Cathal Chapter 19 #2
“Oh, yes, of course, I can do that,” she said, catching on that we were role-playing. She walked over and stood where I told her to. I picked up the pen, signed our contract, then held it out to her. Without a pause, she signed, not even reading it.
“Didn’t you want to read it?” I asked.
“No, I trust you to have put everything we discussed in it. Now what?”
“If you remove the robe and lie facedown on the bed, we can get started with your session,” I said, as if I were a masseuse showing a client to his table.
I thought playful role-playing would be fun.
And this one would allow me to get my hands and more on every inch of Bronagh’s body.
I swear she took her time untying and removing the robe, making me burn for her.
It worked. She hung the robe on the headboard, then crawled onto the mattress and lay flat on her stomach with her hands under her head, her head turned to the side so she could see me.
“Good. Now, Miss, I want you to close your eyes and let yourself drift. I’ve been told you’re a very special customer, and that I’m to give you my deluxe massage.”
I stayed in the role, and she did as I asked.
When her eyes closed, I turned on the soft, instrumental music.
The kind that you hear in a spa. Mam and the girls say it’s one of the things they love about going to one.
The other was the scents in the air. I chose a jasmine one.
I saw Bronagh take a deep breath, and her body seemed to sink further into the mattress.
On my nightstand was a lotion-and-oil warmer. I chose oil for her. I coated my palms, then stood beside the bed and touched her shoulders. Bronagh gave a tiny jerk. I kneaded her muscles.
“Miss, if I do it too hard or too light, tell me. And if I touch anywhere that needs extra attention, let me know. I want you to enjoy every moment,” I told her with innuendo in my tone.
I worked the back of her neck and shoulders, making her groan. She was caught up in the massage, forgetting anything else when I leaned over and nipped her earlobe with my teeth, then ran the tip of my tongue over the bite spot to soothe it. Bronagh yelped, and her eyelids flew open.
“No, no, you have to keep them shut. Don’t let me see you open them again without permission,” I said, sliding in a bite of authority to my words.
Her eyes closed slowly. I planned to make her open them again without permission.
I worked down her back, drawing out groans and moans as I worked her tight muscles.
She was tense. I needed to remember to have her treated to a monthly spa day at a minimum.
I could be the one in between visits, doing more intimate ones.
I was to the small of her back when I lowered my head again and nipped her ass cheek with my teeth. She reared up, gasped, and looked down at me. I sighed and shook my head.
“Miss, you’re not relaxing or following directions. I’m sorry, but you give me no choice but to make sure you don’t look again.”
“What does that mean?” Bronagh asked.
I stopped massaging and went to my nightstand drawer, where I put the implements I wanted to use on her tonight. I pulled out a long, rectangular piece of cloth.
“Stay like that,” I ordered.
As she remained raised off the bed, I swiftly blindfolded her. Her breathing kicked up, but she didn’t tell me to stop. Nothing I planned to do to her tonight was on her forbidden list. A few were on her ‘never-did-but-would-try’ list.
“There, that’s better. Now, lie back down and try to relax. No moving. Stay still.”
“Okay, I will,” she replied.
That’s when I began touching her in less than masseuse-appropriate ways.
If a real one ever touched her like this, they’d be dead.
I got to her ass and had her spread her legs for me.
I didn’t bother at all during my fake massage to cover her body.
You were supposed to keep everything covered except the area you were working on.
I kneaded her cheeks and made sure my thumbs ran down the crack and over her puckered asshole. She squirmed.
I clicked my tongue. “Remember, stay still.”
“I’m trying,” she muttered back. I grinned.
I jumped my hands to her upper thighs and rubbed so close to her pussy, she tensed.
But I didn’t touch even though she was wet.
I saw it in the candlelight. I kept up this torture for a good five minutes before I let my fingers glide “accidentally” up the center of her folds.
This time, Bronagh’s gasp was loud, and her whole body jerked.
I let out a loud sigh and stopped touching her.
“I see you’re a difficult one. I’ll have to help keep you still, too.”
As I told her that, I slid my hand under the corner of the mattress.
She heard me. I knew not being able to see would heighten her awareness and her body’s responses.
She heard me bring something out, but had no clue what I held until I gently took one of her arms from her side.
She no longer had them underneath her head.
I wrapped the soft cuff around her wrist and buckled it.
“Is, is that a cuff?” she asked somewhat hoarsely.
“Why yes, it is. I find them very good for reducing movement,” I said seductively.
In no more than two minutes. I had both wrists and ankles cuffed. The ones I used were joined and ran under the mattress where I placed them earlier. They kept her arms and legs from moving much, and she was spread-eagled. She was at my mercy. I whispered in her ear when I finished.
“How does it feel to be at my mercy? To know I can touch you any way I want, so that you can only feel, smell, and hear me. I like to have a naughty woman who doesn’t follow directions at my mercy. I’m going to give you my extra-special massage now.”
“What makes it extra special?” she asked.
“This,” I replied, then I moved and pulled her ass cheeks apart and ran my tongue up and down her crack, pausing to tickle her asshole with my tongue. Bronagh cried out, and her hips jerked.
“You’re not holding still, and you’re making noise. Stay quiet,” I demanded.
However, the evil in me made me not only flicker my tongue over her hole again, but when she moaned, I landed a slap to her ass cheek. It wasn’t terribly hard, but it stung. Bronagh’s whole body jerked, and she cried my name.
“Cathal!”
“Yelling my name won’t make me stop. I’m just getting started. I need to teach you how to be a good little girl. How to relax,” I insisted.
That’s when I gave up most of the pretense of massaging her, though I would get more touching and kneading in when I turned her over, if I turned her. Her ripe ass was begging me to stay right there. And the way my cock ached in my briefs told me that Bronagh would test the limits of my restraint.
Tired of the restrictive briefs, I took them off. The relief was small, but anything helped. I fisted my cock and stood there, letting my slick hand glide up and down my length as I stared at her.
“What’re you doing?” she asked.
“I’m looking at you while I jerk off my cock. If you speak again, you’re getting more punishment,” I warned her, hoping she would ignore me.
“Why don’t you punish me by putting that somewhere?” she enticed, then wiggled her bottom.
“Oh, really? What if I decided to put it here?” I asked, teasing my fingertip in a circle over her asshole.
Bronagh’s breathing hitched. We spoke of anal sex. She told me of her one accidental penetration with a finger and her desire to know if she’d like anal, but confessed she had apprehension, too. I told her it was normal and we could work around it. I would never go straight to my cock in her ass.
“I’d love that if we can work up to it. For example, right now, if you wanted to slip your finger in there, I wouldn’t say no.”
I said nothing, just let go of my cock and rained four rapid slaps onto her ass cheeks.
Bronagh shouted as her ass turned pink, then darker, but I knew she loved it because of the amount of her cream that slipped out of her pussy to glisten on her folds.
As she lay there with the stinging still radiating, I lowered myself over her ass, spread her cheeks with one hand, then coated my oiled finger in more lubrication from her pussy.
Then, I pressed my forefinger into her hole.
I inched forward and then back slowly, taking it deeper with each thrust. Her asshole was like a vise surrounding my finger.
“There it is. That ass is as tight as I hoped it would be. Oh yeah, let me massage you here. I bet if I do it long enough, I can make you come. Have you ever come while getting a massage? You can speak,” I told her.
“No, no, I haven’t,” she confessed.
I watched her puckered hole take my finger like it was born to do it. She hissed a few times and breathed hard, but she never asked or ordered me to stop. When I had it buried up to my last knuckle, I was sweating.
Precum oozed from my cock, dying to be inside her. But first, I had to see if I could get my wife to climax from anal penetration only. If I could, goddamn, I’d be an even luckier man. I curled my finger, rubbing it on the inner lining of her asshole again and again, as I nipped her burning cheeks.
Bronagh squirmed. There was no way to fight it.
I sped up my thrusts and incorporated more love bites and slaps.
A minute later, I had my answer. Bronagh shouted as she came.
Her ass almost squeezed my finger in half, and more precious cream came out of her.
I watched as she got off. The sight of her, and the way her skin flushed when she did, made my horniness spike even more.
But I refused to ease it. I wanted that final moment when I gave in and appeased myself to be explosive for us both, which meant I needed to keep her orgasming.
She needed to escape everything in her mind but her awareness of her body and her pleasure.
When her body relaxed, I eased my finger free, then placed a kiss on both ass cheeks.
“Stay right like you are and float. I’ll be back,” I promised.