Sexy Briefs: Tasty Little Tails

Fair Play by Jayme Whitfield

“His name was Elvis”, she said, arching her back like a cat as she straddled the cold plastic chair, her head resting on her folded arms, eyes closed, hair falling in a tangled mass of curls.

“Elvis?”

She could feel his eyes on her, on her breasts, exactly where she’d wanted them. She rolled her shoulders and stole a furtive glance at him, watching as he licked his lips. Nervous tension seeped off him in waves. It gave her a thrill, knowing she was the cause of it. She’d never felt more alive. She drank in the tiny details of the moment, every intake of breath, every twitch of his fingers against the taut denim covering his thigh. She was intentionally making him sweat and it felt good. Her own desire was fueled by his, by the power of knowing she could have this affect on man so much older, so much more experienced. He was pushing forty; she was celebrating her twentieth birthday.

They’d escaped the noisy party, finding a quiet bedroom where they could talk, though she’d known what his expectations were as she’d grabbed his hand and led him down the hall. Now they were talking about first times. Talking instead of having the much-anticipated sex or doing the smart thing and sleeping off the alcohol they’d consumed so much of earlier.

“Yes,” Ashley sat up and spun in her seat, sliding her ass towards the back of the chair. Leaning in conspiratorially, she whispered to him.

“It’s a stupid name. I didn’t believe him at first, when he told me, I mean. But it was on his license. I looked.” She lifted her cigarette, carefully pursing her lips as they clasped the filter, gently inhaling before blowing the smoke out in rings that hung in the stale air.

“When?” Greg shifted on the bed, his erection obvious.

Ashley let out a short laugh, as much at him as the question, crushing the cigarette into an overflowing ashtray.

“Later. After.” Antsy, she stood, pacing from the grimy window to the pock-marked door, her eyes closed, swaying slightly to the rock music pouring out of the radio. He watched her in silence for awhile. He was still as he watched her and she wondered if he’d finally found his control. The quiet was heavy in the room, weighing on her, caging her.

“I didn’t mean when did you look. I meant when did it happen.” His voice was tightly controlled, but she was thankful he’d finally broken the silence.

She smiled and licked her lips. “A few years ago.”

She waited for him to speak, to ask another question, but he didn’t. He just watched her as she paced. She could feel the control slipping away from her. She needed action, needed to feel alive. Reaching up, arms at an odd angle, she slid her hands behind her back and up beneath the hem of her shirt.

“You don’t mind, do you? Uncomfortable shit. Hate wearing it.”Ashley knew he didn’t mind, knew he wouldn’t answer as she slipped her bra out of her sleeve, tossing it onto the floor between them. Her nipples weren’t hard, but she knew the watery light was strong enough to show them off through the thin white t-shirt she wore.

“What was it like?” Greg’s hand was steady as he reached for his beer. She felt a shiver move through her as he took a swig out of the bottle, his gaze never leaving her. He was studying her with a look she hadn’t seen before, didn’t recognize. His edginess was gone, something else in its place-something dangerous.

“What do you mean?” She knew what he wanted to hear, but wasn’t planning to give it up so easily. Walking to the window, she twitched the curtain to the side, staring out at the moon.

He was behind her before she knew it, his hand fisting her hair, pulling her head back. His voice was raw in her ear, harsh, like salt in a wound. Fear tinged with excitement twisted in her belly, a snake coiling around the arousal that had been building.

“I’m not some prepubescent prick you can tease, Ashley.” His breath was hot on her neck, his whiskers scratching her cheek. Her breath caught in her throat as he spoke again.

“Did you come here to toy with me? If you want to play games, that’s fine, but understand this-I make the rules.”

“No, I…” Ashley’s words trailed off. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes, not sure what to say. She had been playing. He was just a game, a way to pass the time, escape the boredom, feel alive. Her thoughts flashed by, rolling through her head like the reels of a slot machine. The deep conversations she’d had with Greg online, the surprise birthday party the group of Internet friends had thrown her, how lonely she’d been over the past year. All the moments leading up to this seemed to swim through her mind.

She wasn’t the only one crashing at Greg’s place, not the only girl. They’d drawn straws to see who would stay with him, his dark eyes, quiet attentiveness and rough manners a turn on for them all.

Fuck, she thought. I’m in over my head.

It seemed like hours passed as they stood there, his body pressed against her from behind, his cock hard against her ass, her pulse pounding in the silence like a base drum. She remained still as she waited for whatever would come next. Without warning, he spun her around, kissing her roughly before shoving her gently toward the door.

“You’re nothing but a tease, Ashley. Go on. Get out of my room before I really do lose control.”

She was shaking now, her nerves frayed into live wires, her breathing shallow and rapid. She looked around, eyes searching for her bra, unable to remember where she’d left it. Greg pointed at it on the floor, then held the door open, waiting for her to leave. She took a step towards escape, then stopped, her gaze searching his as she wondered if it would be safe to pass so close to him. He was fire, and everyone knew you didn’t play with fire, but something was coming to life inside her, something that her kept her from walking out of his room. She wanted him, but did she want him on his terms or hers?

She never should have hesitated. He took a step forward, shutting the door. Ashley’s heart pounded as the lock clicked into place.

Greg’s voice was low as he moved closer to her. “Do you have any idea how selfish you’ve been tonight, Ash? You don’t even know what you want, do you?”

She screwed her eyes shut, closing them so tightly that she saw flashes of brilliant lights against the darkness. Shaking her head, she took a step backwards. It was his laughter ringing through the room this time, her nervousness oozing between them. He’d taken the control and she had no idea how to get it back.

“Your problem is that you’re an amateur; a little girl playing dress up in mommy’s high heels. You know what happens to naughty little girls when they get caught?” He was touching her now, his fingers dancing over her skin, tilting her chin up, forcing her to look at him.

“What?” she wasn’t sure she’d said it out loud, thought maybe it was just in her head, but his expression changed, turned predatory.

“They get punished,” he whispered, his face inches from hers, his hands slowly lifting off her shirt. She was frozen, a doe waiting for her slaughter, caught in the cross-hairs of the hunter’s scope. His fingers were rough from years of physical labor, scarred and thick, crushing her breasts, pinching the treacherous nipples cruelly. He smiled when they responded to the treatment.

“You like that, huh? Maybe you aren’t such a tease after all. Maybe you’ve just been testing your limits, pushing. Maybe you’ve been looking for a man strong enough to rein you in.” His mouth was hot on her skin as he lapped at her breasts. He stood back and shoved her skirt into a pool around her feet. He knelt in front of her and she felt her knees go weak as he pushed her legs apart, his fingers sliding along the silk of her panties.

“Look at that,” he murmured into her stomach. “Wet as Niagara Falls, ready for me to fuck. At least you got that part right.”

Tugging her panties down, he slipped a finger inside her, his thumb finding her clit. There was no gentle caress, no tender touch, only white hot desire as he began to thrust and rub and pinch.

She didn’t resist him, didn’t fight because she couldn’t. Some part of her had snapped, broken at his words. She drifted through the hole, lost in a dark place inside her head, needing, wanting, afraid. He worked his fingers faster and faster, matching pace with the need building inside her until she began to move her hips, hoping to draw him in deeper. The sensations were building, sending her toward release. Her hands slid into his hair, curling into fists as she held onto him. When he leaned forward and his wet tongue slid against her clit, it pushed her over the edge. She cried out as her orgasm ripped through her.

Greg remained in place until her breathing returned to normal, but she felt a sense of loss when he pulled his away, the heat removed, the need still there. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. When she finally opened her eyes, it was in time to see him toss her clothes at her.

“Get dressed and get out.”

He sat back down on the bed, drinking his beer as he watched her. He lit a cigarette, so calm. She was lost, adrift in a sea of confusion, unable to go back through the crack in her life he’d just opened. She knew then what had to happen; what she had to do. She accepted that her actions were her own as she gave control of her destiny to the side of herself she didn’t want to acknowledge.

She knelt before him, looking up at him from between his knees.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Please, what?”

“Please, Greg…”

He nodded and pulled her onto his lap.