The Enthralling Games We Play (might Be a Bit...)

"I gave her our numbers."

He leaned back against the kitchen counter, watching me rub the herb mixture onto the raw chicken breasts; distant sharp cheers coming from the television in the living room. Less than forty-eight hours ago, we met the topic of our current discussion at our favorite wine bar during one of our nights out, the three of us deciding to continue our fun at a nearby hotel. Sadly, after a nice wakeup call and delicious breakfast, I fell back asleep only to miss her before I could say goodbye or get her name.

"Why would you do that?" I asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It didn't stop the giddy feeling or the small smile that creeped into the corner of my mouth.

"What do you mean why? You wanted to see her again, didn't you?"

I did. I really shouldn't, but I did. "I don't know, is it ok to see her again?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" He asked the question so nonchalant as if it was the most natural thing in the world and I was the weird one for thinking it wasn't. Why did I think it was weird?

"We normally don't. We meet someone, have some fun and never see them again. What's so different about her?"

"We both liked her a lot." His fingers ran up and down my upper arm as I passed him, washing my hands in the nearby sink. "Plus, we all had fun."

I scoffed; a small grin on my face when I leaned in to quickly kiss him. "You just liked her tongue piercing,"

His laughter rang through me when he turned and pulled me into him. A light, mild breeze blew through the open windows; the start of a perfect autumn Sunday evening with delicious food, drinks and him. "I mean you're not wrong and so did you."

"Touché. Go on."

Nodding his head with a smug smile, he continued on while I playfully rolled my eyes. "She also seemed like a person we would both get along with on more than just a sexual level. We did have some great conversations."

"Seriously, are you ok with this?" I said with a sigh, knowing everything he said was true and how he wasn't harboring any resentment. Which is why it hurt more to hear him say it.

"Yes, I want to see you happy." He grabbed my face in his hands and slowly kissed me. This was what I was afraid of.

"You don't have to compromise for my need to be with women. No matter what happens, I never want to mess up what we have. I mean it when I say no one will ever..."

"I know, sweetheart. As long as we communicate and we're both open, honest and trusting with each other and to ourselves, then it will work out."

The few people I've had relationships with where I felt comfortable enough to share this side of me, didn't want to understand. The relationship slowly deteriorated into a build up of mistrust and unsaid contempt until it finally fizzled out with each of us going our separate ways. In a bit of a daze, I felt my head nod in agreement, knowing now why it didn't work with the others.

In my heart...I wanted this one to work out.

"Unfortunately, she lives about two hours away but does frequent here for business. After what happened in the morning, we both woke up before you did and started talking about everything that happened. She wants to see both of us again and has no intentions of ever coming between us, so I gave her our numbers and told her to call whenever she's back in town."

A particularly loud boo came from the living room as I moved out of his arms and backed against the island. My mind wandered off to that night and all the things that went on, shivering at the memories. Her reaction to the note, the adorable shyness which turned into such a quiet seductiveness. His long groans as he...

"You're drifting off again. Are you thinking about her?" The soft whisper against my ear startled me; subtle shocks turned to flames lapping my insides as they pooled low in my stomach.

"I'm thinking of her laying on that huge desk. I couldn't take my eyes of the way her breasts bounced as you held onto her hips and fucked her." I said in a mumble, eyes focused on the table neatly set for two.

Fuck, that groan. He nipped my earlobe and moved behind me, running his hands up and down my sides. "Her moans were so hot, weren't they?"

"Yes," I said with a sigh. My head fell to the side and I felt his lips drag along the column of my neck. "I can still hear them."

"Have you thought about her when you play with yourself?" He asked with a small bite to the tender skin at the base of my neck.

"Sometimes."

"You're such a naughty little girl, aren't you? Getting off to thoughts of another girl, I wonder what she would say?"

"I couldn't help it," I said, whimpers spilling out with the silken flow of each word.

His arms wrapped around me, wishing for more but only received the slightest teasing touches to the sliver of skin at the waistband of my pajama shorts. "Tell me what you think about." His soft whispers were literally going to be the death of me.

"Kissing her. Eating her out."

"Your moans sounded so good together. Do you think of her eating you out again? That piercing grazing your swollen clit as you..."

"Please."

"Please what, sweetheart?"

"I'm not the only one that thinks about her," I said, turning around with a small smirk curled on my lips. "What about you? There's no way you've gone the last day and a half without thinking of her sucking you off. Her lips sliding down your cock, head bobbing up and down and hand slowly stroking the base just like you like it."

Eyes of determination and lust stared back at me as his hands slid down to my ass. "Did you like the show from over on the chair? If I recall, your hand had a nice time between your legs. Confess, how many times did you cum?"

"You know of at least one since your eyes met mine. Might've lost count on the rest."

"Such a tease," he said, a small chuckle turned into a low grunt from the slow drag of my nails over his strained bulge. "Take it out."

The thought ran through my mind as I continued my teasing, fingers playing with the waistband of his casual navy blue shorts. "Should I? You've been just as naughty as I have."

The high-pitched ding of the oven timer went off; a reminder that the oven was ready and I was in the middle of making dinner. But honestly, I couldn't care less about anything at the moment, especially when those dark eyes I love so much pleaded with me to continue.

And, of course, my insane desire to win this battle of playful banters.

"Did she feel good?" I asked, undoing his shorts and sliding my hand inside, grinning at the slowly fading pained expression when my hand wrapped around his hard cock.

"Not as good as you," he groaned out.

"Didn't ask that. Did she feel good?"

Eyes hooded with his head against the white wood cabinet, It was a struggle to hold back the violent, pent-up shiver when his stare focused solely on me. "She did."

"I bet it did with how loud the desk creaked," I said more to myself, the rough metal of his zipper scraping against my clenched fist the faster I stroked him. A group of laughing male voices from what I only assumed was the halftime show came from the television, wishing I had turned it off before I pulled the rough moans from him with each slow stroke. Have to remember that for next time.

"Tighter."

"Feels good, baby?"

"Yes," he said in a low groan. His hand slid off the counter and grabbed my breast, kneading and leisurely circling his thumb over the hard nipple. "Your hand feels so good."

My lips caressed the shell of his ear. "I want you to cum in my mouth," I whispered, my thumb circling over the tip, feeling the small beads of precum coating the swollen head. "Tell me when you're ready to cum. Ok, baby?"

"Fuck yes, just...keep going faster. Wait, keep stroking. Don't stop." He slid his shorts down a little more and a slight gasp left his mouth.

I giggled, loving the flustered way I made him feel, especially since it's so far and few between that I ever saw him like this. Wanting to continue the fun, sweet torture I was inflicting on him, I lifted my top up and revealed my breasts to his glazed over eyes. "You know what else I think of when I play with myself?"

The slight hum turned long moan when my other hand caressed his heavy balls; a warm ribbon of precum dripped down my hand, aiding my quickened strokes.

"I think of kneeling down and blowing you, your hand grabbing my hair and controlling my every movement, pleasing you long and slow until you cum deep down my throat. It's hard to remember how many times that image has pushed me over the edge."

Words formed on the tip of his tongue were swallowed back in favor of ragged groans when I collected a bit of the thick liquid onto my finger, my nail scraping over the sensitive skin. A slow lick, a soft suck and a small smile were all I needed to feel the sting on my scalp as his lips met mine. Tongues unhurried in their strokes savored the mix of our flavors, moans mingled between our mouths both for different reasons—mine from his fingers tightening in the mess of my hair and his from my faster strokes over his cock.

"You taste so good, baby," I said with a moan against his lips. "I want more."

The rough strain in his voice flashed fantasies through my mind, goading me on with thoughts of how far I could push him before he broke; if he even did. I would make sure that happened. "Keep it up, sweetheart."

"What?" I tried my best to act all innocent, but couldn't help the giggle that came out of my mouth. Mesmerized by his constricting muscles glistened with sweat as he pulled off the white t-shirt, his hair disheveled in that perfect 'bed hair' which definitely did not help with the tempting thoughts inside my head. "I'm only trying to help."

"I love the way you're helping, but I will give it back to you. You know that, right?"

Smiling, my other hand moved back to play with his balls, stroking faster when his head leaned back against the cabinet. "Always look forward to that."

His moans grew louder and more ragged, interspersed with the occasional low growl as hips thrusted into my hand and signaled to me how close he was. The evening sun was sadly disappeared as time went on, but casted the most beautiful pinkish-red glow as it started to set. There was an excited part of me that wanted, after all this time, to bring him to that point and see what he would do if I stopped.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he said, a hand threading into my hair while the other one took the place of mine as I quickly sat down on my knees.

Maybe for another time.

I licked my lips, the languid roll of my voice and tongue slipping out of my mouth had him groaning with every hard stroke. "Baby, I've been dying to taste you. Coat my pretty mouth with your cum."

His loud, frustrated moan had me squirming, feeling the wetness between my legs and the cold tile against my bare knees. "Next time," he started, biting back another moan. "I'm going to gently slide my fingers into your hair, grab onto it and fuck that pretty mouth of yours until you are practically begging for me to cum deep down your tight little throat."

Holy fuck. "I'll add that to my memory for the next time," I said, my fingers teasing over my hardened nipple.

One long groan and the splatter of hot cum squirted over my tongue and inside my mouth, feeling a bit drip down onto my chest. I waited patiently for the last few ribbons of cum to coat over my swollen lips before swallowing down every last drop, making sure to get the bit that had dripped down. His heavy breathing slowed after a few minutes, but his groans continued as my mouth slid down his cock, sucking every last drop before trailing my tongue over the sensitive skin. Just to be sure, of course. "Get up and lay on the counter."

Shivers played through my body; the small grin curled his lips at knowing full well what he does to me. As I backed up to the island, I took his hand and sucked off the residual cum with a knowing look that told him I knew how much I affected him. We were made for each other.

My back hit the cool granite, hair cascading off the island's edge as my shorts and panties were pulled down my quivering legs. Sugary sweet chocolate frosting tickled my nose; the quick burst of wind spreading the light, mouthwatering scent of the cooling cake from the nearby counter, but paled in comparison to the aroused scent of him that surrounded me. Much more delicious than any dessert could ever be.

"Shit, you're dripping wet."

"It's all because of you. Don't you want to just slide in, baby?"

I almost cried out when two fingers plunged deep inside me, whimpering when the slow, tortured thrusts barely scratched what he could only itch. "I'd much rather see how wet I can make you with the combination of just my voice and my hand. Since you like games so much, sweetheart, how about every time you move I stop everything. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

A slight curve and soft flick of his finger had me convulsing into a heap on the counter, pleasure rolling through my body, trying to form some sort of coherent phrase to chew him out. "Fucking cheater," I said, whimpering again when he pulled his fingers out.

Dark hooded eyes stared down at me, savoring my taste and watching as I tried to catch my breath, wanting to yell at him for the laugh he was desperately holding back. "Don't dish it out unless you can take it, sweetheart."

Closing my eyes, I laid my head back down and tried to calm myself, waiting with bated breath for what he had planned.

Glad I kind of had a craving for some takeout tonight.