free himself, I’m sure he would have given me the hiding of my life. I’m almost frightened of him for a moment, because for a moment he seems frightened of me.
The dogs, who lie curled up in front of the fire, lift their heads, and Toby warns me off with a deep, chesty growl.
“It’s all right, Toby,” I say confidently. “It’s only a game.” Another growl, but more quietly; the big head sinks back onto his paws. “That’s a good boy, Toby. Only playing.”
“Listen, my girl, this is not how we play this game!”
It is an effort to ignore his resentment, but I manage to bat my lashes at him, all limpid innocence.
“But it’s you, professor, who taught me this game!”
He thinks, and then, on an unwilling crack of laughter, he relaxes. The tension eases up a little. Was he really worried that I might hurt him?
“You didn’t mind that.”
“No.” I put my flat hand against his chest and push him down onto the sofa.
“Hey!”
“And I promise you, you won’t mind this.” He lies sprawled helplessly across the three-seater, one leg up, one down, his hips raised a little in the air because he’s lying on his shackled hands.
“No, but, Anna—aah…”
“Hush, you’ll frighten the dogs.”
The strangled sound that came from his throat when I slowly sucked him into my mouth turns into a choked laugh.
“Toby…Andrew…help!” he wheezes, but quietly, so as not to alarm the animals snoring in front of the fire. With my fingers ringed around the base of his shaft, I hold him in my mouth, suck on the head in fast, short movements, and wiggle my tongue around its slithery smoothness. Giles’s irregular gasps for breath are punctuated by the most gratifying moans of pleasure, and when I gently knead his tensing balls in my hand, he arches his hips in a convulsion of response that stabs his cock deep into my throat. He cries out, I gag, and the dogs woof their irritation.
“Giles, I fully intend to make you come loud and long, but I won’t if it means I’ll have the dogs at my throat because they think I’m killing you.”
“You are killing me.”
“My dear boy, I haven’t even started. And I’d prefer it if you didn’t stick your cock between my tonsils.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He raises his head from the sofa and looks his contrition past his naked chest and stomach down at my face between his legs. “Really, I didn’t. I mean, I wouldn’t.”
The most incredible suspicion dawns on me. “Giles.” Very tenderly I tug at his cock, upward, downward, sideways. “How many women have done this to you?”
He lies very still. Stares up at the beamed ceiling of his cottage.
“Several,” he finally says. “But not the woman I was married to for eleven years.”
This is fascinating—and very welcome—information, but I will leave its discussion till later. Mentioning his ex-wife has made him go a little limp, but in no time at all I lick and suck, nibble, and squeeze him back into a rod-like state.
His eyes flit up to mine a fraction too quickly. “Look, I wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful, but…I’m really rather uncomfortable with this.”
“What, with this?” I kiss the hollow of his throat while I’m running my hands along his shoulders and his arms down to the cotton shackles at the small of his back. “Or this?” He winces when I tweak the skin of his stomach with my teeth. “You’re surely not uncomfortable with this?” I push his jeans and boxers over his knees and pull them off his long-muscled legs.
“Yes, actually, I feel extremely un—”
“Shhhh…” His embarrassment turns me on, and knowing that I will make him lose control in a very short while gives me a sense of power that is unfamiliar and extremely arousing. “I have not yet…seen you…”
“Seen me?” Again he glances up at me a little uncertainly.
“Yes, seen you. Touched you.” I feel myself slowing down, relaxing. The higher faculties of my brain shut down, and primeval, atavistic impulses take over. Bodies moving against each other, skin against skin. Giles watches me with slow bright eyes as I put another log on the fire and as I turn round to pull the t-shirt over my head. The blazing fire caresses my naked back and puckers the skin around my nipples. Slowly I unbutton my corduroys.
“The stockings are left to your imagination, I’m afraid.”
Going by the expression on his face and the response of his twitching cock, one would think this is