The Wolf with the Red Roses

I wonder how Lulu is doing with her blowjob for a moment and want to giggle. Instead, I draw my mouth back, sucking on Craig as my lips slid up his cock to just below the glans, swirl my tongue over him, enjoying the way his hips quiver, his hand tightens in my hair.

Absolutely, I know what Craig wants to do. He wants to fuck my mouth. I like it when he does that, I like his excitement, I like his cock. One of my hands cups his balls. I fondle them gently as I work my mouth and tongue on his length, swirling the tip of my tongue along the ridged glans as I come up, knowing he enjoys that. I'm giving Craig pleasure and I enjoy that.

I'm also enjoying the knowledge that I'll be giving Andrew pleasure later tonight as well but that doesn't stop me wanting to give Craig a good blowjob right now. I feel wicked and sexy and excited and naughty and a little scared at what might happen later with Andrew. I mean, Andrew told me he wanted to fuck me. I told him yes.

"Jesus, Regan," Craig gasps, "suck my cock, suck me off, baby.... Suck me off..."

His hips are jerking now, he's thrusting his cock into my mouth, both hands holding my head and I know he's close and I welcome his eager plunges between my lips, into my mouth.

"Suck it, Regan. Suck it." Craig's voice is louder. His hips are jerking and I know he's so close. Across the room I can hear Lulu slurping noisily and I know Harry is close too.

"Uggghhhhh .... Uuughhhh ....uuughhh....." Harry grunts.

"Mmmppphhhh." Lulu makes a funny noise. I can hear her sucking and swallowing. She's gulping down Harry's cum and Craig turns his head to watch them and he groans and then it's my turn.

"Fuck," Craig grunts, "fuck." His hands hold my head tight, his cock pushes in, he's playing tonsil hockey with his cock and my throat and it's definitely a goal as his cum spurts down my throat. I gulp and gulp and gulp, not quite choking as his cock throbs hotly in my mouth. I'm used to this now. Swallowing. Tasting him as he floods my mouth. Salty, astringent and a little acrid. I like that taste now.

"Nnnnuuughhhhh." A long sigh, a last trickle in my mouth and he's finished, his hands release their grip on me. I lift my head, gasping for air. Lift myself up a little, lick my lips, swallowing as his cock pops from my mouth. The last thing I want now is cum in my hair.

"You guys done?" Harry is laughing.

"Harry." Lulu squeals quietly. I hear her hit him. I hear his laugh.

I lick my lips. "Yeah, we're done, Harry. Come on, we better get some sleep, Lu. Goodnight Craig." I don't kiss him. He doesn't like me to kiss him after he's cum in my mouth. I've told him it's his cum, he shouldn't mind but he doesn't agree. Oh well. Guys.

"Goodnight, Regan." His hand strokes my head. I slide off the bed. Harry is kissing Lulu. He doesn't seem to mind that he's cum in Lulu's mouth. Lulu doesn't seem to mind that Craig and I can both see her boobs as she picks her pajama top up off the floor. Guess she's not as shy as she used to be. Time to sleep. For a while anyhow. Until Andrew comes to my bed. If he does. Lulu and I both head for the bathroom. I want to clean my teeth and wash my mouth out. I'm making sure my mouth tastes of toothpaste and mouthwash when Andrew joins me, not cum. If he does visit me in my bed, the last thing I want is for him to kiss me in the middle of the night and taste Craig's cum on my lips and in my mouth. Lulu is still licking her lips but she does clean her teeth as well. "Well that was fun, wasn't it," I say, giggling.

"Uhhhh," she blushes. She sounds flustered.

"Lights out." I'm smiling.

"Okay," she says. Within a couple of minutes she's fast asleep. I can hear her breathing.

I'm not asleep. I'm too nervous. Wired. I lie there with my heart pounding. Waiting. I give it a few more minutes before I climb out of bed. I make sure the door connecting our bedroom to the bathroom is securely locked. I pack two towels along the bottom to block the gap at the bottom of the door. Only then do I open the door into the hallway slightly. Lulu is a very sound sleeper. Once she's out, it takes a lot to wake her up so I'm not worried about her at all. I'm counting on that as I stand beside my bed and take my pajamas off.

The bondage top is right where I placed it. I slide it on, adjust the straps. Fasten them behind me. The leather straps are cool on my skin. Now that this is all I'm wearing, I'm far more aware of those straps than I was before. Where did Lulu get it from? Wearing this and nothing else, I somehow feel even more exposed than I would if I was completely naked. After a moment's thought, I find the black and silver choker I'd been wearing and fasten that around my neck. Andrew didn't ask me to wear it, but somehow I think he'll like the addition. I'm ready the way he wanted me when I climb back into my bed.

My fingers trace the leather straps that fit me tightly. Tightly, but not uncomfortably. There's a ring at the center, just between and below my breasts. Straps run beneath my breasts and then all the way around my back. Straps on each side outline my boobs in a triangular frame, joined by a ring above each boob to another strap that runs over my shoulders, just like a bra.

There's another ring below my throat, with a strap running straight down to the one at the base of my boobs, while two more straps angle across to join the shoulder straps above my boobs. There are three straps across the back and there's a couple more that run up my sides almost to my armpits. It's complicated. I'm lying there trembling as I explore those straps, wondering what I look like wearing nothing but this. I'm excited. Wet. Hot. I want to touch myself so badly but I don't. I'm saving that for Andrew. Anticipating his touching me there. It's so hard not too though.

The bondage top thing makes me feel, I don't know, all sorts of things. Sexy. Shameless. Obscene? Dirty? Wildly excited. What do I look like wearing only this? I try to picture myself as I look to Andrew and it's exciting. I mean, I've tried it on at home. I know what I look like to me, but what about to Andrew? He must like it, otherwise he wouldn't want me to wear it. Under the duvet, I spread my legs wide apart, draw my knees up. It's so hard not to touch myself as I remember what Andrew did to me in his office. My nipple that he squeezed so hard is still sore.

My sex remembers his finger and I'm wet. I remember his cock in my hand and my heart pounds the way it did when I held him. Is he really going to come? I remember the intensity of that look on his face when he said to me that he wanted to fuck me and I shiver. He wants to do that to me in this room that I'm sharing with Lulu? With my boyfriend and his son the bedroom next to us? With wife asleep in their bedroom at the other end of the hallway? I'm scared, but still, I hope that he comes to me.

I close my eyes, drifting off to sleep despite my nervous excitement. I wake up with a jolt when the door into the hallway begins to ease open. I glance at the bedside clock. It's three a.m. It's silent, maybe it's the air movement that wakes me? The door is wide open, I see a shape in the darkness backlit by the hallway nightlight. It could be anybody. I can't tell. Maybe it's Craig? I hope not. My heart pounds as the shape enters, the door closes, snicks shut very quietly. The lock clicks. If I wasn't listening for it, I wouldn't have heard a thing.

The shape comes towards me, silently. Closer still. He sinks to his knees beside the bed. A hand strokes my face. I can now see that it's Andrew. I can smell him now as well as see him. His scent is different from Craig's and now he's a little sweaty. He smells of Pamela now too. There's still a hint of Armagnac. I remember how it tasted on his finger.

His mouth is close to my ear, his voice whispers. "Regan? Are you awake?"

"Yes," I whisper back. I'm so nervous. Trembling. Nervous. Scared. Excited. Terrified. Now that he's here I don't know what to do. I'd left the bedroom door open. It has a lock. I hadn't locked it. I could have but I didn't. And now he's here, in the guest bedroom, with me. I'm scared. What if he does things to me and I can't help myself making noises? What if we wake anyone up? I have no idea what to do. I'm breathing hard, my heart is pounding wildly. I'm so wet.

"Do you remember what I said earlier, Regan?" Andrew whispers in my ear. "About what you should wear? About what I want from you?"

"Yes," I whisper back. My heart is beating beating beating. I turn my face towards him, breath in. the scent of his sweat and there's definitely a scent of Pamela on his skin. Has he made love to her before he came to me? I'm not jealous at all, she's his wife and after all, I've just given Craig a blowjob but I'd like to know. It's exciting to think that he's left Pamela in their bed and come to me. That he wants me that much. That he's taking a huge risk because he wants me. I want to moan with excitement now and he hasn't even touched me. He's not even in bed with me and I'm on fire, I'm burning. I'm wet and I'm ready for him and he hasn't even touched me yet.

"Everything I said?" Andrew whispers. He doesn't wait for an answer. His hand leaves my face, slides under the duvet, over my shoulder, my arm, down to my waist. I'm naked but for that bondage top I'm wearing for him. His hand slides all the way down over my hip, confirming that I've done exactly as he asked before moving back up to cup one of my breasts. He's touched my breast before, during the party. His hand had slipped inside my top, cupped my breast, his skin hot on mine. Exciting. Now I'm hot and with no clothing intervening, it's so easy for his hand to cup my breast.

His touch is fire on my skin. My nipples are swollen hard, aching and rubbery. He toys with one, touching it, teasing my nipple with his fingers, holding it lightly between finger and thumb. I suck in my breath, bite my bottom lip, stopping myself from moaning out loud as that aching engorgement becomes almost painful. There's an almost silent chuckle against my ear. He knows what he's doing to me. He lifts the duvet, his head slips beneath it. His mouth replaces his fingers on my nipple, my breast. His tongue wetly slides across my skin. His hand slides downwards.

I lie on my back, unmoving, feeling his hand running slowly over me. Under the duvet I'm naked. I'm exposed. I've done as he wanted me to. I've removed my clothing, I'm wearing nothing but these little strips of black leather. I'm naked and I'm available for his hand to explore. He explores. I lie there, on my back, motionless, breathing hard as he touches me. My fingers clutch nervously at the sheets on either side of my body as his mouth engulfs first one breast, then the other.

His mouth and lips and tongue assuage that painful swelling at least temporarily. While his mouth runs over me, he takes full advantage of my near nakedness. One roams gently over my stomach, my waist, my stomach again. My skin tingles, glows, burns at his touch. I'm swollen and wet for him. Still; I haven't answered his question. I've forgotten about it.

He repeats it, his whisper muffled by the duvet. "Everything I said, Regan?"

I close my eyes. My heart pounds. I remember what he said? Do I want this? He's as old as my Dad. Older maybe. Am I really going to do this? My first time. Do I want it to be with him? A flood of wet heat inside me, a throbbing need to surrender myself is my body's answer. I may be scared, timid and uncertain. My body isn't. My knees fall a little apart as his hand slides over my inner thigh. I'm limp now, there's no tautness in me. No resistance. His hand is high on my inner thigh, caressing and stroking, almost touching me where I want his touch so much. He has my hips twitching.

"Yes," I whisper. My heart swells, choking me. I can see his smile. "Everything."

"Can I slide in bed with you?" he whispers.

My heart pounds wildly. Drumming. I swallow. "Okay," I whisper in reply.

I'm suddenly aware that he's wearing very little as he eases himself up onto the bed and under the duvet next to me. I can feel him against me. His body. His skin. No top, just loose cotton boxers. He's hard. I can feel how big and hard when he presses against me right where he's lying propped up on his elbow looking down at me. It's not like I'm unfamiliar with a hard cock. I had Craig's in my mouth only an hour ago. I had Andrew's cock in my hand three hours ago.

Andrew's cock isn't in my hand now. It's pressing against my thigh. Hot and hard. Big. I can feel his balls against me as well. I'm next to naked. All that separates us is one thin layer of cotton, a hindrance that I wish would vanish. I'm so very wet now. Wetter than I was earlier and that wetness is slick on my inner thighs. I'm melting and it's just him and me and the soundly sleeping Lulu in the other bed. He says nothing. His hand is back on my breast now, caressing me there.

"They're small," I whisper, looking up at his face. I hope he's not disappointed. They're very small and very firm and I like them. I think they're a lot prettier than those big boobs my classmates are over-endowed with. But guys don't always share that preference. Most guys I know like big boobs. Andrew's wife is blonde and a lot taller than I am. She's far curvier but still in good shape for someone in her forties. Her breasts are large and full and they bounce. Mine are small and firm and really, I don't even need a bra. The best my boobs will do is quiver slightly. I've always wanted bigger boobs but short of a silicone implants, it isn't going to happen.

"They're gorgeous," Andrew whispers, sounding like he means it. I hope he does and he's certainly interested in them. I arch my back as his mouth finds them again. He's greedy now, his mouth is moving from one to the other and back again, sucking at my nipples, taking my entire breast into his mouth, lapping and licking, coating my skin with his saliva.

I turn just a little; slide my hand into his boxers. My searching fingers find his cock. Clasp it with my fingers. It's a little sticky. Like Craig's after I've given him a blowjob and he's cum. Did Andrew? With Pamela? I wonder, but I'm not jealous. I'm curious.

"I love your nipples, Regan," he breathes. He must, he's giving them lots of attention. I wonder if he'll pinch them again. That hurt when he did that. My shiver is a mix of trepidation, fear and excitement.

"What's wrong?" he whispers, his mouth lifting from my boob. He's looking down at me, his hand toying with the nipple he wasn't kissing, his thumb sliding over my nipple, backwards and forwards, sending little shocks of pleasure all the way down to where I'm so wet and ready for him to touch me.

"It hurt me, before," I shiver. "Before, when you squeezed them."

"Did you like it then," he whispers in my ear. His cock twitches under my fingers. I stroke him gently, without thinking, savoring his hard length in my clasp.

"Yes," I say, without thinking. I did, then. Now though, now I'm not sure.

"When I do that to you again, you'll enjoy it, I promise," he breathes. "I'll only do that to you again when you say I can, Regan. Is that okay?"

"Yes," I whisper. I'm still shivering, but now I think it's with excitement.

He smiles. His lips brush mine, pull away when I try to kiss him back. "Now, there's something I need to do." He frees his cock from my hand, moves, lifts, pushes. He's taking his boxers off, dropping them on the floor beside the bed. He's naked in bed with me, his cock freed, resting hugely on my thigh. I can feel his balls against my thigh as well, where he lies on his side, propped up on one elbow, looking down at me. He's naked in bed with me and the duvet has worked its way down to our waists.

"God, Regan," he breathes. "You're even more beautiful than I remember." His fingers trace the straps of that bondage top I'm wearing, brushing across my skin. "I love this, Regan, it suits you." He traces the choker around my neck. He smiles. "You look perfect like this."

"I do?" The way he's looking at me, I know for sure he thinks so. He's not just being polite or nice or anything. He really does. I lie there looking up at him, nestled in against his body. I'm so small and delicate compared to him. He's six feet tall, one eighty pounds, he's fit and strong. I weigh one ten soaking wet, I'm five foot two, and I'm slender and tiny compared to him. He's not a boy like Craig or Harry. Andrew is a man. A real man who wants me. He wants me the way a man wants a woman and I can feel his cock on my leg, big and hard. Rampantly hard. Hard for me.

"You're beautiful, Regan," he says again.

I swallow nervously. "You haven't seen all of me yet," I whisper.

There's a long moment where my heart seems to stop before I take all my courage in my hands and do what I've been wanting to do. I swallow and tug the duvet off both of us, push it to the side of the bed behind me, against the wall. I'm naked on the white sheet beneath me. Naked but for that little black leather harness and my choker and its light enough that he can see me.

He can see all of me and I watch his face as his eyes roam over my body. He's drinking me in and my skin is burning, I'm on fire with a strange mix of embarrassment and excitement and I'm so wet and my nipples are so painfully hard again. So hard and swollen that they're hurting me, they're standing up begging for his touch, begging for his fingers to assuage the aching fullness I feel.

I look up at him and, very slowly, my eyes watching his face, I move the leg furthest from him sideways, parting my thighs, raising my knee, drawing my foot up the bed, displaying myself to him. As he looks at me there my hand finds his cock. I don't stroke him. All I do is hold him, feel his silky rigidity. It is a little sticky. He's looking at me there. I feel myself so swollen and wet and ready, parting a little, throbbing. My clitoris is swollen, my hips twitch under his eyes.

"Regan Wong," he says, very slowly, his gaze burning into me. "I. Am. Going. To. Fuck. You." He's breathing hard, enunciating his whispered words very clearly and slowly. Like he could lose control any second. His nostrils flare as he breathes in and out. He looks like a bull in the arena after a red flag's been waved before him. "Hard."

"Oh," I whisper, my heart drumming. He hasn't even touched me and my excitement is growing in surging ripples. My breasts are swelling, where they were taut and firm, now they're fuller. Firmer. I didn't think my nipples could swell further but they do and it's like they're so hard they're going to burst. My hand squeezes his cock as he lowers his head to close around one nipple and tug with his lips. I want to scream. It's so good.

His lips and his fingers are setting me on fire, he's working on my nipples and I'm making little noises and my body is singing, and he's not stopping. The pleasure goes on and on and all he's doing is kissing and touching my nipples and my breasts. I'm holding his cock but I'm not stroking him, I'm not doing anything except clasping him in my hand and lying there for him.

My boyfriend, Craig, his cock is almost always hard when he's with me. His is the only cock I've had any experience with and I know he likes me stroking him. Andrew doesn't seem to mind that I'm not doing anything. It's not that I don't want to. I do. But I'm helpless under his mouth and his touch and I can't think of anything except what he's doing to me and I've never felt so helpless and so out of control before in my life. It's so good and I love it.

Andrew's hand leaves my breast, slides downwards to rest on my stomach. His hand is big, as big as the rest of him, his fingers splayed wide. I'm feeling tiny next to him and that scares me. His hand circles slowly, stroking me, relaxing me, tantalizing me. I'm still scared and nervous but I'm no longer tense. One arm slides under me, around both my shoulders, moves me closer to him, we're pressed together, his body hot and hard and big. Bigger than Craig. A lot bigger. I shiver as his hand roams freely over me, running down to my hips and my thighs.