Giving in to Temptation Ch. 08

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Blowjobs. Handjobs. Sure. Every been the recipient of an “airjob?” Me either. I file it under ‘cruel and unusual punishment.’

Poppy was kneeling, hands behind her back, shoulders back, head down. Crop in her mouth. She was usually late, until the punishment became too much to bear. Thence forward, on time, but barely. Today she was (at least) an hour early, and dressed to kill.

I took some time to admire her. The bikini fit her perfectly. Her breasts were almost comically large for her size 4 frame… 34-E, so I’d wondered about the fit. The bikini was orange, and worked with her skin color. It was of a design that allowed the triangle cups to adjust along the length of the string that held them in place, and were large enough (barely) to cover her nipples. Watching her breathe was hypnotic: her breasts strained against the material with each inhale; her nipples were hard. It appeared that the material was ‘stretchy’ enough that with each inhale, it tugged against her nipples and teased them. The bottom of the triangles completely held the bottom of her breasts, but pulled them together, accentuating the soft, smooth cleavage thus formed. But for all their glory, ones eyes were drawn away from the breast to her bottom: In back, a thong; the thin slice of material from underneath – barely sufficient to cover her asshole, was connected to a metallic ring that centered on her tailbone. From there, two strings connected to the ring and wrapped over and around her hips to connect to another, larger ring in front, from which a strip of connected fabric stretched to cover her mons. Street legal, but barely. She was poised high on her knees, separated to accentuate the gap formed by her pussy and upper thighs. Her butt was full, but not fat; indeed, perfectly sculpted. The sides of the “jeweled” ruby-colored butt-plug clearly evident. Uncharacteristically, her blonde hair was down, swept to the side, just past her shoulder blades.

As I walked in, she resisted the urge to turn her head. I put my coffee down, turned to her, and removed the crop. “Good morning Poppy. Quite the eager beaver this morning! But, are you not a bit over-dressed?” I don’t know how long she’d been kneeling there, but she seemed happy to have the crop removed.

“Master suggested my time might more easily pass if I genuinely submit. I accept Master’s suggestion.”

“Yet you kneel before me clothed. And ornamented.”

“Master provided me with a gift yesterday. I assumed – perhaps incorrectly – that it was Master’s intent for me to wear his gift. Should I remove them?”

“I appreciate initiative Poppy.”

“Thank you Master.”

“But, still you might agree that this is a very sudden change in behavior. I am, as you might imagine, curious. If I didn’t know better, I might guess you broke some rules, and are trying to get on my good side.” Her response was a beat or two too slow.

“M-master, I genuinely seek to please.”

“Tell me the rules you have broken. I mean, other than the ones of which I’m already aware. You didn’t blow Ian, did you?”

“No Master!”

“Good. Aside not reimbursing me for your wardrobe, what else? Did you get off last night?” I did not think it possible for someone in Poppy’s position to look guilty, yet here we were.

Poppy, after extended pause: “No. No master.”

“But?” She blushes.

“On your desk, sir.” I have no idea how I missed it earlier. Next to the phone, another toy. Kinda a pocket rocket, with remote. Insertable, with a small chord for retrieval, I assume. Bad girl.

“So – you’ve been cheating on me Poppy?” I had to laugh a little…

“No sir. Not exactly. I use it, but never cum.”

“You edge yourself?” WOW.

“Yes sir. But its driving me crazy. I need to stop, so here it is. And here am I.” Candor, humility. Totally out of character for our Poppy. I’m suspicious.

“Poppy – speak freely. What is it you want?”

“I wonder if Master might be open to a proposition?”

“Go on.”

“Master seems to doubt my fellatio skills. If I were to make him cum in the next hour, would he remove 100 hours of my service to him?”

“Poppy, first off, I get to have sex with you whenever I want. Second, I haven’t had sex in so long, I get hard watching Fox news. No bet.” She laughs. I consider a counter offer… “However, if you can make me cum without touching my cock and balls – either indirectly or directly, or causing me to do so – within the next hour, I’ll knock 10 hours off.”

“Master, if I might… although a 10:1 bet is pretty good odds, Master seems very sincere of his disregard for my sexual prowess; furthermore, if the odds were increased, would I not be motivated to give my very best effort, to show Master that, in this one small instance, he might have suffered from minor misjudgment?”

“50:1, and you have until my phone rings. You may direct me, within reason, and you have freedom to move about the room. Either way, when the phone rings, ataşehir escort you’re still my slave and we still have rules. That being said, what if I win?” Funny, she evidently had not considered the possibility. She thought a bit and said “Well Master, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Poppy – really, an open check? I have quite an imagination you know.”

“I know, master. And because of that, there’s a part of me that hopes you win.”

The game is afoot. Poppy rises, and approaches me. She places her hand on the arm of my swivel chair, and gently spins it so that she’s behind me. She then wraps her arms around my neck, and snuggles her nose close to my ear. She bites, then licks it.

“So… I have an hour to make you as sexually miserable as you’ve made me over the last couple of weeks. The difference, of course, being that you were trying to keep me from cumming, and now I am now to get you to cum, without touching your naughty bits… lovely!” She nibbles on my ear while unbuttoning my shirt. Her fingers seek out and find my nipples, and start to tease them. “I never asked, Master… are your nipples sensitive?” Poppy knows nipples. She spent the next few minutes exploring them.

“Oh my!” she exclaimed (with utter lack of compassion…) “They are sensitive now, aren’t they? Look at how your cock responds to my touch!” Her tone is not conversational, however. Her lips are still very close to my ear. Her whisper is gentle, urgent. She nibbles on my neck. I groan.

“Master, to be fair, I think you should remove your clothes. I’d hate to be accused of ‘indirectly touching your cock’ simply because I might tug on your shirt, or sit on your lap.” I cannot argue the point. “Might I assist? I’d love to, but you’ll have to allow me any incidental ‘touching.’ Otherwise, I suppose you could disrobe yourself…” She licks my inner ear, and pinches a nipple; my cock throbs in response. Seriously, what would you do, given the choice?

“Poppy, you may remove my clothes. Incidental touching allowed.” It was a mistake, I know. But the combination of her scent, her kisses, and that bikini were too much to resist.

“Yaay! Do you realize, Master, that I’ve never seen your cock? I mean, I’ve seen umm, the impression it makes in your slacks.. but… now… its rather a turnon.” I don’t know if she’s fucking with me or not.

“Master – would you mind please standing up?” I do. She’s barefoot, takes advantage of her 5’6″ frame. Stands on her tip toes, presses her tits into my back as she reaches around and unbuttons my shirt. Succeeding, she strips it off, kissing my back from shoulders to waistline as she peels it off. She moves around to face me. “Oh … my… your chest. I love it… and look at your nipples… they’re as hard as mine!” With that, she licks and kisses each one, and plays with my chest hair. Not a lot of it; but it’s there, its silver tint belies my age. Poppy turns it into an erogenous zone, rubbing it first with her hands, then her cheek. “Silver hair on a tanned, broad chest… so sexy…” she purrs.

The best way to describe my cock at this point is “extreme discomfort.” She has it rock hard, and hasn’t got within a foot of it with any part of her body. I’m fucked. And she hasn’t moved. Her lips are on my nipples, her breasts pressed into me, back swayed so that her hips don’t engage my hardon. But, she’s not done: “Master, I can’t wait for you to play with my titties like I’m playing with yours now. Do you not adore the feeling?” She begins to massage my breasts in a manner, I assume, similar to how she’d like hers tended to. In an effort to survive, I try to ignore my hardon and pay attention to her ministrations… might come in handy. She stops, looks up at me, and loops her arms around my neck. Again on her tip toes, she reaches for a kiss.

Poppy can kiss, and does not find it boring. She nibbles on my lips with her teeth, her lips; traces them with her tongue. She’s in no hurry to open her mouth to mine. When she does, she does so with abandon. I put my hands on her waist, just above her hips. She moans and says “Master… you’re not trying to pull my kitty into your fat hardon, are you?” She returns then to her task… evidently, trying to make me cum simply by kissing me. And damned near succeeds. I think I was saved only by the fact that her calves finally tired. She slides down my body, keeping as much of her connected to as much of me as possible as she drops to her knees, her face directly in front of my cock. Pre-cum has oozed and stained the front of my shorts. She looks at me, licks her lips. Fuck.

“Ooooh Master… Pre-cum. I love its taste… May I?” I should have said ‘no.’

“Yes.”

Poppy starts licking and sucking on the spot of the pre-cum on my shorts, just below the head of my cock. The feeling is intense… I try to pull away. “Uh-un,” she says, shaking her head. “You gave me permission – you cannot pull away.” With that, she wraps her arms around kadıköy escort my thighs, locking them together. Breasts pressed into my thighs, she dives back in, bathing the outline of my cock head with her tongue.

I’ve been standing now 10 minutes, bare chested, and Poppy still hasn’t freed my cock from its constraints. She does, however, take time to further fuel my imagination. “Imagine, master, if you were naked now. I’d be able to slurp up all that delicious pre-cum… my tongue flicking your penis head before I take it fully into my mouth. God… I get all wet just thinking about that.” She then goes into considerable detail regarding how she’ lick me from stem to stern and back, and how she loves the taste of cum.

“You see, Master, I can tell by the pre-cum. I love your scent, and will love the taste of your cum in my mouth.” She stops, and looks at me. “Its not the same for everyone, you know… I mean – not that I’m a pro, but guys taste different. For some, their scent is gross. Others, quite nice. You, mmmmmmm.” I repeat myself but again, cannot tell if she’s fucking with me or not.

“Just ask, Master… that’s all you have to do… Just ask and I’ll kiss and suck your cock just like I did your mouth and your nipples… You’ll explode in my mouth and I’ll swallow all of it, then lick you clean.” She then goes on about her business of licking my pre-cum through my trousers…

“Poppy – I think you’ve gotten all the pre-cum.” My cockhead, pressing against my belt, was in desperate need of relief. Poppy gives a mock-sigh of disappointment and with a dismissive look, unfastens my belt. Ahhhh.

“Oh my,” she said… “Seems you were quite cramped there. So sorry…” With that, she puts a hand on my cock while unbuttoning my shorts. “Sorry master… but necessary… I cannot imagine the trouble I’d be in if I let the zipper catch your cock.” Fair enough, but she’s using her fingernails.

Finally, they’re off, and my cock springs free. She stares at it, purrs, looks up at me, smiles; she stands then, leans over, and takes a good two inches of my cock into her mouth without touching it. Her hands are on my hips to study her as she inhales and exhales deeply, the warm moist air swirling around my cock head with each breath. After a minute or two, she takes a break, stands up, stretches her back, then presses her breasts into me, her eyes burning into mine. “Master – all you have to do is take my hair and pull me into you… I’d be defenseless… your cock might go all the way into my throat! I might gag…” With that, she smiles, bites a nipple, and slides down to take me in her mouth for another round. The feeling is exquisite, and she’ll win if she keeps it up. Rather than pull away, I start tickling the back of her neck with tiny brushes of my finger tips. She grunts; goosebumps appear down her back. Finally, she backs off. A momentary respite from the tease from hell.

Poppy then took my hand, led me to the couch, sat me down, and knelt between my legs, pulling my knees toward her in the process so that my cock was just under her chin. She nibbled on the insides of my thighs, then proceed to use anything at her disposal to tease the sensitive areas… lips, tongue, her eyelashes, fingernails. Satisfied with her work (precum again dribbling from my cock head), she got up and invited me to lay back on the couch. She slid on next to me and threw a leg over mine, her warm, moist pussy on my thigh, breasts pressed into my side. From there, she started exploring with her fingers… tickles, scratches, long lazy strokes. Every now and then she found a spot that made me shudder. When discovered, she’d go to the spot with her lips and tongue, simultaneously using her fingers to tease my skin.

“My my master… you have sooo many sensitive spots, don’t you? Its fun finding them, don’t you think?” She got up, straddled my thighs, and removed the bikini top. “Here – give me your hands…” She took them and started massaging her tits with my hands, leaning forward so I could feel the full weight of them. “I just love having my boobs massaged… they get so cooped up during the day in the bras I have to wear… I just love having them exposed and tended to… My god… feels so good… can you feel my nipples getting hard?” I could. Small pink nipples, stiff as raisins, surrounded by quarter-sized areola and the bare hint of a tan line. She noticed me looking at the tan line and commented: “I love sun tanning… just haven’t had the time.” Then she had an idea – “Maybe you’d like to trace my tan lines with your tongue?” With that, she leaned forward. Her breasts fell to either side of my cock, without touching it. From there, she pressed forward, dragging her tits across the length of my body until one of them found my mouth, hips now hovering just over my straining cock.

Her skin was soft, perfect, gently scented. She offered me different parts of her tits, more or less giving my tongue a guided tour of her fading bostancı escort tan. Every now and then I licked a spot of particular sensitivity, and she’d respond with a guttural moan. I reached underneath and started stroking her pussy through the thin material of the bikini, now very damp. It caught her off guard – she rose up and gasped.

“Oh fuck, master… not fair… I almost just came.” I sawed my middle finger along her slit, teasing her outer lips at the same time.

“AAAAhhhhhh noooo I’m too close…” She backed off me and regrouped. She looked at me, her breathing heavy, her face flushed; then, after a moment, retook the initiative. She climbed up off the sofa, and kneeled next to my head, and started kissing me, fingers dragging along my legs from the knee to my hips, ever so close to my cock, then whispered “You have me so fucking hot right now I might cum at any moment. The way you kissed my boobs was driving me mad with lust. Now I see your nice hard, fat cock next to your belly, dripping pre cum – ” she paused a moment to lower her head to lick it up, careful not to touch my cock – “and it is so tempting to forget the whole bet…if you’d just let me take you and let me cum with you inside me…” With that, she worked her way back up, kissing and nibbling my rib cage, then continuing her ministrations to my ear and neck. “Master… I wonder what it will feel like – your hard cock inside me with the anal plug in… I bet it’d be so tight…mmmmmm.”

Then she stopped, looked at me thoughtfully. “Master, turn over please. I think I’d like to play with your back for a while.” I complied.

Pure heaven. Poppy’s tits teasing my back while she licked and nibbled my ears and neck, working her way down to my ass. You can imagine my surprise when she slid a finger along my anus.

“WHOA! what was that?!!” I turned my head to meet Poppy’s eyes; she had the smug look of a chess player about to close out the match.

“That was my finger on your butt hole,” she said, smiling. Now, don’t you move – I’ll be right back. With that, she went over to the desk, picked up the vibrator she’d brought in earlier, grabbed the moisturizer that was on my desk, and smiled at me. The goddamn thing was a setup all along.

“Poppy – wait. No toys allowed. AND certainly no butt play!”

Poppy, giggling, picks up a random piece of paper off my desk and pretends to read from it: “Master, please refer to the third paragraph of the second page of our little wager:” Then, in a pretty funny attempt to imitate my voice: “‘In an effort to make Master cum, slave shall not touch – either directly or indirectly, Master’s cock or balls.’ Master, there is nothing here regarding toys, or butt holes. You may however concede, of course.” Like hell I would. Poppy, grinning, heads back over to the couch. Kneeling, she whispers “be a dear and pull your knees under your chest? I’d hate to be accused of causing you to rub that beautiful cock of yours into the couch in order to cum.” With that, she licked the spot on my ear that was most sensitive, sending shivers down my back and blood to my already engorged cock.

“Oh, Master!” She had climbed on the couch behind me. “Looking at you like this – your cock so hard and dangling down… can we stop now? Stop and just let me suck your cock dry?” She gets very close. I can feel her breath on my balls. “Please master? Just say the word…” I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been so aroused. Or so vulnerable.

“Sorry Poppy – what was that? I was just going over next week’s schedule.” That earned a smack on my ass, and something totally unexpected. Ever get a tongue on your anus? I damned near flipped over the side of the couch.

“Oh my! Master – have you never been licked there before?” Well – Navy… annual exams. But pretty sure doc didn’t use his tongue.

“Master… try to relax… enjoy…” with that, either with tongue or finger, Poppy played my anus. The sensation was unreal… Ever been tickled from the inside? My thoughts went back to Robyn and what she was feeling the night of that massage; they were brutally interrupted as Poppy started teasing my opening with the moisturizer. The pleasure was insane, and intense.

“Master – I must warn you… this will feel a bit… unusual. Stay with me.” With that, she started to work the vibrator into me. It took a while, but she succeeded.

The shock of what happened next defies description. She had inserted the vibrator, and turned it on. Later, she swore it was at its lowest setting. By that, I think she meant San Fransisco, 1906. I would have passed out, if possible. Instead, I yelped like a fool. Poppy was there, with her arm on my lower back, keeping me in place. “There we go, Master! Now – lets figure out which setting will make you cum for me.”

And off she went. I lost track of time. The feelings went from intense pleasure, to tickling to itching to insanity. I learned a couple of things about myself: First, I was not ever going to cum with a vibrator inserted, regardless of the talent of the operator of the remote, without stimulation of my cock or balls; second, the sensation was one of permanent edging… desperate to cum – anything for relief… anything. She had won.

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