminding himself he worked with people he liked and respected. But then he heard the sounds from the kitchen, the ‘click’ of the lighter, followed by ‘tap tap’ as Dai sucked down her first vibrant lungful of smoke. Half his soul got up out of the chair and joined her, but he managed to keep his body sitting down with an effort of will. He counted under his breath, and a few seconds later, the door to his study pushed open and he blanked his camera as Dai strolled in, in tiny white bra and maroon shorts that fit her like a bass beat. And bearing a bong, too. He muted his audio before she said, “Want me to sit on your lap and give you a hit, Daddy?” in an innocent-as-hell voice, her big brown eyes wide and free of any guile or duplicity–right.

He unmuted himself for a second, not breaking eye contact with Dai, and said, “No, Carol, I’m still here, and I still think that they don’t even know what outcome variable they want to measure.” He firmly shook his head “No,” at Dai, and then, muting again, said, “I’ve got a wall of meetings today. Try to be good,” before returning to the call. He saw her little grin in response, and so the games began. “Sure thing, Daddy,” she responded, sprightly, and turned to walk out the door–but stopped, looking back at him to make sure he was checking out her ass instead of paying attention to the call. Then, leaving just the lemony funk of the weed, she was gone.

He sighed long and deep, and went back into the call. He anticipated the next move from Dai coming right away, and so when he finished that call and hung up and couldn’t even hear anything from her, he felt stranded between disappointment and relief. He went into the next meeting with a clearer head. Ten minutes into it, he looked up and saw, out in the garden, Dai bringing out a kettlebell. Exercise. Totally legitimate. Nothing he could object to.

And of course, she took off her top, because it was only in the way. The meeting receded from Tom’s attention at relativistic speed, and he lost the thread entirely as she stretched, incidentally running her hand over her perky, cuppable breasts. He literally had to close his eyes to return his concentration, and one of his colleagues asked, “Stub your toe, Tom?” He laughed it off, and joined in the conversation not because he really had that much to add but because he needed to keep his mind off of Dai’s lovely body laid out for him in the garden. She started pulling, turning, lifting the kettlebell, and the sinuous grace, visible strength along her long, svelte arms, and sheer beauty of her body in motion hit him as hard as it had the very first time he saw it. What added to his heat now was that she knew exactly what effect she was having on him. How much the sight of her lunging up, her ass a foundation of strength for her as she reached upwards, made him feel that need in him to grab her, have her strength under him, her tight body submitting and–

He found himself passionately arguing for a change in a policy that nobody wondered he cared about, just because he needed to vent some of this excess energy somewhere. Dai continued her exercise, and Tom managed to wrestle his libido down again. Though when Dai turned to look at him at the end of her first set of reps, cooly blowing a coil of her hair out of her face, he almost texted her to get into the room right now. His hand strayed to his phone. And then drew back.

The meeting ended before her exercise. He had a gap of time, and he could go out, interrupt her. He almost did, but the memory of that little smile, that perfectly, sweetly challenging-mocking bit of sass–that strengthened his resolve. He focused, wrote out some actually coherent and on-point emails. Dai moved on to deadlifting. She faced away from him, but at the beginning and end of every rep, she’d turn and look him down steadily, pouring that spicy honey of her gaze on him. Give a little nod. Smirk without moving her lips. Knowing the effect she was having on him, celebrating it.

She was upping the weights, too. If he was able to hold out on her, he saw, she’d take that energy back and put it in. She clapped another set of plates onto the bar, and attacked it. This time his eyes were on the plane of her back, the divine geometry of it, a trickle of sweat exploring the declivity of her spine, every worked muscle standing out as she smoothly, savagely pumped the heavy bar up and down on her shoulders. This was the highest she’d done in awhile; he’d have to cook her something celebratory later tonight. And god how did her ass look better the heavier the weight was.

Another meeting began as she continued. His hand sought out the old boxing grip-trainer he kept on his desk instead of a stress ball, and the next time she looked in at him after doing a ferocious set, after lifting an amount of weight few people would think a girl her size could handle, he dramatically held it up so she could see through the window, and squeezed it hard, making an exaggerated face of triumph. She cracked up, but his boss-for-the-time-being sharply asked, “Tom, what are you even doing?” to which Tom replied, “Just letting off a bit of stress, Ted.”

She finished her set and disappeared from the yard, door to the house banging in a deeply insolent way. He finished the meeting with his boss. He needed more coffee, but now she was out there, like a sexy mine, waiting to go off in his face. But when he went out to the kitchen, he heard the shower running. So before he got his coffee, he headed in there. A hip-hop song he didn’t recognize was playing, and she had the shower on hot enough to send up wraiths of steam shrouding her body, as if astral spirits were caressing her. She leaned her shoulder and thigh up against the fog-laden door to the shower as she noticed him enter.

“Poor Daddy, such a long day of meetings,” she said, just audible over the hip-hop. “More to go,” he said, “But no more video meetings, at least. My next ones are just phone calls.”

“That’s interesting, Daddy,” she said, with a lilt, and he grinned, and stepped back out.

He went to his office, finished up more of the paperwork before getting on the first phone call. Standing, as he usually did for calls. Another one-on-one, with a colleague who liked to think out loud quite a bit, but a pleasant enough guy. Tom heard the click-click, bubble, tap tap from the kitchen. And then another–she was getting nicely blazed. His weed-needing cells told him wasn’t it time to ditch this monkey suit and get into the green, but he slapped down that urge too. And he knew it wouldn’t be long before she was in here, making trouble.

It took her longer than he wondered it would, and it was because she was upping the ante. She’d changed into those blue striped shorts, the ones that she knew just drove him insane. Whether it’s because she’d been wearing them the first time they met, or just how perfectly their little flare showed her bubble-round ass, they were borderline unfair to use. And that’s all she had on, her hard nipples just waiting for touch. But he was up to it. What he wasn’t ready for was her full lips opening, pursing cutely, and pouring out a cloud of smoke onto him. She wasn’t so crass as to blow it right into his face, oh no. She just faced straight ahead and blew the smoke against his chest, pouring it out like a dragon, until he reached out his fingers and put them under her chin, tilting her face up so he breathed in the last puff she had to give. His hand rose to cup her breast and he saw the light in her eye, that she wondered she’d won, and instead of squeezing he pushed her back, mouthing ‘not yet’ at her, and was rewarded with indigent, hot-blooded outrage in her eyes that promised luscious vengeance down the road.

His colleague hadn’t noticed a thing, of course. Dai took another hit from the bong and Tom covered the phone as she did, and this time he kissed her as she exhaled, mouth on hers, not getting a full dose by any means but starting his descent. He was falling but still in control. He slipped her hand on the back of her neck, fingers stroking the soft hairs there as he lingered the kiss, broke it, and grinned as he returned to the call. She glared a little and left the room with a ‘you sorry to see me go’ stride.

Tom finished the call, hearing her blaze up yet a-goddamn-gain in the kitchen. He went in, seeking the coffee he’d forgotten to get earlier, and found her bent over the kitchen island, propped on her elbows as she packed more weed into the bong. Shaking her ass at him. He put his coffee in the microwave, and set the timer. Then he walked behind her, his big hands grabbing her ass, half-lifting her off the ground and farther onto the table. She yelped, “Daddy, you almost made me spill my weed,” and he laughed at her, his fingers pushing at the tiny strips of fabric covering her pussy, baring her to him. “Put your bong to one side for a sec,” he said, and the second she did he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up, spinning her around and sitting her down on the counter. He was so fucking hungry for her, he had a searing, absolute needeto taste her, feel her softness. After so much control all day he needed to let loose and the day wasn’t over but he had this time. And he was gonna take it.

He pushed the fabric to the side again, holding it there, his tongue sliding up and down her pussylips, pushing in. She, good girl, put hands behind herself and held on. “Oh Daddy, what got into you?” she laughed as he tonguefucked her. She was nectar, she was intoxicating, she was absolute sober certainty he needed to fuck her and claim her. The softness of her pussy against his tongue was such an invitation to push in, and the ragged groan that spilled out of her a rich treasure.

And then the microwave dinged. And he pulled back, face wet, and stood back up. She made a disappointed noise, but then said “Well help me back down, then, if you’re not going to be a gentleman and finish what you started,” in her best little goading voice. He put his hands on that sweet waist and gently, firmly helped to pull her back until her feet were firmly on the floor, then turned to get his coffee out. And the little troublemaker just grabbed the bong again, and took a hit off the freshly packed pipe. “Enjoy your coffee,” she said, blowing smoke at him as he left the room.

He started the next meeting with a rock-hard cock. Dai took her sweet time coming back for her next salvo, and when she did, she was wearing the harness she wore the first time that Tom showed her off. It looked amazing on her, loops and strips of leather perfectly arranged to call everyone’s eyes to the lush landscape of her body, the contours of light and shadow. And the sheer D/s bondage theme of it shouted out that here was a submissive. She offered him the bong, and he took it, even though it wasn’t a call where he could just sit back. But he needed to be more here with her, now, and he looked into her eyes as he sucked down the smoke, half lustful, half-hangry, all there for her. She smiled again wickedly, raising one shoulder, the other, turning around to grab her ass, looking back at him. He was still on the phone, being asked questions, and his hand was on the buckle of his belt. But he took it away, Span away from her. Heard her laugh and almost turned back but let her leave the room. Finished the call.

He took a moment. He breathed in a long, clean drag of air, let it out. Walked down the hall to the bedroom where she’d gone, hip-hop trailing out from under the door. He flung it open. She wasn’t on the bed yet, she was just finishing pulling on stockings to go with the harness when he arrived. She smiled at him even as he grabbed her, picked her up and literally threw her on the bed. “Daddy, you’re all riled up,” she laughed, as he tore buttons from his shirt as he untucked it and pulled it off. He grabbed her by the hair, and even in this fucking apocalypse of desire he was feeling the sensation of that was so rich, such sheer tactile pleasure. He arranged her, on all fours, as he stood at the edge of the bed. And his heart sang at the sight. His perfect little submissive, harnessed, presenting her perfect ass to him, having spent all day whipping him into this rock-hard, needing her absolutely, about to claim her state. Her skin was radiant in the semi-dark of the room, her vulnerability, her femininity making his rough desire increase, every softness in her inviting the hardness in him.

She jumped when he slapped his thick cock down on her ass. God he loved that sight, and after a day of delays why not more delay, now. Why not slap his cock down on that ass again, spank her with it. One hand grabbing her asscheek, pulling her open so he can spank his cock on her pussy. And she was wet, so wet, she had been arousing herself all day by teasing him. That’s what made it impossible for him to pull the head of his cock away from her opening.

She made a tiny, sweet, mewling noise that was just perfect and the lust in him burns bright blue. They both needed this so much. He pushed in, just a little pump. Instead of a steady increase, working just the head of his cock in and out, little motions. It makes a shockingly loud sound, his Daddy cock opening up her little pussy, and soon they’re both moaning to each other. Words have gone beyond thim in this moment, during entry, he pushes forward another inch and she heaves her head up and moans, he pulls back to the begin, groans with need and hears her sigh with the feeling of him withdrawing and hiss in anticipation of him thrusting back in.

Deeper and deeper, louder and louder. It’s not till he was balls deep in her that his words returned, her name, first, “Dai,” shouted, “Dai” growled, biting her shoulder as he started to rut her, drawing all the way out and pushing back in, long, searching strokes, each moment passing in a rush and eternity. “It’s yours, Daddy,” she groans and he leans back so he can see this, her perfect ass framed by his hands, holding her in place while he claims her young pussy with his fat cock.

“Your gorgeous little pussy feels so tight and silky on my cock,” he told her, such a different voice than he used all day, this voice for her, smokey and dark and wicked and dangerous. “Take every inch.”

She proudly arched her back and said, “Look at it, Daddy, I am. Look at it,” and he does, his eyes fill with that sight, her pussylips around him, and when he pulls his head up to look at her she’s facing back at him. “I love seeing you like this,” he said, fully honestly, and pulled her face to him for a crushing kiss as he put more of his weight on her.

“Ugh,” she said, grunted and that just spurred him even more. He was pushing her down, pinning her as he fucked her harder. He’d watched her work all day, he knew how strong she was, how much she could take. He grabbed her shoulders and pounded his cock into her, hips slamming into her ass. He bent over her and held himself deep in her while he wrapped his hand around her throat and whispered in her ear that she was a sweet bitch, that she’d been such a good bad girl all day, that he loved how much she knew how to drive him crazy.

He’d leaned back, kept the grips on her hip, and started pulling her onto him, moving her little body with practiced, easy strokes of his arms. Like it was an exercise. Pumping her on him for ten strokes, letting her catch her breath. Exerting control again. But when she said, “Please, Daddy” was when he fully broke. Savagely fucking her, his arm around her, hugging her little body to him as he plunged in her. Half-crawling on the bed with her, her body pinned under him. Her mouth moved but not words, just sounds, and it was when her starry eyes opened with joy and he caught that flame again that he came. Shouting her name as his orgasm detonated inside him, a series of explosions that would make you believe in chakras, nimbuses of light traveling down his spine as he held himself inside her, as he felt her push that sweet ass back against him. It was like being tossed in a wave, crashing feeling through him, feeling like he was hurtling headlong. When he regained what might pass for a conscious mind he collapsed on her, breathing shallow and ragged ,and she was reaching back to caress her sweaty hair and say “You needed that, Daddy.”

NSFW: yes

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