Rock and Water - Chapter 9 - Sex Stories

Rock and Water - Chapter 9

... blue eyes shine down on me. My gaze fixates on his lips. Unconsciously, my own tongue travels along my lower lip, moistening it in anticipation. “Sir?” “Yes, sweetheart?” “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.” An undefinable emotion sweeps over his face before he folds me into his arms, his head leaning onto my own. “I’ve missed being close to you too, Corrine, but I have to say these past days with Addie have meant the world to me. She’s absolutely a killer girl…just like her mom. Funny, sweet, a bit nerdy.” He shakes his head slowly, and sighs. “I hope I’ve made a good impression…I hope she’s okay with this.” I run my fingers through his hair, then gently down his trimmed beard. “I think she is. It’s just going to take some time. These are hard years for her, especially with Frank and I divorced; but it’s been long enough now that she’s mostly accepted it. It’ll just be a matter of whether she can handle sharing me once we get home.” “I’m in this for the long-haul…I hope you know that.” He’s looking down on me with a sincerity that makes my heart explode. I push myself up on to tip-toes and graze my lips against his. “I know that, Patrick. I’m with you there.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Standing up, he takes a step back, his hands on my shoulders. His voice deepens; the tone more commanding. “Okay then, sweetheart…are you going to be a good girl for me tonight, or do you need a reminder of what happens when you’re naughty?” “Oh, no Sir…I mean, yes. I’ll ...

... be good!” My eyes flit over once again to the innocuous bag sitting on the couch containing the recipe for my torture and my pleasure tonight. His gaze follows mine to the plain brown sack, then taking my hand, he leads me over to the couch and we sit on either side of the bag. He doesn’t make a move to open it. His voice startles me. It’s warm, deep, and pensive. “It’s wonderful how for most of the population, the items that line the shelves of markets and pharmacies are just what they seem to be at face value; never would they imagine other possible uses. Aren’t you lucky to have a boyfriend who recognizes these items for their other potentials?” “You’re the kinky MacGyver!” I blurt out. Patrick bursts out in laughter, failing in his attempt to issue me a stern look. He reaches forward and secures my chin between his thumb and forefinger, catching my attention and sending a rush of excitement through me. In a cautioning voice that belies his clear amusement, he says, “Shush, naughty girl…” He continues. “But you’re like me, aren’t you? When you see clothes hanging by clothespins in neighbor’s yards, you blush when you remember what those clips feel like pinching your most intimate flesh. When you see long, thick vegetables at the market, you ponder how they’d feel, imagining them in all three of your holes.” As he talks, my skin begins to prickle and my face and neck begin to flush. “Lastly, Corrine, I’ve seen how your body responds when I pull my belt out of my pants, even ...