Four Kicks - Stephanie Brother Page 0,32
kiss on my lips. “Don’t move. We’ll be back.”
I hear the men moving away. “Wait. What?”
They chuckle, the bedroom door clicks shut, and then the room is silent.
Well, this isn’t what I expected. Surely, they’ll be right back. Several minutes pass and nothing happens. I get restless, and I could move since my feet aren’t bound, but there’s not much I can do with my hands tied.
I don’t panic, but I do start to wonder if I was crazy to trust them. Where the heck did they go?
I’m naked in the middle of a big bed, hands tied, blindfolded. I’m at their mercy. Are they watching me?
Finally, the door clicks open again. Footsteps enter and pause near the bed. Not sure how many. More than one, but maybe not all four of them.
“It’s about time.”
No one says a word.
Tired of nothing happening, I bend my knees, slide my feet upward and make moves to turn on my side.
Strong hands instantly grip my ankles, pinning my legs flat. Then those hands pull my legs apart, spreading me open. Wetness instantly gathers in my pussy. I’m exposed to them. I don’t know exactly who’s here or who’s watching, but I’m completely exposed. They can do with me what they want.
But still nothing happens.
I lie and wait until I can’t take it anymore. The only thing I hear are occasional faint rustling sounds nearby.
“Hello?” I call out.
A moment later, someone moves onto the mattress with me and a fingertip runs up the length of my leg, ankle to mid-thigh. Not nearly far enough. And then the touch is gone.
The person remains next to me, breathing, but nothing else happens. I wait some more.
“Hello? What’s going on? Are you going to touch me again?”
A fingertip briefly runs up my other leg in a similarly unsatisfying pattern.
I bounce my hips on the bed in frustration. “Please keep touching me.”
A broader touch now – maybe the flat of a palm – slides across my abdomen before retreating. I wait several long moments with nothing.
“Please, please keep touching me.”
The hand returns, fingers dancing between my hips.
“Yes, please. More like that.”
The hand obliges, smoothing over my belly and upward to my breasts. I know who’s touching me now, and I know they want me to beg for more, so I do. It’s the only way I’m going to get what I want.
I keep begging and he keeps touching, tweaking my nipples, tickling delicate areas, teasing, teasing, teasing. When his hands explore my inner thighs, I lay it on thick. “Please touch my pussy. I need your hands on me there.” The hand goes there, fingers sliding through my slick folds. “I want your mouth on my pussy. Please!”
A hot tongue finally gives me what I want, dipping inside me, circling around my swollen clit.
“Yes, please. More like that. Please.” I moan and writhe as he pleasures my pussy, circling and circling, then sucking on me, driving me wild. I raise my hips to meet his face. I know who’s licking me; I wonder who else is watching. They’re about to see me come.
Begging for more all the while, I get hotter and hotter until I burst. My head falls back as my back arches and my hips press further upward. I beg for more until I can’t take it anymore and then I beg him to stop. He only stops when I’m silent.
His weight retreats from the bed and I’m left panting, still bound, much less restless than I was a few minutes ago.
After a brief pause while I’m catching my breath, someone else moves next to me, different weight, different movements. Something clinks in a glass.
Kisses are laid from my upper thigh, over my hip to my mid-section and down the other side. The glass clinks again, and those kisses are repeated but the mouth is now very cold.
I quiver beneath his touch and he sucks on my skin, heating the areas he’d just made cold. Then there’s a little nip and – yow! – ice. He’s skimming an ice cube over my hip upward, lightly across my belly. It lifts, leaving a wet trail behind, and then the ice is on one of my nipples, burning with a tantalizing pain.
A hot mouth replaces the freezing cold, before the routine is repeated on my other breast. I suspect the extremes of hot and cold feel even more intense with my eyes covered. I don’t know what’s coming or when it’s going to happen.
There’s a playfulness to the