Author: Mnemosyne memoryvixen@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: If they were mine, this would have happened a LONG time ago.
Summary:Maria's been a bad girl. Michael has to punish her.
Feedback: Love it!
"You've had enough of two-hand touch--
You want it rough,
You're out of bounds..."
--Bloodhound Gang
"The Bad Touch"
*********
"I'm bored."
Michael Guerin froze in his exploration of Maria Deluca's throat. "What?" he asked, his voice muffled by her smooth skin.
She pushed at his shoulders, and he sat back on his bed. "I said, I'm bored," she restated, crossing her arms.
He held his arms out to the side. "What? How the hell can you be bored? We were making some pretty damn good headway, if you know what I mean."
Maria rolled her eyes. "Michael, this is the same thing we do EVERY night. Not that it's not nice and all, but...." She trailed off, shrugging helplessly.
Michael decided not to let his wounded pride show. "So? What do you suggest we do? And if you say we should go rent 'Fried Green Tomatoes' or something, I'll scream like a girl."
Maria grinned. "Well, cute as that would be to witness, I was thinking of something a little more interesting than that."
"'Thelma and Louise?'"
She smacked him in the arm, and he winced. "Ow! What the hell was that for?"
"Because you're being a dumbass."
"I'm horny. It's my job."
Maria sighed deeply, and let her body drape backwards until she rested against his pillows. Michael felt a familiar leap in his groin, and cleared his throat.
"Mmm, I think you'll like my idea," she purred, stretching like a cat, her arms reaching up above her head to grip his headboard as her legs squirmed against his sheets, her back arching away from the mattress.
Michael was aware he was staring, slack-jawed, as she moved, but he didn't really care. "Oh yeah? And what EXACTLY is your idea?"
Her eyes met his, and he was shocked to see they were smoldering already. And he'd barely even touched her.
Sitting up slowly-- he was pretty positive she meant to flash him that much cleavage-- Maria pulled herself onto her hands and knees, so she was face to face with him.
"I didn't do my chemistry homework last night," she murmured.
Michael felt his lust dampen a bit. "You want us to do makeup chem homework?" he asked, puzzled. "Maria, no offense, but that's kinda killing the buzz."
She rolled her eyes, and the desire that had burned there a second ago was momentarily gone, replaced by annoyance. "No, you nitwit. Would you pay attention?"
"I thought I was."
"Just shut up and listen."
"Whatever."
Clearing her throat, Maria tossed her luxurious mane of golden hair-- he liked it long; liked it a lot-- and when she met his eyes again, the sex kitten was back in full force.
"The teacher got mad at me," she purred, supporting herself on one arm as the other came up to trace his chest with a delicate finger. "She said I wasn't doing my part as a good student."
Michael's attention was completely focused on the path her finger was tracing up his chest and the pure lust in her green eyes, but he somehow managed to formulate a response. "Oh yeah?"
She nodded, and crawled a little closer, straddling his legs with her knees and pressing her chest against his.
"I've been a bad girl," she whispered, running one hand up his back to comb through his hair. "I think I need to be punished."
Ok, this DEFINITELY put the smack down on 'Thelma and Louise.'
*********
Maria could tell immediately that Michael was enjoying their little game. For one thing, his eyes had gone about three shades darker when she said the word "punish," and his pupils had expanded like galaxies. Then there was the distinct hardness she felt pressing into her nether regions, which had only grown harder since she shimmied up against him.
She grinned. "So?" she asked, tracing his cheekbone with the tip of her finger. "Do I get what's coming to me?"
She felt his arms curl up around her, bringing her closer to his chest, so that she had to curve her back to still look into his eyes. "Coming? Yeah," he answered, his eyes sparkling. "You'll get that."
Maria felt his hand slip down her back again, then curl around her waist to dive under her tight-fitting cotton tee. She jumped a little as his fingers found the front clasp of her bra and toyed with it.
"So you want to be punished?" he asked, eyes heavy-lidded.
His fingers slipped inside her bra then, and he cupped one perfect breast. She gulped. "Yes," she murmured, her fingers tightening on his shoulders as he kneaded her flesh.
Leaning in close, Michael pressed his lips against the base of her throat. "Then you'll do everything I say?"
He pinched her nipple, and she yelped.
"Yes!" she gasped, bending forward to press her face into his hair, her hands entwining behind his neck. "Yes, anything."
He pulled his face away from her throat, and she forced herself to look into his eyes.
"Then stand up," he said softly, taking his hand from her breast.
She tried not to moan at the loss of his touch, and did as he said, pulling herself away from him and standing beside the bed. She felt like she should be wearing a schoolgirl's uniform-- like she was lining up for inspection.
"Take your shirt off," he instructed her.
Obediently, she pulled the t-shirt over her head, and let it drop to the floor.
"And the skirt."
In a moment, the black micro-mini joined the shirt on the ratty rug beside the bed. Maria now stood before him in nothing but her pink lace bra and matching panties.
He nodded approvingly, and stood up. "Wait here," he told her. "And don't turn around."
She gulped. "Okay."
He passed her, and made his way into the kitchen. She heard him clattering around in cupboards and drawers, and found herself wondering what exactly he was looking for, but she didn't let herself turn around to investigate. The mystery was oddly thrilling.
Eventually, the noises behind her stopped, and she tensed, suddenly aware that she really had no control in this situation. She'd given it all to him. It made her palms sweat.
Seemingly out of nowhere, she felt him draw up behind her, but she didn't glance over her shoulder at him, though she wanted to. Desperately. "Find what you wanted?" she asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.
He moved closer, and she could feel his warmth against her back. "Yeah," he said.
"What were you looking for?"
"These." His hand circled around her from behind, and she saw what he held.
Scissors.
"What...are those for?" she asked, and his other hand came up from the other side to cover her mouth.
"Shh, Maria," he murmured in her ear. "Let me do the talking. I'll tell you when to talk. Okay?"
She nodded.
"Good." He placed a gentle kiss on her left shoulder as he drew his hand back, and she tilted her head back and to the side to rub her cheek against his hair.
As she did so, she heard a SNIP, and felt the right strap of her bra fall away.
Her head snapped up, and she looked at her right shoulder. He'd clipped the strap, and it now hung in two halves from the wire-reinforced cup and cloth back of her bra.
As her attention was distracted by her right shoulder, she heard another SNIP, and felt the left bra strap go the way of the right. Her attention flew to that shoulder, and her eyes widened. He was peeling her like an orange.
"Turn around," she heard him murmur against her hair.
She obeyed, feeling a thrill of illicit excitement pulse through her. Having her actions dictated by someone else was more arousing than she'd imagined.
Once she was facing him, his free hand came up to tilt her chin so she looked him in the eye. He smiled. "The finishing touch," he said, and she felt the cool steel of the scissors' blade trail up her spine and slip under the pink band of satin that made up the back of her bra.
SNIIIP!
The fabric gave way immediately, and she felt the bra pop away from her body. It landed on the floor in front of her in two pieces-- the front clasp had released as it fell.
Maria stared down at the two cups on the rug at her feet, then looked back to Michael's face. His eyes were on her breasts, and he raised his free hand to cup one of the smooth mounds. She let her eyes close as his fingers worked her.
Then he said it.
"Now you."
Her eyes opened, and through her dazed lust, she saw that he was holding the scissors out for her to take.
"What?" she asked, finding it hard to concentrate because of his hands.
He tweaked her nipple again, harder this time, and the pleasure she experienced mixed with a sharp stab of pain. She shrieked softly, and jumped.
"I said I'd tell you when to speak, Maria," he told her.
She nodded. Was it wrong that she'd actually enjoyed that pinch? Was it wrong that she wanted him to do it again?
He pressed the scissors into her hand and took her by the shoulders, turning her again. Pulling her forward so she was no more than a pace away from the bed, he held her at arm's length and sat on the edge of the mattress.
"The panties," he said, releasing her. "Get rid of them."
She nodded slowly, and moved the scissors to her right hip.
"Slowly," he told her, and she paused to look at him.
Moving her hand at a slower pace, and keeping eye contact with him, Maria slipped the scissors down her hip and under the fabric of her bikini underwear. With a measured, steady slice, she cut through the satin, and the panties fell open like a banana peel.
"And the other side," Michael said.
Turning her upper body, she repeated the action. The panties now hung between her legs, held there by her thighs.
"Spread your legs, Maria," he told her. "Let them fall."
She swallowed, and did as she was told. The scrap of cloth tumbled to the floor, and she stood naked before him.
Almost immediately, she could smell her own lust, and it made Maria blush to realize that she was already moist. Michael must have noticed, too, because a sly smile spread across his face. He leaned forward and fetched her useless panties off the floor. Bringing them to his face, he inhaled deeply.
"Smells like someone's excited," he murmured, drawing the satin away from his nose. Maria flushed darker.
She watched as he stretched out a hand towards the juncture of her legs. A finger slid up her inner thigh, and she trembled as it pushed its way between her lower lips, skimming quickly forward along her cleft. She jumped, and a surprised gasp passed her lips.
When his hand pulled away, Michael's index finger glistened with her juices. He smiled at her. "Tell me, are these all for me?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"Yes what?"
She swallowed, watching as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, the lubricated digits moving smoothly against one another. "Yes, they're all for you."
"I make you this wet?"
"You make me wetter."
Michael grinned, and slowly brought his finger to his lips. Making sure he kept eye contact with her, he slipped it into his mouth and sucked away the moisture he'd collected. Maria watched, mesmerized, as his mouth worked.
Finally, he took the finger from his mouth, and smiled. "You taste horny," he murmured, and his hand went back to her cleft. This time, unabashedly, he slipped his fingers between her lower lips and pulled at her clit. She moaned, and threw her head back as he rubbed her.
"Wouldn't you like to know what it tastes like when you're horny?"
She nodded quickly.
"You can speak."
"Y-yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I... I want to know what I taste like, Michael. Oh...ahh...oh, God! I want to know what I taste like when I'm all horny for you!"
"Then come closer."
She somehow managed to get her legs to work, even with his fingers stroking her to the breaking point. She dropped the scissors, and her hands shot out to grip his shoulders as he tweaked her clit especially hard. Her hips bucked forward. She felt a thin rivulet of moisture snake down her inner thigh.
*********
"Baby had a kinky side," Michael sing-songed, as his free hand smoothed up the back of Maria's leg to cup her ass. "Baby liked to let it ride. Baby held on hot and tight. Baby tasted good inside."
On the last word, he pushed his finger deeper between her lips, and into her soaked passage.
"Oh, GOD!" she shrieked, and she almost crumpled forward against him as he twisted his finger within her. "Oh, SHIT!"
"Uh-uh-uh," he scolded, grinning. "No talking, remember."
She whimpered, and bit her lip. She looked so delectable, fighting the urge to scream.
He withdrew his finger from her sheath, and she moaned as he did so. "Open your eyes, Maria," he told her, and she did. "Look at me." When she did, he felt that familiar tightening in his groin again. She was silently begging him to finish what he'd started-- to give her that climax she'd been so close to.
But she'd been a bad girl. She needed a little more punishment.
"Climb on to the bed," he said. "On your hands and knees, facing me. And make it sexy."
Shakily-- her limbs were trembling, so he figured it was a good idea to get her on something soft-- Maria slinked onto the bed beside him. She curved her back as she crawled towards him, and the tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. He wanted to suck that tongue.
He quickly ripped off his shirt and threw it aside. The jeans soon followed-- he'd long ago perfected the art of getting out of his pants without getting off the bed. Sitting there in black boxers and nothing else, watching her eye him hungrily, he was suddenly aware of just what they were doing. What she was allowing him to do.
God, he loved her.
Pulling himself back onto the center of the bed, he beckoned for her to follow. She crawled after him.
"You want to taste yourself?" he asked.
She nodded eagerly.
He held up his hand again. His index finger was still damp with her moisture. "Open," he said.
Obediently, she opened her mouth. He spent a second just gazing at the warm pink cavern, remembering how soft her tongue felt.
Then, shaking himself, he brought his hand closer to her face. "You know what to do," he murmured.
Maria looked at him, her eyes lidded with passion, then moved forward, enclosing his forefinger in the hot moisture of her mouth. Tenderly, she began to suck.
Michael watched her for a moment-- the ardent concentration; the pretty line that formed across her brow; the gentle suction of her cheeks as she tasted herself on his skin.
He began to stroke her back like a cat, and she arched compliantly. Her skin was so smooth-- whipped cream over marble. He could feel her tongue looping circles around the tip of his finger, and it made him harden even more.
Moving his hand down her spine and over her rear, he found her damp cleft again, and buried three of his fingers in her sheath. She almost choked on his hand as he did so, but he was careful with her, and she went back to sucking on his finger-- harder now than before.
"That's right," he murmured. "That's right, my little kitten. My little pussy. Do you like what I'm doing to you?"
She groaned, and sucked extra hard.
He used the hand he had plunged into her soaked canal to maneuver her lower body around, so that she was now perpendicular to him. "Do you want me to keep doing this?" he asked, and moved his fingers quickly back and forth three or four times.
She hitched a gasp around his finger, and nodded quickly.
"Be a good girl, and I will," he told her. "Can you be a good girl? You can speak."
She released his finger, and gasped. "YES!" she moaned, arching her back and pushing herself deeper onto his fingers. "Oh, fuck, YES!"
He leaned in closer. "Take the boxers off," he whispered.
Eager fingers clawed at the elasticated waistband of his boxers while her hips still rocked against his hand. He raised up a little so she could slip them off his legs and onto the floor. He was naked now-- as buff as she was, and almost as hot and bothered.
"Go on," he urged her. "You know what I'm gonna ask."
He felt odd doing this. Well, odd was a relative term- who WOULDN'T feel odd, getting their hand fucked by their goddess of a girlfriend while inviting her to basically pull a porno with your....your... Well, he couldn't even think the word, which went to show how warped his morals were at this point in time.
Maria looked up. Her pupils were dilated, making her eyes even more liquid than usual. A wicked grin graced her face, and she licked her lips. Then she turned away.
The next thing he knew, her warm mouth had slipped over his rock hard erection, and the world exploded into technicolor dots and static.
"Oh...shit...." he moaned. "Fuck, fuck, fuck...!"
She sank down slowly, pulled up quick, then repeated the action. The third time around, she closed her teeth a little more, so they grazed along the hardened flesh, and he gasped. "MARIA!" he yelped.
Her hips had slowed in their assault on his hand, and he decided that wouldn't do, so he began plunging his fingers in again, harder than before; faster.
She groaned, and the sound vibrated against his shaft, making him wince and hiss. "Oh, yeah," he muttered, keeping his hand working while the other buried itself in her soft golden hair. "Yes, good girl!"
She was bouncing hard against him now, and small whimpers and moans of pleasure thrummed around his erection. Michael bit his lip, fighting to keep from just cumming in her mouth. Sure, he'd heard they did that a lot in skin flicks-- all right, he'd seen them, too-- but this wasn't a skin flick. He wasn't going to turn Maria into some porn queen, even if she COULD use that mouth like some silver screen vixen.
Tightening his grip on her hair, he held her still before she could come up again. "Maria...stop," he gasped. "Before...Just stop."
He released her hair, and she slowly drew her mouth up along his shaft again.
Her eyes met his. "Didn't I...do it right?" she asked, panting.
He cupped her cheek, and almost laughed at the confused expression in her eyes. "Oh, God. Baby, you did it SO right, I almost couldn't take it. But..." he trailed off, and that wicked grin came back. "Since you just spoke..."
He slipped his fingers from her sheath, and she gasped.
"NO!" she shrieked. "Michael, please! I was...I was so CLOSE!"
Michael brought the hand to his mouth, and licked each digit clean. One. Two. Three. "But I said no talking, remember?" he told her. "And you just talked. Twice, actually." He leaned forward, so that his lips were right near her ear.
"I don't think you've learned your lesson yet. I think you need a spanking."
********
Maria's eyes lit up, and she saw Michael grin. He was enjoying this. Which was good, because so was she.
"Maybe I do," she said.
"You just did it again."
She pressed her lips together and smiled, batting her lashes.
He moved then-- quickly, with stealthy grace-- and pulled her up against his chest as he knelt on the bed. "Oh no, kitten," he said, stroking her back. "Playing the nice girl isn't going to get you out of THIS one." He smacked her on the rear-- lightly, not enough to leave a mark-- and continued. "Bend over."
She did as she was told, sliding down his chest so that her derrier was in the air, and leaned on her elbows. She took a brief detour on her way down to kiss his erection, and heard him suck in a quick breath.
"Oh, you want to play like that, huh?" he said, and she looked over her shoulder to see the glint in his eye.
He smiled-- dazzling against his sweat-coated face. "Well, two can play at that game." He crawled around so he was behind her, positioned between her feet.
"Oh, I could get used to this view," he observed, and Maria blushed. It was stupid, to blush now, after all that had already transpired. But she knew how wet she was, and she could feel herself growing wetter just from his gaze. Her body was completely open to him, and she was still jonesing for completion. Her breath was coming quicker already, and he hadn't even touched her.
When his fingers DID make contact with her flesh, she stopped breathing entirely. His palms smoothed up her thighs and cupped her rear. Then, quickly, he raised one hand and brought it down, SLAP!, on her tender flesh.
She sucked in a breath, winced, and bit her lip, as the stinging pain pulsed in her rump.
"How many times did you speak, Maria? Was it three? Well, let's call that one, and this," SLAP! "is two. Then," SLAP! "three. And one," SLAP! "because even numbers are better than odd."
Maria arched her back on the fourth slap, and let out a garbled cry. She could feel his handprints, hot and pulsing, on her tender skin, but it didn't hurt. Not really. It just burned. Like a brand. Like he'd marked her.
Suddenly, something cool and wet was touching the throbbing heat on her derrier, and she stilled before realizing it was his tongue. Then she relaxed a little. He was cooling her irritated skin.
He laved each inch of red flesh, and blew lightly, making her squirm happily.
"You like that, huh?" he asked, and she nodded against his comforter. "I still haven't gotten you back for that little stunt you pulled on your way down, blondie. Don't you think maybe I should deal with that?"
She nodded again. If this was punishment, she had to be bad more often.
Before she could come up with another thought, she felt the hot cavern of his mouth close over her moist center, and she cried out, throwing back her head and clenching his comforter in her fists. //Oh, shit, YES, Michael!// she screamed internally, wishing he'd let her say it aloud, but secretly loving his domination of her.
His tongue entered her, a quick darting motion-- in and out-- and she whimpered. //God, don't do that to me, Michael!// she begged silently. //Don't just tease me like that!//
Maybe Michael heard her, because the next time his tongue crept within her, it went slowly, luxuriously. She could feel him exploring her internal structure: how smooth she was; how moist. She sobbed with pleasure and buried her face in his blankets.
When he pulled away a minute later, she groaned with frustration.
"Do you want me to keep doing that to you, Maria? You can tell me if you do. Tell me what you want."
She took a deep, shaky breath, trying to regain her voice. It was easier when he didn't want her to speak-- then she didn't have to think. She could just feel.
"Yes," she murmured, turning her face so it was no longer buried in the comforter. "Yes, Michael, please. Don't...don't stop."
She felt his fingers stroke her cleft, and she spread her knees farther apart, groaning.
"Do you want me to make you cum?"
The very idea of orgasming made her hips flex forward unconciously. "Yes." She struggled for breath.
"Yes...?"
"Yes, Michael. Please...make me cum..."
He continued to stroke her, but she could feel his breath grow stronger against her heat. "Talk dirty," he said. "Tell me how it makes you feel. Tell me how nasty it makes you feel."
Maria rubbed her cheek against his bedclothes. "Touch me," she said breathlessly, and felt his tongue lave her damp mound. "Oh, God, just fuck me, Michael. I want you to fuck me-- hard. Fast." His fingers slipped inside her, and she let out a keening wail. "Gahhhhh! I-I want you to make me scream, Michael! Please, oh shit, yes, make me fucking SCREAM."
She felt him moving again, and his free hand slipped up between her legs to tug her clit as his other fingers continued to plunge into her.
Maria's hips moved without thought. She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees and craned her neck back as far as it would go, gasping for air as she rocked her hips wildly. "Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Oh, God. Oh, God. Gahhh... Michael!"
"How badly do you want it?" he murmured.
"PLEASE!" she shrieked.
"How badly?" he repeated, pinching her clit again.
A sharp stab of need ripped through her. "ANYTHING! I'LL DO FUCKING ANYTHING! JUST DON'T STOP! OH...OH, GOD!"
She felt him blow lightly on the hot, moist flesh of her core, and she let out a long, wordless cry. "That's what I wanted to hear," he said.
Michael crooked a finger within her, and suddenly, the world exploded into six hundred thousand stars as a wave of unbelievable pleasure tore through her body.
"FUCK YES!!!" Maria screamed, her hips bucking forward viciously as she came.
It was spectacular. The best orgasm she'd ever had. It seemed to stretch on into eternity, as her sheath spasmed around his expert fingers. She felt her juices trickle down her leg, but his tongue was there to lick them away before they strayed too far. Her breathing came sporadically, in time with her quivering canal.
Eventually, the tremors of her climax eased, and she felt her muscles begin to give way. She let herself slump forward to the bed, breathing shakily and trying not to cry from the pleasure of the release she'd just experienced.
It wasn't until Michael slipped his fingers from her body that she remembered he was there, and groaned at the loss. She started to let her hips collapse to the mattress, but he stopped her, gripping her thighs and holding her up.
"Not just yet," he said. "We have to clean you up a bit first."
Michael's tongue passed over her, and she purred happily, squirming under the assault. He lapped at her moist center, his hands making firm circular motions on her thighs.
When he was done, he lowered her body to the bed, and she lay there, totally spent, ready to drift off into dreamland.
But Michael had other plans.
He pulled himself up over her, so that his body hovered over hers, his chest to her back, and whispered in her ear. "You said anything."
Maria's eyes opened, and she gazed up at him drowsily. //Wha'...?//
Michael answered her unspoken question. "You said you'd do anything if I'd let you cum." He licked her earlobe. "It's time to pay up."
********
He kept the rope in his bedside table for possible emergencies. Fire, attack-- anytime he might need to get out the window for a quick escape.
Of course, he'd made sure to get something smooth when he bought it, not quite sure why. Some vague idea that he didn't want rough rope digging into his hands if he ever had to use it occurred to him, but he knew that wasn't right.
Now, in this instant, as he bound Maria's right wrist to his headboard, he thought he understood his choice.
Once the right hand was bound, he moved to the left. Gently, he wrapped the rope once, twice, three times around her slim wrist, tying it in a loose slip knot. Then, stretching her arm up, he quickly secured it to the headboard.
Climbing off the bed, he looked down at his handiwork. She gazed up at him, arms spread eagle, legs curled together in a way that was both demure and dead sexy, all at the same time.
Now, the fun could begin.
Returning the rest of the coil of rope to his side table, he removed something else-- a camera. It wasn't very big, hardly anything to crow about. But it took a damn good picture, even in poor lighting like that in his apartment.
Standing at the foot of the bed, Michael grinned at her. "Smile pretty for the camera," he said.
Maria's smile was instantaneous, and he knew she was enjoying this. He raised the camera and snapped the first picture. He had a roll of 36 exposures, of which barely a quarter were used. He intended to finish it off tonight.
She soon warmed into her role, and began to play to the camera. She wiggled up into a sitting position and leaned as far forward as her bound wrists would allow her, letting her round breasts graze her knees. Once he'd snapped that shot, she twisted around to give him a perfect view of her rear.
SNAP! FLASH!
Onto her knees, like a rising angel.
SNAP! FLASH!
Onto her back again, one knee up, the other leg stretched as far as it could reach; toes pointed; back curved in a sensuous arch.
SNAP! FLASH!
And on, and on...
Last shot, and it had to be perfect. He listened to the 35mm whir the film forward to the last frame, and just gazed at her.
"You're honey golden," he said, not quite understanding WHY he'd said it; but it sounded good, and it made her blush, which made her even MORE beautiful, if that was possible. "Last picture. So many choices. What shall I have you do..?" He trailed off, trying to decide what position to place her in.
But she was too quick for him.
Grinning wickedly, she squirmed into a sitting position again, her back pressed against the headboard, knees pulled up. Then, slowly-- every so slowly-- she spread her legs.
He raised the camera.
SNAP! FLASH!
That one was getting framed.
Michael lowered the camera, and gazed at her. She hadn't moved, and her smile had changed-- from wily to come-hither. He was suddenly all too aware of his painfully hard erection.
"Are you just gonna stand there?" she asked, jolting him from his thoughts. "Or are you gonna get over her and do me like I need?"
He grinned. "I thought I said no talking. You seem to keep forgetting that."
Maria leaned forward a little. "Or maybe I just like the response I get," she answered, winking.
Well, that tore it. She was lying there, completely open, one-hundred percent his, and offering herself to his control one last time. So what the hell was he doing this far away from her?
Letting the camera slip from his fingers-- it landed with a muffled THUD on the threadbare rug-- he scrambled onto the bed and crawled up between her legs, his lips finding hers in a crushing kiss.
She moaned, and her tongue pushed its way between his lips. He accepted it willingly, and thrust his own tongue into her mouth, even as his fingers parted her lower lips and he readied himself at her entrance.
Dragging himself away from the mind-blowing kiss, he panted, "Now it's MY turn."
She nodded eagerly, spreading her legs even wider in anticipation.
God, what had he done right to deserve her?
**********
He filled her in one stroke, and Maria almost came immediately.
"Oh, yes, baby!" she moaned as their bodies began to move in tandem. "Yes!"
She wanted to wrap her arms around him and dig her nails into the toned muscles of his back; but her wrists were still tied, and she could do nothing but ball her hands into fists and flex them with each thrust.
"Right..right THERE!" she shrieked as he stroked perfectly against her G-spot. "Oh, God, don't move! Keep...right...Oh, yes! YES!"
Michael leaned in to run his tongue over her lips. "Wait for me, baby," he panted.
She tried to suck his tongue into her mouth, but he pulled away. "I"m still in charge, remember?" he said, and she groaned in frustration.
His strokes were growing in intensity, slamming her back against the headboard. Maria braced herself as wave after wave of pleasure began to course through her body. She could feel them beginning to crest. Damn, she wanted her hands! Her climax was approaching-- it was almost there.
"Not yet."
Her eyes snapped open. "Wha..whaaaaaaAAAAAHHHHH!" she cried, her question trailing off into a lusty scream.
He shook his head, and tiny droplets of sweat flew from his hair. "Not...yet..." he repeated. "Don't...don't cum yet. Not...till I tell...you..."
He couldn't be serious. It was building! She could feel it in her abdomen, already swirling and hot and ready to explode! How the fuck was she supposed to hold it in?
"You promised me...anything..."
She let her head fall back against the pillows; somehow she'd ended up on her back again, her arms stretched out above her. "Pleeeeeaaasse!" she wailed. "Oh, God, PLEASE, MICHAEL!! NOW!"
*******
Michael watched her struggle with her body, saw the conflicting emotions and sensations that criss-crossed her face. She was a living mosaic, frozen in pre-orgasmic frenzy.
"You're...so beautiful," he gasped against her wet skin. "So beautiful like this!"
"M—Michael!" she cried. "C...Can't!"
"Not yet," he told her. "Not...yet...."
She wailed again, then began begging in her most persuasive voice, over and over; begging him to please, please let it happen, please!
He felt his own climax approaching, and he sped up, careful to continue brushing against her internal G-spot, making her shriek with each thrust.
"Beg me more, Maria," he gasped. "More! Plead for it!"
"PLEASE!" she screamed. "PLEASE, HOLY SHIT, I...I HAVE TO... PLEASE, MICHAEL!"
She was rocking wildly beneath him, her hips crashing into his frantically.
He couldn't hold out any longer. Three more thrusts, maximum. He marvelled at her strength.
"Please...WHAT?" he asked, his voice rising as his body tightened.
"LET ME CUM!"
"NOW!" he bellowed, and covered her mouth with his own in anticipation of her scream.
It was a good thing he did, or his neighbors might have had him thrown out for disturbing the peace. Maria screamed so loud into his mouth, it shook his teeth and tremored down his spine. Her sheath locked around him, holding him within her, which was just fine with him, because his own climax hit in unison with hers, and he didn't want to be let go.
Eventually, her scream trailed off, and he released her lips. She flopped back against the pillows, sobbing, but not with grief.
"Oh...Oh, God...Oh, yes..." she gasped, her head tilting to the side. "Yes...thank you, thank you, thank you..."
Michael gazed down at her for a few seconds longer, feeling her body still tremble around him; absorbing what she looked like here in this moment. Perfection was almost impossible to duplicate. He wanted to remember every detail.
Eventually, he leaned forward, and placed a soft, feather-light kiss on her swollen lips.
"You're welcome," he whispered.
*******
It took a long time for their tremors to ease enough for Michael to loosen the knots he'd used to secure her wrists to the headboard. Maria's arms immediately curled around him, before he could even remove the rope, and she held herself tight against his chest as they wound themselves together.
"Holy shit," she murmured, her voice quivering almost as much as her limbs. "I've gotta ignore my homework more often."
"Yeah," Michael said. "Yeah, you do."
Maria looked up into his face, and managed a tremulous grin. "You're one to talk, Mr. I've-Never-Seen-Homeroom Guerin," she observed.
He shrugged. "Hey, you're not the only one here who deserves a little punishment!"
Maria considered that for a moment, grinned wickedly, and said, "Hey Michael?"
"Yeah?"
"You got anymore film for that camera?"
THE END