The Dandy

He tied me up, hands on each side of the head board, neck bound to the center, my legs free but ordered to be left open to him at all times, my idea. He liked me with restraint, I liked him with access, limitless.

“I like you naked.” He grabbed my hips, lifting me slightly to remove the thong preventing me from full exposure. His touch moving with purpose, grazing my inner thighs, before snatching my strings.

“These expensive?” He ripped them off, his fingers raking my behind.

“Not anymore.” I cupped my legs around him, pushing him forward.

“I like you on me,” I said to his lips, his hands close to my breasts. “Touch me,” I whispered, my heels running up and down his back. “Right there,” I held his gaze, speaking with no particular part in mind but he didn’t know that, anywhere was on the market, my body inflammable from expectation. “Here.” He slapped my sex— perfect, I gasped, liking the start. He toyed with my clit, pinching and apologising for it later with a caress every now and then, coming down to me and honoring my lips with his own. Our tongues touched, probing the others in passion, sucking and smacking out lust as his hands travelled, feeding my skin with his touch, poking at my naval before squeezing my breasts, pulling away from my kiss. He was in control. Every tap, brush, probe, tickle felt fast and savored, trailing to the edge but not enough to tip over. Not yet. Not with my impulses on a leash. “Here.” His teeth sunk into my neck, avoidant of pain, marking its pleasure. “And here?” His tongue grated the centre of my collar bone, slow and with purpose. Where he found tension, he explored, hardening my nipples with his bite, where it existed he built, coming down from my chest and capitalising on my stomach, drinking tremors of pleasures of elixirs he concocted into my vagina. He drilled, stabbing at every nerve inside me  ending with delight.

“I want you,” I gasped, grinding my hips into his face, restraint from smothering him. He’s tongue plunged deeper, my wetness creeping out of me. Then he stopped, pulled a wrapper from his pocket sheathing himself.

“How bad do you want me Nikki,” he bit into my neck, the sting of his teeth pulling my skin. One hand latched onto my breast, the other squeezed my butt cheeks as he slid into me, breaking and entering a new scandal of solicitude our bodies began to stir. The rush inside of me reached new heights, I’d never felt this warm, this close to giving up, succumbing to all my urges at once, as he continued to plough into my euphoria. I wanted to lose, so badly, I wanted—

“I’m coming,” I arched my back slightly in service to my spot, he’d come against it, and it liked him very much. Gasps escaped my lips, my torso rippled from his final thrust as he’d finally hit home, he... broke me.

—

“I’d ask you where you’ve been but I like your perfume,” Kelly grinned ridiculously, “good sex and cuddles.” She caught me in the hallway of my apartment. It was a little early, even for her to be socialising. “Hotel room?” she said, nagging on the topic, “Or his place?” She followed me in, making herself comfortable on the couch. Her coat didn’t come off so this meeting was either brief or telling— as in I might be nervous to say what I’m about to— I figured.

“Anything to drink?” I offered, playing house, ignoring everything else. Time had past since we’d been each other’s company, hell, the last time she was in my apartment so were the brothers I looked back. 

“Pierce and Liam on the side,” she joked, catching the blushes on my faces. “No! I thought you’d be past it by now.”

“I am,” I turned around, facing my cupboards and pulling out a glass for her. Water it was, I stepped to the fridge, pulling out a bottle. “It’s room temperature.” She took it off of me. Judging me. “I haven’t seen him since... since he let me go.” 

“Blimey!” Kelly rolled her eyes. “What’s it with you two?” It was weird. Her frustration. Her cheering us on. It was something that would take some getting used to, I noted. We’d gone from being in competition with each other to this. “You’re a terrible winner Nikki. You got the guy you wanted and you’re not even with him.”

It was pointless to say something, anything actually that wouldn’t categorize me as defensive or fearful. Diction dialed into me by others it’d been impossible to be honest with anybody. It was my broken record— you wouldn’t believe me. Tell the truth and everybody stops listening, story of my life.

“Don’t you get tired, of all of it, strategizing, playing, winning, losing, the whole damn cycle?” she wondered, sounding like somebody who was either in love or who’d settled. “I tried it you know, if I mentioned it before I’ll say it again, and being you,” she paused, “is-is... quiet frankly it’s exhausting. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Pregnant, married or someone I know?” I blurted, tired of the attempts of psych analysis.

“I’m being serious Nikki, don’t you want it?”

“Pregnant, married or someone I know,” I stated. Again... it was impossible to be honest. Difference between she and I, she pretended to be something she wasn’t, and she got tired. I don’t, I’m not, I wasn’t, this was my sport, people had tennis, football, hell even golf, and what separated the legends and players was passion. And no, it didn’t mean being the same player for life, even the greats didn’t stay the same player forever,  it’s impossible, everybody changes, that was the constant,  and even that change is a play to remain in the game and still enjoy its perks— winning. But point was— remain in the game. I wasn’t giving it up. Not to the first five guys who made me blush. It’s who I was. So if I was to do the whole I like someone more thing, which I did, it would still be in the game, which I was doing. And the change Kelly was looking for, hadn’t come yet, it was in motion. But only he would notice, because only he really ever paid attention.