Shot in the Dark - Two

Her heartbeat picked up speed.  This was a little unusual for Mike, but certainly not out-of-bounds.  It excited her to know he felt comfortable enough to try something now.  And it just plain excited her.  The silk strip was cool against her cheekbones.  She could see light, but not image, if she lifted her lashes a fraction of an inch to peek out from beneath the blindfold.  Mike’s biceps were close by her face as he cinched it tight at the back of her head.  Then his hands fell to bare shoulders and drew up her throat, holding her still for a kiss.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“And you’re full of surprises.”

Mike laughed softly.  “You have no idea.”

His fingers slipped from her skin and she settled back.  Feet shuffled on the carpet, then a click and music began to play - something sultry with a slow, pulsing rhythm.  A door opened, probably the bathroom.  Mike always did like things to be perfect.  She let the beat of the song into her head, let it course through her body with the tingle of excitement.  It was easy to get lost in sound when sight was taken away.  He’d better hurry.

Then a hand, on her ankle.  Lifting it slightly and opening her knees, her thighs - spreading her wide in the seat before gently placing her foot back on the floor.    She hadn’t heard him return.  He moved into place before her, his size coming down, probably kneeling between her feet.  She smiled, knowing he could see her lips.  Two hands now ventured up her calves, open wide so palms pressed over her toned muscle.  It was unnerving, not being able to match a sight to the sensation.

Then at the back of her knees, he yanked roughly forward so her ass slipped to the edge of the cushion.  She squeaked in surprise, reclining over her bound wrists.  The top of her shoulders pressed along the armrest now, her head left to fall back in pleasure.

When the hockey commentators talked about Mike’s soft hands, they didn’t know how right they were.  His touch had always been electric.  Now the pads of his thumbs circled slowly up her inner thighs toward her bare cleft.  By feeling alone, it was impossible to tell where he was on her body, how close to the touch she ached for.  Nerve endings fired in confusion.  A shudder ran so far up her body that her neck tensed.  At that moment, his fingertip brushed her bare pussy.

She gasped.  A command leapt to her tongue but she swallowed it, wanting to be a good player in his little game.

Mike liked her bare down below.  She’d joked that his playoff beard defeated the purpose.  But now she reveled in the way his slightest touch vibrated across her smooth skin.  He traced up one side of her slit and down the other, just missing the dampening crease.  On the next pass, he lifted over her clit.  That command nearly came again, along with a few four letter words.  She bit her lip and breathed out hard.  Usually she was the one teasing him.  Around once more and he brushed faintly over her hot button.  It could have been her trembling that made the contact.  Either way, her toes curled inside her spike heels and she felt wetness slip from between her folds.

It seemed he’d been waiting for that invitation.  One finger caught the drop and followed the streak right up her quivering pussy, just enough to catch the bead without spreading its source.  More four letter words burned so hot in her mind she could see them on the insides of her eyelids.  His hand left her flesh for the first time - she pictured him sliding that finger, and her taste, over his tongue.  

It was only a moment’s reprieve.  He came closer, up on his knees now and taller over her prone form.  A strong hand pressed her right knee down, opening her wider, finally touching her with force.  One finger delved into her slit.  Just as she thought he would push inside and take her, penetrate her, knowing she’d probably come instantly, he backed off and simply swiped, parting her just enough to make her groan.  

I will not beg, she told herself.  A handful of cushion twisted between her tied hands for strength.

He must have been so hard, playing with her, watching her squirm helplessly.  The Mike she knew should have been screaming her name by now, dumping a hot load deep into her body.  This was some kind of superhuman Mike and fuck if it wasn’t torturing her to death.

A second finger joined the first, prodding just past the breach.  Then a little further.  He spread her folds and blew cold air across her feverish skin.  She flinched and tried to buck her hips.  She’d fuck his hand if he wouldn’t fuck her with it.  He was too quick and jerked away.

“Fuck!”  The word slipped out.  She opened her mouth as if to bite it back at the very moment he drove those two fingers deep into her pussy.

“OhmyGod,” she moaned, spilling everywhere, so wet she was dripping.  It forced all the thoughts from her mind, everything but the thick stock of something finally fucking her.  She pressed her head back to stop it spinning...

Right into someone’s hand.

“Baby,” Mike said at her ear.

She jumped.  Both of his hands clamped her shoulders down and the third hand fast to her knee.  The fourth hand was working its magic.

“What the....” she squirmed uselessly.  Mike alone could have kept her down - he had before.  They were no match in strength.  Whoever had a handful of her thigh was no slouch either.

“Don’t fight,” he instructed.  “Shhhhh.”

As if on cue, that other thumb gently rubbed her clit.  Only her mind was confused.  Her body knew exactly what it wanted and responded with a burst of fireworks.  A cry twisted from her throat.

“Mike,” she said weakly.

“You’re beautiful,” he repeated.  His hands worked along her shoulders: massaging, relaxing.  How could he be so calm when another guy - that was the only possibility - was violating his girlfriend in the most amazing way?

“Maybe too much,” Mike went on.  “I’ve had to listen to half the guys detail exactly how they’d like to fuck you.”

Her eyes rolled back behind the blindfold.  Mike’s voice was angry but his words were being acted out before his very eyes - not even hers - and she was about to come at another man’s command.  Those fingers hadn’t slowed.  They worked deep and back, still stroking her clit so that she twitched like a live wire.  There were protests in her head but no words in her mouth.

“And I see the way you look at them,” he said.  Now his touch moved slowly along her neck, a hot spot he’d long since identified and exploited.  She knew he could feel the pulse pounding beneath her skin, as strongly as desire pooled between her hips.

It was true.  A rush of guilt made her squeeze her eyes shut in the darkness.  One of the perfect other men she’d admired and flirted with was having his way with her at Mike’s invitation.  It could be any one of maybe ten guys.  That man’s thumb pressed deeper into her clit and stroked firmly, drawing a traitorous whimper from her lips.  She would come for him and she’d come hard, and Mike would watch.

“I know what you fantasize about.”  Mike’s hand snaked into her bra.  She tried to draw a breath, but between his words and the onslaught below her waist, there was no chance.  

“Is he good?”  The question was hot on her skin.  She didn’t want to answer.  Mike pinched her stiffened nipple so hard she winced.  “Tell me, baby. Do you like the way he feels inside you?”

Panting, she nodded.

“Do you want to come for him?”

So, so much, she thought.  But it seemed heartbreakingly wrong.  She was crazy about Mike, maybe even in love with him, and she’d somehow pushed him to this without even knowing.  Beneath the blindfold, a tear slipped from her lashes.

She nodded again.  The thumb at her clit slowed to a gentle circle.

Mike traced around the curve of her ear, tucking her hair out of the way.  “You’re mine.”

“Yes,” she answered.

“You’re mine,” he whispered.  “And I will give you anything you want.”

Her entire body was a rolling boil.

“You want to know who he is,” Mike stated the fact, as if debating whether or not to reveal the identity.  “Tell her.”

The man between her thighs leaned closer, pressing his fingers even deeper.  She sobbed out a tiny cry.  A stranger’s mouth touched down gently, barely moving her lips.

“It’s Max, cherie.”

Any last resolve fled.  Max.  The only thing she knew about Max was she wanted to fuck him.  He was a stranger - not just to her, but Mike didn’t know him either.  To let him in here, to let him inside her... she said his name.  She wanted to do a hell of a lot more than that.  

“Oui, chaton,” came that silky, accented voice and with it another twist of his hand.  She bit her lip hard enough to taste blood.  An image of that rouge’s smile and those chocolate brown eyes.  God damn her tied wrists, she wanted to grab his messy hair and put his mouth to the spot he was flicking.  Sensing her frustration, Max increased the pressure.

Mike whispered the quietest truth yet, meant only for her.  “I thought he wanted to fuck you before.  You should see him now.”

Max worked harder, proving the point.  Whatever she was going to say - a plea, an apology - died on her lips.  Her pussy tightened around his wide fingers, she fought against her tied hands like a fish on a hook.  

Mike tipped her head back and kissed her as she came.  Max worked right through it.  She had to twist her face free to scream when the bottom finally dropped out.  It was like falling twenty stories, then discovering there were twenty left to go.  
_____

Mike watched in awe as Max Talbot sidled right up to his girlfriend and broke her like an egg on the first try.  Not just made her wet, but did it so well she had no idea it was a second man, a stranger, until Mike spilled the secret.  She thought Max’s touch was his own, and he’d had seven months of practicing playing her keys.  Max hit the note right away.

Good thing I didn’t plan to let him fuck her.

Still, watching her come undone had Mike so hard he could barely see.  His cock beat against his jeans, straining to get even a tiny bit of the action going on in front of him.  She kept throwing her head back and opening her mouth like this was the best thing that ever happened.  The moment she realized it wasn’t him was priceless - he owned her, she was truly his.  He thought she might say stop, but no.  He’d been right about one thing: she wanted to fuck this guy.  So Mike gave her what she wanted.  At least a taste.  And he tore it from her, screaming, while Mike tried not to faint from all the blood pounding in his own erection.

“Kiss her,” Mike rasped as she fell silent, spent.

Max’s slick fingers pressed along her jaw and he swiped his thumb across her bottom lip, spreading her own juice there.  Then he kissed it off.  His tongue swept into her mouth.  He leaned until his hard-on pressed firmly into her leg, so she’d know he wanted it to.  So she’d know that if Mike wasn’t there, he’d give her exactly what he body was begging for.  Max never left a woman wanting.

“A bientot,” Max said, breaking the kiss.  Another promise, another threat.  

Mike watched from behind her back until the dark-haired Frenchman walked out the bedroom door.  He came around to face her.  She reached for him blindly, he took her hand.  She was still shaking.  He wondered if she ever shook for him.

“Mike,” her voice was weak, watered down by another man’s kiss.  “This is crazy.”

“You don’t have to be shy with me.”  He kissed Max’s memory from her lips.  “It turns me on to watch you come for another man.  To know they want you so badly, but you’re mine.”  His fingers grazed her slick pussy and she jumped, then stilled as he gently stroked.  

“I’m yours,” she said.

“Good.  Because I’m not done sharing you yet.”

“Mike, I....”

He put his wet fingers to her lips, stilling her voice.  Then he kissed them clean. “You will,” he told her.  “And I’ll be right here to see how much you like it.”
___


Mike was interviewed post-game last night and I may have fainted from the idea of this story. ;) - Juliet
_