#do-over-december

He deemed it better if he could keep you in his sights, he wanted you close enough to always be able to see you and know exactly where you were at all times, and it wasn’t like you could say no or stop him.

That is how the vast majority of most of your days were now spent, on his bed in his workshop. Laying or sitting there as he worked, sometimes you watched him or read books he would bring you or sleep or not much of anything in particular. 

Today you were feeling restless and bored. You watched him on and off as he worked, making himself busy with more sculpture work. You allowed your mind to wander as you watched how he worked with his hands. Thoughts about what those hands were capable of, and what they had done to you, recalling memories of his bruising grip and how easily he could crush you if he really wanted to. 

You decided you had enough of being alone on the bed, you figured out exactly how today could better be spent. You adjusted, your legs were strapped down to the bed still, restraints on your ankles, legs spread, able to use your hands, your wrists free as they were usually unless you had done something bad enough that he saw fit to restrain them too. Deciding to take it slowly, your hand on your inner thigh and sliding up, slowly, you kept your eyes on him, he was still very preoccupied. Your fingers found the edge of your panties, and you started in nice and easy, it felt good, sliding over yourself, you had the thought wondering when the last time you had done this to yourself. Seemed like you never got the chance to, you had kind of missed it, you got into it much quicker than you had expected to initially. 

You could feel the fabric getting damp under your touch, fingers increasing pressure as you rolled them over your clit, the familiar feeling of easy pleasure warm and low inside of you. Up and down, wetness starting to coat your fingers, dragging them up and rubbing over yourself, you let yourself start to vocalize how good it felt, not loud but not doing much of anything to quiet yourself either. It felt surprisingly good, but not nearly enough, you were hoping to entice him soon.

You needed more. You needed him. It wasn’t long until he noticed. He had his back to the mattress where you were, his hands slowed, and he turned, it seems that he had finally heard you and was now watching you. 

A hard swallow when you noticed his gaze on you as you were continuing to touch yourself, a little more tentative for a moment before growing more bold. 

First thing you said in hours, mouth dry and voice a little rough as you uttered his name, “Vincent.”

You touched yourself harder, writhing against the sheets, he turned back around, and you were sad for a moment, thinking you had failed, but then he got up. Hands on the workbench as he did, chair almost falling over, he turned back to you. He continued to watch you, leaning against the bench for a moment, you kept going, your eyes must have been pleading by this point. Finally, he seemed to sigh and reach up, he removed his mask and set it aside, he seemed to search the table for a moment and quickly found what he was looking for. You watched as he started to come over to you, heavy footsteps as he gathered his hair and put it up, and that made your heart nearly stop. 

You spoke again, softer, questioning, “Vinny?”

What did he have in mind that he needed his hair up in a bun like that, out of his way? He fell to his knees at the end of the mattress, and he grabbed your ankles and yanked you down, you yelped, knees bent, and he had pulled you much closer to him. He reached up and ripped the thin and soaked fabric from your aching core easily, tearing it quickly and tossing it aside. His arms locked around your thighs and his mouth was on you, you groaned, it felt good, but he was being so rough. It was intense, boarding on painful, this wasn’t about pleasing you, this was about getting you ready, you were simply along for the ride, you had to endure it. 

Crying out, your back arching and your eyes shut tightly, “Vin! Fuc-”

You managed to adjust, breathing becoming ragged as he worked you over, you actually might cum from this if he kept it up. You tensed and were tempted to reach down and bury your fingers in his hair, but you resisted the urge and moaned for him instead. Your fingers in the sheets, and you could feel that pleasure building, and all too suddenly it stopped. 

Before you could even think to move or question it he was on top of you, his hand on your throat, it made you gasp, eyes flying open, looking up at him. He had one hand on your throat, his other one pulling himself free of his clothes. He was on top of you, weight heavy as he lined up and sunk inside of you in one long stroke making you gasp, even with the prep it was so much to take, stretching you quickly. 

His other hand free now that he grabbed and had both of your wrists in his grip and pinned above your head easily. You struggled, and his hand tightened on your throat, a warning to not put up too much fight, that look, fuck he seemed less than pleased. Then you remembered, part of why you didn’t touch yourself often, he didn’t like it. He wanted to be the only one touching you like this, he is possessive over every fucking part of you, wanted to be the only one making you feel like that. 

His grip tightened on your throat further, and it made you clench down on him, he pulled out halfway and his hips snapped forward, hard, and it made you moan out his name. He took you just like that, rushed, gripping your wrists so tightly as he fucked into you, choking you firmly, looking down at you, your body jerking with the force of his thrusts. You were a mess under him, moans and gasps, almost sobbing in pleasure, all much more strained as you struggled to breath, thighs on either side of his hips.

You were already half regretting this decision based off of his initial reaction alone. Crossing your arms and looking away from him, you started to downplay it, “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

He scrolls and flips the magazine closed on the tabletop closed, he tossed it aside as he said, “Naw it ain’t nothin’ c’mon, I just wanna make sure I was hearing you right.”

You let out a small sigh and looked back over, he was smiling, a little smug but still seeming like he genuinely wanted to know as he sat at the table in front of you. 

A deep breath and you push yourself to repeat your previous statement, “I wanna go out for my birthday.”

“Like out-out?” He leaned back in the kitchen chair he was seated in and gestured vaguely to the window with the hand that currently wasn’t holding his beer, “Outside of Ambrose?”

You nodded once and were about to start defending yourself and giving reasons why it was a good idea, and why you wanted it so much, how good you had been that you felt you’d earned it. You were about to begin to tell him about how much you helped out around here and how well you listened, and you wouldn’t ask for anything else-

But before you could even start he gestured for you to come closer, you did, pushing off the counter you had been leaning against and coming over to him, closing the gap between the two of you. As you were right in front of him you knew what he wanted, a single nod being the gesture that he wanted you to sit on his knee, and you did so easily. His hand met your lower back, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, it was quiet for a moment. With his nose buried in your hair, he asked, “Where’d you wanna go?”

That is how you ended up here.

You wanted to go out, go dancing with him, he seemed reluctant, but you weren’t super familiar with the general area, you didn’t live around there before. Back before you knew him you lived states away, you were on vacation with friends when you stumbled into Ambrose and fell into his life. So as a compromise you decided to let him pick the place, he had been into the nearest big city far more than you had, and it seemed only fair, he seemed MUCH more interested after you mentioned that he could choose the venue.

Now the reason why he was so into it was made apparent. 

You’d been having fun so far, the tables are all occupied, leaving you up closer to the bar than Bo would like, especially because the bartender was looking at you far too much. As soon as the bartender attempted to verbally flirt with you, that was it, you were pulled away to the bathroom. 

The set-up of this club was different, having single room bathrooms with doors that locked, as opposed to a more traditional bathroom with usual stalls. You couldn’t protest, you knew if you tried it would fall on deaf ears, he’d have no sympathy, you could tell by his body language that he’d made up his mind. The door is opened, you are shoved through it and pushed against the door, your back meeting cool metal and his mouth is on yours.

The reason why was obvious. He needed to stake his claim, mark you as his again, you would never ever want anyone else, and you weren’t flirting with the bartender back, but the fact that he was even comfortable enough to attempt it with you was reason enough for this. He had his hands all over you, rough and possessive and so thoroughly Bo. 

You were breathless when his mouth finally pulled away from yours, and he turned his efforts towards attacking your neck, his hips pushed into yours, you feel how hard he is against you. He spoke, voice as rough as he was being,“You like how he was lookin’ at you?”

Head was already swimming from the drinks and from the sudden make out session, arousal filling you rapidly, you stumbled over your response, thinking was hard when your panties were this fucking wet, “Wha-what?”

Wrong answer. 

He was off you, hand on your wrist, and he dragged you from the door, it was very sudden you nearly tripped but managed to stay upright. Then you were right where he wanted you. He placed your hands on the counter flat and one of his hands was curling around your throat from behind, the other on your forehead, pulling your head up, and he spoke harshly in your ear, “Fuckin’ look at yourself.”

You did as instructed. Eyes half lidded, clothes slightly askew, breathing harder, you looked almost as turned on as you felt. 

“What do ya see?” His hand on your neck squeezed and you swallowed thickly. You took a little too long to reply because he decided to answer for you,“Cuz I’ll tell you what I see.”

His hand came off of your forehead, keeping his other hand firmly around your throat as the first one reached up under your dress, fingers felt you over your panties, and you gasped at the contact, “I see a fucking whore.”

How he spoke to you made you fucking throb and fill with want, somehow even more so than you already were. His fingers ran over your slit a few times, making your underwear even wetter as he pressed it closer to you, and it made your hips squirm, “Just look at what you’re wearin’ for Christ’s sake. This is your idea of a good time on your birthday, huh? Getting gawked at by a bunch of drunken assholes? Parading around in a skimpy little dress?”

His fingers were inside the barely there garment, his grip on your throat unrelenting to the point that you feared it might bruise, his grip too strong, you couldn’t reply, he tsk’d as his fingers slid roughly inside of you, “Must be, you’re fucking soaked. Don’t need any help from me this time, your cunt is fucking crying for it.”

He only let his fingers thrust in and out of you a few times before he pulled them out, and his hand finally left your throat, you sucked down a few deep breaths now that you were able to. You had no time to rest as he yanked your underwear down to your knees and hiked the skirt of your dress up over the curve of your ass. You heard him undoing his belt and unzipping his pants, and you couldn’t look away from yourself as you gripped the sink, you were so turned on just by the idea of this. Mess leaking down your thighs as you thought what a birthday present, getting fucked in a semi-public place like this? I mean, the door was locked-

Wait.

Was the door locked? You couldn’t remember if he locked it, you couldn’t recall hearing the sound of the lock turning over, 

You looked at him in the mirror, he was looking down as he was pulling himself out, you wanted to glance over and check. Trying it was stupid and yet you did, head turning an inch in the direction of the door and in response his fingers were in your hair, tugging hard, it hurt but in that good pleasurable pain kind of way. Hot breath in your ear as he grits out, “Did I SAY you could stop lookin’ at yourself?”

You squirmed again from how harshly he barked that at you, and it made you bite your bottom lip before responding to him, eyes forward, once again having to face yourself, “No-Bo. You didn’t.”

If the door wasn’t locked, then anyone could come in at any time, and that idea got to you terribly. He tugged on your hair again, harder than before, and you winced at the pain, “That’s right, I didn’t. Eyes forward.”

Soon, the feeling of him sliding inside of you took over and filled you with pleasure instead. That first rough plunge into your dripping cunt made you gasp his name and your eyes wanted to roll back already at the feeling, something you knew he wouldn’t allow or tolerate yet again, so you stare forward. 

One hand on your hip and the other came around to your chest after releasing your hair, he tugged the straps of your dress down, one after another, exposing your breasts to him and locking your arms to your sides in the process. The straps were tight in this position and holding your arms close to your sides, your hands still on the sink's edges, and he wasted no more time before setting a rough and steady pace, thick and hard cock stretching your walls.

You were trying not to be too loud, gasped and hushed breaths, and he didn’t like that. He gripped your hip harder and pinched one of your nipples, making you whine, “Filthy thing. Fuckin’ love it, clenchin’ down so hard on me.”

You did love it. All of it. The risk, the danger, the pleasure and how hard your heart was pounding in your chest, how you looked, how he made you look at yourself, at what he did to you. Eyes are unfocused but not unseeing, you love how you look, if you had his shotgun to your head and were made to conjure up a word to describe yourself or face having brain and blood paint the mirror before you, that one word you’d choose above all others was, mess.

You were a mess. 

The best way to describe you when he had his way like this with you, a complete and utter fucking mess. All for Bo. 

This wasn’t going to be drawn out long, wasn’t meant to be, was meant to be hot and quick and hard. 

Yet you didn’t need long tonight, you just needed it like this, exactly like this.

He could tell, knew just how badly he was getting to you and how perfectly his cock hit that sweet spot inside and how it all was working for you. 

“Bo-fuck-yes!” You gasped, and you clenched on him again, he chuckled, breathless himself and his hand slid from your hip, rough pads of his fingers finding your clit and circling it. You couldn’t hold back the loud moan you let out. 

“You wanna cum, little whore?”

A frantic nod from you, pushing your hips back and meeting him in the middle, he filled you perfectly, you were getting so close, you begged. “Ye-yes! Want to cum so-shit, so bad!”

He slammed into you again and again and his fingers didn’t slow, his breathing picked up in your ear, and you were right fucking there, “Well I ain’t stopping you birthday girl. C’mon, do it. Fuckin’ cum.”

And you didn’t need to be told twice, this time you couldn’t help it as your eyes squeezed shut and tipped over the edge, letting out a long moan of his name as you came, shuddering and knees nearly giving out from under you. Thank God, he was still holding onto you and helping hold you up. You hadn’t even caught your breath when you felt his pace get sloppier, uneven, breathing erratic, so close to his end, you wanted it, so bad. You met his gaze in the mirror, still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you begged, one sweet word passing your kiss bruised lips,“Please?”

He gave you just what you need and groaned out your name, holding himself all the way to the hilt inside your soaked pussy when he unloaded, warmth filling you that felt so fucking right. 

You both needed a minute to catch your breath after all of that. You were feeling so much, hot, sweaty, satisfied, more sobered up for sure, your knees were weak, and your arms hurt a little from the straps of your dress digging into them. He was still hard and still inside of you, he ground, and your breath caught, his hand slid up from your breast back to your throat, he squeezed. 

“So you gotta be wonderin’ what your gift is.” Wait, you thought him taking you out was your gift? 

It wasn’t? You were a little scared as you swallowed thickly, and asked,“I thought you taking me out was my gift, If it isn’t what is?”

He chuckled and his fingers pressed once more on your clit, making you moan softly before slipping from between your thighs and his hand closed around your wrist. He brought your hand up, and he was looking into your eyes in the mirror, his back still to your chest, and he said,

“You know how you’ve talked about wanting me to fuck you in front of other people?”

Your heart nearly stopped. You nodded once. You wanted that more than anything, it was one of your biggest fantasies, you clenched around him again, and that made him smirk.

“Yes Bo.”

“Well I figured I’d be nice and indulge ya.” You were confused, and he could tell, he kept talking, “I picked this place on purpose for a reason. You know what the place next door is?”

Your voice is small and still confused, “Another club?”

He laughed a little, slight cock of his head with a nod, “Yeah it is. A very particular kinda club, baby. One guy owns this one and the other.”

You still didn’t get it. Still confused. He brought your hand up and brought your fingers to the mirror’s surface. 

It had all the hallmarks of an all consuming crush, musing and daydreaming about what could be, desperate to spend any time you could with them. Said extreme longing was not helped by the fact that they returned those lingering looks and fleeting touches that had you questioning if they were into you too, but you pushed those feelings down. 

You seriously tried not to look too deeply into it when they were nice, like when Stu offered to buy your textbook for a class you needed. You had protested, but Stu gave you a shrug and a wink as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, saying, “Don’t worry about it.”

Or when Billy remembered your coffee order and brought you one to your shared class one morning when he knew you had a rough late night the day before trying to finish an essay. It went on like that for a couple of months but one night after a party, the three of you were hanging out in their apartment, all still kinda drunk and sitting around, a quiet moment broken when Stu spoke up, “You know we are into polyamory right?”

And just like that, the rest was history. You started dating them, and it had been pretty fucking great thus far. With the break about to kick off it meant some time apart, you’d met them at school and were from a different town than them, you all have plans to return to your respective families for the holidays. 

You wished you three could have spent it together, but it wasn’t possible with how far away your hometown was away from theirs. So instead, the three of you were having a small celebration, to do your gift exchange before the real holidays hit.

You three had all night to spend together, and so far you had watched a couple of movies, had some dinner and were currently deep in opening gifts. You were college students and set a budget but Stu, with all of his parent's money at his disposal, he totally went over the limit to spoil Billy and you. Mostly you because Billy had already had the talk numerous times throughout their friendship/relationship to quote- “Fucking knock it off, man.”

So Stu still did spoil him, but not as much as he used to. 

Spoiling you was new and exciting and fun. He loved how flustered you got, unused to such attention. He had gotten you a new coat you had been looking at but deemed too expensive previously you were going to stick it out, but Stu said fuck that, it’s winter, you deserve a good coat. Stu also got you the newest book in a series you enjoyed, and some new headphones and a few other things. Billy had gotten you one of those giant three wick candles in one of your favourite scents and a sweater that he admitted Stu helped pick out, but he bought. 

You loved all of it. 

You had pulled the sweater on and were just thinking about getting the dessert you had made for the three of you to share when Stu pulled out another gift, and you rolled your eyes as you chided him, tone flat, “Stu. Another?”

“Last one! I promise!” He said, holding one hand up as the other held onto the gift. Billy looked over and smirked, pointing at the package as he asked, “Oh, that’s it, isn’t it?”

Stu’s smile widened, and he wiggled his eyebrows in that way that made you snicker as he replied to Billy, “You know it!”

He handed you the package, and you placed it in your lap as you inquired, “Billy in on this one?”

“To be fair, I was in on all of them.” Of course, they conspired against you, but to be fair, you did the exact same thing, telling Billy what you got for Stu and vice versa. You just wanted to make sure you didn’t get the same thing and make sure your gifts were good enough. 

“Why am I not surprised?” You finally set to open the present, tearing at the paper apart, letting the shreds fall onto the hardwood floor with the rest, the torn wrapping was about ankle deep around the couch where the three of you were sitting. 

You opened the box and couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you serious?”

See, you had wanted something like this. You had never owned any sex toys previously and had expressed interest in getting some now that you were out of your parent's house and away at college you wouldn’t have to worry about them finding them, and you had the privacy and space to use them comfortably. It was a very thoughtful gift, but you weren’t expecting this to be what he went with. 

You reached into the box and lifted out the toy and held it up. It is a glass dildo, smooth and weighty and in the shape of a candy cane, and striped like one to boot. Billy was laughing a little behind his hand, and Stu managed to hold back his laughter, but only barely. Stu hit Billy on the leg, and he nodded once before clearing his throat and putting on a more serious look as he asked, tone surprisingly even, “What, you don’t like it, baby?”

They shared a look, and you smirked and turned it over in your hands, and Stu said, “Yeah. It’s appropriate, don’t you think?”

You nodded with your lips pursed and looked Stu in the eyes as you said in your own serious tone, “I’ll give you this much, Stu.” You pointed at him with the end of the dildo as you finished your thought, “-It’s very festive.”

That did it, and the three of you broke down laughing. You laughed too much and too long, but when you all stopped you were in the middle of your boys, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders and hugging them, “Thank you for the gifts, boys. I love them.”

The rest of the night continued on, the boys loved their gifts just as much, dessert was shared, and you all talked about what your plans over the holidays were. You were going to miss them so much, and they were going to miss you too, but you were still planning on spending the night tonight, then going off back home tomorrow. 

You ended up in bed with them, of course. Two weeks apart would be bad enough as it was, you needed to try and get your fill of them tonight. You were sitting on Billy’s lap, his back was to the headboard of the bed, and you were currently in deep and lost making out with him, his hands roaming on your clothed form. You felt the mattress dip behind you, feeling Stu get onto the bed, one of his hands on your hip and his other hand coming up to cup your cheek, “Got started without me?”

And with a hum you pulled back breaking the kiss with Billy and reached back, fingers finding Stu’s short hair and looking up at him,“You were taking so long, it’s not my fault Billy has no patience.” 

Billy rolled his eyes, the action is playful, head tilting back as he says, “C’mon, you see her man, how am I supposed to have her in bed and not do something.”

Stu’s hand under your chin and tilting your head up at a more aggressive angle, “Very true, impossible to resist.” 

Then he was pulling you into a kiss of his own, you kissed him back easily and Billy had leaned forward now, his mouth on your neck and fuck this was the best. Three of you taking turns and hands all over each other, it always heated up so quickly. Sometimes it was hard to keep track of whose hands or mouth were where, but you weren’t about to complain about getting so much attention when it felt this good. 

Fingers started to explore further and breathing was picking up. It felt way too hot for your sweater soon and Billy was helping you take it off and threw it aside, and you started to help him with his shirt, Stu was still pressed to you, and he whispered in your ear, “We got a little something in mind for you baby.”

Stu’s hands were pulling your shirt up, and you let him help you take it off, his hands were on your breasts, groping at you through your bra and you hummed questioningly,

“Mmmhmm?” You hummed questioningly, and he said, “Yeah, somethin’ we want to see you do.”

You were already so turned on that you were down for basically anything, “What is it?”

A look shared between the two of them, and they knew by how you responded that you were in the right mood to be open with them. Stu wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up a few inches, you let him and assisted, standing up on your knees as Billy took to removing your skirt. Then you were just in your panties and Stu had removed your bra as Billy moved out of the way, and you were put in his place, leaning against the pillows and headboard. Stu had his hands behind his back and after a moment he showed you what he was holding and-

It was that same present as before, you snickered and asked as your gaze ran over the glass candy cane in his hand, and you deadpanned,“Seriously?”

Billy ran his fingers through his hair before moving closer and leaning over you, one of Stu’s hands lands on your thigh, spreading your legs and Billy, much closer to you now, was looking into your eyes as he said, “Seriously. We think it’d be hot to watch you use it on yourself for us.”

Just like that, you were in. You would do just about anything for either of them solo, but having both of them wanting something from you? No way could you say no. 

You nodded once and the toy was placed in your hand and the boys backed off a bit, getting comfortable on the end of the bed, and you settled in. You weren’t sure how to start, you hadn’t used toys before at all, let alone one made of glass. It seemed sturdy, good quality, you turn it over in your hand as you looked at them and bit your bottom lip, they were watching you. As the thought and the situation fully washed over you, this was hot, you were much more into this idea than you thought. You’d done a lot with them, but certainly had not done a dedicated time masturbating in front of them. This was something special, it could be another gift of sorts, a new experience, new memories foraged with them.

Why not put on a show?

You started simply, pressing the toy to your damp panties and sliding it up and down, a slow tease for them and you. Sliding up and down, more pressure, focusing on your clit a bit more with each pass, and it was starting to feel pretty good, hips tilting up more into the cool sensation of the toy. 

All too soon you wanted more, and your fingers hooked in the crotch of your panties, you pulled them aside, bringing the toy down and touching it to your soaked flesh. You weren’t expecting it to be so cold, you shivered a little. 

“That good?” Stu inquired, brows raised and Billy was smirking, arm thrown around Stu’s shoulders, and he asked teasingly, “Yeah? You’re shaking already.”

“ ‘M fine, it’s just cold.” It’s a half lie as you slide the toy up and down a few more times before finally dipping inside yourself and oh-

Oh, fuck.

You didn’t expect that at all.

How good the difference in temperature felt. You were burning hot and the toy being so cold gave such a unique sensation, you slide the toy in as far as it would go, holding onto the hooked end with one hand. It slid in so easily. Another thing you didn’t plan on was how little lube it needed, the glass was so smooth, no ridges, it glides in and out with very minimal effort. 

It was unrelenting as you clenched on it, no give to it at all, that was something you weren’t used to either. Okay you got it, from just a minute of pushing it in and pulling it back out, thrusting back and forth experimentally you understood the appeal. You wouldn’t need to play this up much at all, it felt good, damn good. 

You vocalized it, soft moans crossing your lips, head falling back onto the pillows as you played, thighs spreading wider, you tilted the toy and brushed that spot inside just right and gasped. 

“Ah! Oh, fuc- that’s good.”

You needed your underwear gone, toy leaving you for only a moment, holding it in one hand you arched your hips and the other hand slid down and set to removing your panties, you pulled them off and with a coy smile you tossed them to the boys. Stu caught them, both looked very amused and seemed to be enjoying the show immensely. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying it yourself, ass touching back down on the sheets you slipped the toy back in and resumed a steady pace, eyes rolling back as you did, my God this was fun. Having them watch you, doing this so close to them, finding pleasure in yourself and them enjoying every second of seeing you get off. 

A hand met your ankle, and you looked down to see Billy getting between your legs, “Apparently cold is good.”

Apparently he was still impatient.

You nodded once, a harder thrust, and you moaned again, Billy’s hand slid up your leg and over your thigh and his hand nudged yours. You got the hint, moving your hand away, he leaned in close, his tongue ran over your clit and that your back arched. The cold glass, his hot breath and even hotter mouth around your straining clit, it was so much to handle. He had been paying good attention, he angled the toy just right to hit that sweet spot, and you were unable to stop the loud moan that left your mouth. 

Stu had moved up to be closer to you again, and he was kissing you and one of his hands was on your breasts and teasing one of your nipples and oh my God. You might have been laughing when you first opened up that present and laid your eyes on that toy, but you sure as shit weren’t laughing now. 

The rest of the night was amazing and needed. The three of you, all entangled together, soaking up every second you could because you knew that you wouldn’t have the chance for a while. 

You packed the toy and brought it home, you might have had a round or two on your own and sent the boys a few pictures. 

The one of you in your Christmas sweater and a skirt flipped up, wet pussy on display, face down ass up for the camera while you had one hand sliding the toy in and the fingers of your other on your clit was Billy’s personal favourite. The one you snapped with you in your family living room, late at night after everyone else had gone to bed, in just a robe, fully opened, exposing your naked body, lights from the tree as you laid on the floor in front of it dancing over your body as you used that same toy was Stu’s favourite. 

Only one problem was that now you can’t look at candy canes without getting a bit wet and wanting to squirm while missing your boys. 

First order of business. Getting out of bed without waking him. You glanced over, and he was facing away from you. Perfect. You pulled the blankets back carefully, and slipped out of bed, creeping to the door, you threw a look back over your shoulder, and he had rolled onto his back-

Still asleep.

Even better for what you had in mind. 

You sneaked out and down the hall to the bathroom, you had stashed what you needed in the cupboard the night before. You got ready quickly, slipping out of your oversized t-shirt and into the rather skimpy lingerie you had managed to get your hands on. 

While looking yourself over in the mirror, you had to admit, you looked great. Better than great, fucking hot. Putting your hair back and adding the finishing touch.

With nimble fingers you are taking the top off the tube, twisting the bottom and being greeted with that deep red lipstick. You looked at yourself in the mirror as you applied it, smoothing the crimson and buttery textured makeup over your lips, and then you were ready to go. 

You sneaked back in. He was still asleep, thank fuck for that. You closed the door behind you and made your way to the bed. You gripped the sheet and slowly pulled it back, he never slept in much, a white tank top and his underwear, this made your job infinitely easier. 

The sheet dropped on the floor, and you slowly got onto the bed, you were careful not to rouse him, crawling over him, between his legs, your hands on his hips and you started slowly. Leaning down, starting to mouth him through his underwear, taking your time. Whenever he stirred a little too much you stopped, eyes glued to his face, mouth still pressed to him but pausing your ministrations on him. Whenever you were sure he wasn’t going to wake, you continued. 

Once he was hard your fingers hooked in his waistband, and you slowly pulled them down off his hips, once his cock bobbed free your mouth made contact with hot bare flesh. 

Your tongue ran up his length, sliding up until you are teasing the small area where the head of his cock met his shaft, and you watched the pleasure play out on his features as you pulled him from his slumber. You kissed the tip, tongue peeking out from between your lips and continuing to tease him. His eyes finally opened, and he looked down at you, and you couldn’t hold back your smile, saying in that playful sing-song tone, “Morning Les.”

Your hands had worked his underwear down his thighs and now one hand on his hip and the other wrapped around the base of his shaft, your mouth closed around his head, and you sucked once, he smiled with a slight shaky groan as he responded, “Mornin’ hon.”

You pulled him out of your mouth, tongue swirling over the head, tucking some hair behind your ear before saying, still light and sweet, “Happy birthday.”

He let out a breathy chuckle and shifted his weight, you slipped him back between your painted red lips and that stilled his movement with a groan. “This is for my-ugh-birthday?”

You slide him back out as you say, “Well I’d do this on any morning but yeah.”

“Yer too good to me.” 

He deserved it. That overwhelmed and blissed out smile seemingly wouldn’t leave his face, you loved that. You took your time, pulling him more into your mouth again, the hand working as an extension of your mouth, twisting and stroking slowly, allowing some of the spit to leak out of your mouth, you spreading it over him as lube. 

You encouraged him to relax, and he seemed all too pleased. He listened, his hands came up in a gesture that suggested- “Alright, I’ll let you do your own thing.”

And you liked that he gave over that control and allowed that. Engulfing more of him into your mouth, tongue running up over the back of his shaft, sucking hard, cheeks hollowing on the up stroke, wrist moving, twisting your hand, you enjoyed the sounds you were pulling from him. 

The smiles and light mood didn’t last. 

Slowly as the minutes pressed on it changed.

You were relentless in your assault with your mouth on him. Sucking and licking, taking him deeply for a few passes before pulling him out and teasing him gently once more. 

He couldn’t stay still, he was seemingly restless now, squirming, moaning, panting. One of his hands fisted in the sheets, one hand behind him, gripping the headboard, you had teased him perfectly. Edging him lightly. Taking him deeply and going with a much harder grip and pace, and then easing up again, pulling him out of your mouth to instead kiss over the head. 

He had attempted to buck up into your mouth and the hand still on his hip prevented that, you tsk’d and moved away. One hand pumping his shaft, purposefully avoiding his sensitive head, coming down and kissing over his exposed hip bone, leaving red imprints there. The lipstick you had on was messed up, smeared and made you look so much hotter to him. The smears of the makeup, rings of red over his aching cock, straining in your grip, was quite the sight. 

“Ya alright up there, Lester?” You teased, you knew you were in for it, positive he’d get you back for this in his own way somehow. That once you were done, and he had recovered enough you would regret this, but for now you were enjoying a little too much. He groaned, head tipping back, voice strained, “M, ah, fine! Shit, please-”

That same sing-song tone from before leaves you again, “Please what, Lester?”

You twisted your wrist again, grip tightening in a way that made him keen for once and his thighs tense, a somewhat and barely annoyed groan again, “You kno-ow what!”

“No, I don’t.” You hum out playing dumb, and he tries again, “Lemme cum, M’ dyin’ please-”

He couldn’t stay still at all now. You adored it, watching him struggle, he was panting and writhing all for you, he was almost begging by this point, a chant of- “Please, please, plea-”

Just leaving his mouth as you had him again, mouth sliding up and down, taking him deeply, stroking him as you did. He was so close, you could tell, he pulsed on your tongue, and you pulled back up again just a moment too soon. 

Hand and mouth off him. His arm thrown over his eyes, another whine, and you couldn’t stop your smile. Hands trailed down his sides and over his hips, nails lightly dragging over him, he moved his arm, looking up at you and that look he gave you, fuck, he was so needy.

You gripped his leaking cock again and started to stroke him slowly, a small smirk playing at your red lips as he groaned, and you reassured him, “Oh don’t worry. I’ll let you cum this time. Probably.”

You thought you should find some way to make it up to him, it had been weeks since you spent any meaningful amount of time with him. If he spent the majority of time in the basement when he was home, and you weren’t going down there, no matter how much you missed him, then you needed to think of something to potentially entice him into spending some more time upstairs. Plus, to be fair, it was for you too.

One of the main things you both did in the basement, unsurprisingly, was hooking up. You typically loved it, the memories of it were all too fun to revisit. But the idea of being strapped down to that metal table in the dead of winter was something you wanted to avoid. You knew if you went down there and got in the heat of the moment, you wouldn’t be able to say no to him. 

You always had trouble saying no to him. He could be oddly persuasive, had some kind of hold over you, that tone he would take with you when he wanted something from you made you want to press your thighs together and rush to comply with even the most difficult and complex of his desires. 

While you didn’t want it right now due to the time of year, you typically did, it was one of the big reasons you loved hooking up with him in the basement. Being restrained was a big turn on for you, it always got to you terribly. He knew how much you enjoyed it and while he might not admit it he seemed to enjoy it just as much, if there is one thing Herbert loves is it is having control. 

You came in from outside, happy to be home for the night after such a long day, ready to get out of your winter clothes and warm up. Soon you had your jacket, hat and scarf off and left your boots by the door, rubbing your hands together, bag from shopping hanging off your wrist as you made your way to the kitchen. 

You wanted to make a cup of tea to help warm up and were surprised to see Herbert in the kitchen already. You let yourself smile upon seeing him sitting at the table, he was actually eating something for once, you set the bag down on the table as you greeted him,“Hey!”

“Hello.” It was casual, a glance up to you as you moved to get the kettle started on the stove as you tried to keep the conversation going, “How was your day?”

A sigh from him as you got the kettle going, and he responded. “Fine.”

He still had some work with him, papers sprawled out next to him, attention obviously more on that than you, which was fine. You got a mug out and the tea bags out after saying yours was fine too, average and fairly uneventful. 

It was quiet for a moment before he asked. “You went shopping?”

You perked up a little at that. Looking over your shoulder to him, he was eyeing the bag on the table, and you smiled as you responded, “I did.”

That was all you said before finishing making your tea, letting him stew on that for a moment before coming over to the table to join him, sitting down across from him,“Want to see what I got?”

You knew he was curious, even if he wouldn’t express that explicitly. The bag was black plastic, hiding your purchase from view, the implication of such a plain black bag wasn’t lost on him. 

“If you are in the mood to share, I suppose I can listen.” His tone was as flat and interesting as always.

You rolled your eyes a little and laughed as you picked the bag up, letting what he said go, instead deciding to just show him. You reached into the bag and your fingers closed on the box, and you pulled it out, casually tossing it onto the table, right into his line of sight and on top of his papers. 

Resting your chin on one hand, elbow on the table, picking up your mug and taking a sip from it, catching him looking at you over the frame of his glasses. He was still holding his pencil, and you wanted to laugh again from the look, but you held it back. 

He breaks the silence as he asks, “Handcuffs?”

“Mmhmm.” You hummed with a nod and set your mug back down. He turned his attention away from his work, dropping his pencil as he instead focused fully onto you, “May I ask why?”

“Why not?” You fired back with a smile. He had picked up the slim box and examined it, popping open one end and tipping the box, letting the black metal cuffs and keys slide into his open palm. 

You watch as he starts to turn them over in his hand, scrutinizing them as he says, “Seems a bit unnecessary.”

You looked at him as you inquired, “Unnecessary?”

He shrugs nonchalantly as he says, “Well, it’s a tad redundant, isn’t it? We already have the table downstairs.”

Might as well be honest. You took another sip from the steaming mug before saying in as casual a tone you could manage, “Perhaps we could use these in other places, when we aren’t in the basement.”

He had set the keys down after opening the cuffs, turning them over in his hand absentmindedly as he looked you over, expression harder as he said, “I thought you liked it down there.”

You rush to reassure him, “I do! I really do, it’s just, uh, a little cold right now in the winter.”

He said nothing. 

A pause and he got up. He came around the table and was right behind you, his hand on your shoulder, and he spoke to you again, in THAT tone, “Is that why you haven’t been coming down to see me?”

You couldn’t lie, not when he spoke to you like that, your throat is dry, just the way he spoke to you was already getting to you a little. It HAD been quite a while since you were last with him. You were in need. Lips open, and you speak, you don’t sound quite like yourself, “Yes.”

A hum from him, his hand ran over your shoulder, pushing the cardigan you had on down, you had a tank top on underneath, the sweater and coat were more than enough earlier, a thicker top would have been uncomfortable. You let him slip you out of it. Letting it pool around the legs of the chair you were seated in. 

The command was something you had missed far more than you had realized until he spoke it. “Hands. Behind your back.”

You did it without thinking. Who cares about the fact you were in the kitchen and Dan might come home soon, this is what you wanted, right? Then you felt the cuffs close around your wrists, they were cold, but you bared it, instead focusing on enjoying the feeling of the heavy metal weighing you down. 

You heard him step away. The way your arms were behind the kitchen chair, you couldn’t really turn to see where he was going. You heard him moving around behind you and then heard the sound of something opening and closing, the fridge?

He had come back to you, and you felt it against your neck, the sudden change in temperature making you jump, and you realized it wasn’t the fridge he had gone for but the freezer. One hand on your shoulder, holding you steady, making sure you couldn’t squirm away too much as his other one was busy dragging an ice cube over the side of your throat. You tried to move, but again he held you too well, you tried to shift away, his hand slid up from your shoulder and held your lower jaw tightly, dragging the ice over you. It was slowly melting, cold water dripping down, you could feel it soaking into the strap of your tank top already. 

“Wha-what are you doing, Herbert?” The question came out shakier than intended.

He leaned down, you could feel his hot breath next to your ear, the dichotomy between that and the now mostly melted ice on your shoulder made you shiver, “Proving a point.”

The way he said it, like he had that smug half smile on his face, somewhat amused around the edges.

What did he mean? 

He let go of your jaw and his hand travelled down, he gripped the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up, exposing your chest to him. That first piece of ice had totally melted, the evidence of it clear on your skin, the wet trails where he had moved it on you still visible. You jumped when you felt the fresh ice cube touch down on your collar bone, how many did he get? 

Where was he getting them from? He was still behind you, so you couldn’t tell. He moved it down further, down your chest, slowly, teasing you, you could feel goosebumps popping up in its wake as it trailed along your skin, and you found yourself still squirming, breathing harder, you finally replied, “And what point is that exactly?”

His other hand began to slide down, fingertips coming to rest at the edge of your pants as he circled one of your nipples with the ice, and you couldn’t hold back. 

His fingers rubbed you over your jeans, and you arched into his hands and moaned as an ice-cold rivulet of water ran down your stomach. You swore you could feel his smirk and how satisfied he was at how easy it was to get to you. You could also feel his breath on your ear again as he uttered, “That you can learn to like the cold.”

Fuck.

When the idea first hit you initially brushed it off, no way, too ridiculous and yet the thought refused to leave, the musing wore you down until you find yourself in the mall full of shoppers eager to get their holiday splurging over with. You were in the mall picking up gifts for other people and when you walked by that particular store the idea hit once more, and you considered it. The idea didn’t leave you all afternoon and midway through you decided that yes, you would. You left it for last because you still felt almost silly for really choosing to commit to this. 

You’d shopped in here before but never for something like this, your previous purchases were for more every day use, out of necessity and this was much more frivolous. Fingers linger as you search through racks and open drawers, trying to find just the right combination to, no pun intended, set him on fire. When you did find it, you were fucking giddy about it. 

Dear God, it was positively perfect. He would love it, Hell, you loved it too, you knew down to your bones that you would feel confident and sexy in it and as you were checking out you wondered why you never thought of doing this sooner.

You knew he was going to see you tonight. He never talked to you directly and told you when, but he had a little pattern, you had figured out with decent accuracy the nights he would pay you a visit. It had been a few days, there was no doubt in your mind that he would be anything but hungry and would seek you out.

It did look good. You looked good. You were looking at yourself in the mirror, and you wanted to laugh at the effect he’d had on you, turning and admiring your own ass with a thought of, “Like a dream come true.” His cheesy puns and terrible jokes have rubbed off on you more than you liked to admit out loud.

Silky and sheer stockings creeping up your legs, thigh high of course, the tops of them lacy, intricate patterns you traced absentmindedly with your fingertips as your eyes continued to rove over yourself. The garter belt holding said stockings up was cinched at your waist, the panties were so barely there you seriously wondered if they even qualified as such. The bustier corset style top was to die for, what it did to your tits alone made the price seem worth it. And of course it all matched perfectly, red and lacy fit the season and his tastes perfectly, I mean you’d be a fool not to get the whole set, really. It left very little to the imagination, and you were certain he’d enjoy it.

Was the robe entirely unnecessary? Yes. Did it hang off of your frame beautifully and elevate the whole look? Naturally. Besides, it was a gift, and you normally never brought yourself this kinda thing, it was the holidays, and you’d been very fucking generous to all the people you care about, why not be a bit generous to yourself too? You deserved to feel this good about yourself. 

You climbed into bed that night wrapped in soft and smooth clingy fabrics that accentuated your assets, a pretty little present, all for him. 

Falling asleep was a challenge, simply due to the excitement you felt to see his reaction to your present for him. When you did fall asleep it took awhile for you to notice, which wasn’t unusual, becoming aware of the shift was hard, it was almost always muddy, until you heard him, that made you come to your senses real quick.

“There you are, kitten, took you a minute to get here, tonig-oh.”

You couldn’t hide your smile, you wanted to turn to face him, but there was no need, he was already on you.

His presence could be felt over your shoulder, your back nearly on his chest, you could feel the heat that radiated off of him. You felt his non-gloved hand on your shoulder, it started there and dragged up slowly, the back of his knuckles coming over the side of your throat and up over your cheek. His fingers hook, and he pulls some of your hair aside, exposing more of your throat to him, he leaned in closer and whispered in your ear, “What’s all this, hmm?”

What happened to all of that confidence of yours? It always seemed to dry up relatively quickly around him. Suppressing a shiver, you instead ground yourself but lacing your fingers together in front of yourself, responding simply with, “A gift.” 

You felt his lips brush the shell of your ear as his head pitched forward slightly, he let out this terrible low laugh that made your skin prickle in a way that made you want to squirm. Next you felt the tips of the blades on his glove brush your hip, even through the sheer material of your robe the steel felt terribly cold, then again the robe was there for how it looked, not for any warmth it could provide.

“For me?” 

His question was met with a simple nod in response from you. 

That glove of his moved higher, the clink of metal on metal had started to condition you, hearing it would make you want to press your thighs together and would begin the slow drip of arousal. He pulled some of the material as he went, the soft fabric felt so good sliding against your skin, that small twinge of fear when his glove was on you was present was also welcome, it isn’t a hindrance, instead it adds to the feeling and experience. 

“You shouldn’t have.” He hums.

Fucking Christ, that voice of his affected you on the best of days, but when it was right in your ear? It made the current problem of your ever increasingly wet underwear infinitely worse for you. It was far too early for you to be having this much trouble, but he was just on you aggressively, you had no time to adjust like you usually did, he left you no personal space. The second he saw you tonight, his hands were on you. Yet you made yourself press onward, made yourself speak, and tried to hide how turned on you were already becoming.

“I wanted to.”

That pulled another laugh from him, and to be fair it was funny. The very idea of you spending hard-earned money on a gift for him, money that you could have spent on friends or family, or on yourself in a better way, you spent instead on fancy lingerie to wear for your murderous dream demon fuck buddy. 

The fact that you meant it? That you had wanted to get him something? Hilarious.

The fact that you were actually hoping to impress him, please him? That was downright hysterical.

He sounded pleased as punch as he responded, thoroughly amused and still groping at your body. “My, my what a remarkable little slut you are. And here I didn’t get you anything.”

Him speaking pulled you from your thoughts, non-gloved hand on your throat from behind, glove on your waist, and he manhandled you, turning you around, looking you up and down. It was far too quiet right now, you wanted to squirm from how intensely he was looking at you, wanting to shift your weight from one foot to the other. 

You broke the silence first, desperate to fill the space, to distract yourself from how he looked at you, “I didn’t tell you I was doing this, it’s fine, you didn’t get me something.”

Eyes flicked up, and his gaze met yours, a lecherous grin breaking out on his face, leaning closer as he teases, “All the more reason. I didn’t have to ask, and you did all this.”

He clearly appreciated your effort, that was made all the more obvious as his hands pushed open your robe. More exposed flesh on display he took the opportunity and one of the blades of his glove dragged over that strip of exposed skin between the lace edge of the bottom of your bustier and the top of your garter belt. You weren’t sure whether to lean in or pull away, the touch was featherlight, and it didn’t break the skin, but fuck, you wanted him to.

You wanted him to do what he did best, overwhelm you in every single way possible, pleasure and pain, doesn’t matter, you wanted it all. 

You let him touch you. In whatever way he wished to, and you enjoyed it as always. Fingertips dragging over any exposed skin, pulling on straps and feeling the lace roughly, dipping in occasionally, teasing you with the threat of more. 

What was his goal, agony or ecstasy? Always hard to tell with him, it could be either, or more usually, both, and you wouldn’t have minded whatever he provided. Your eyes had fallen closed, and you were simply enjoying feeling, and then you felt the drag of that blade over your thigh, and it drew a shuddering breath from you, the first cut of the night always was special, this one hurt, burned in a particularly delicious way.

It took a moment for you to realize, you felt the warmth and wetness soaking into your stocking, your eyes flying back open, gaze falling down and there it was. A hole in the red sheer material, matching the one in your skin. He cut you again as you watched, harsh inhale through your teeth, blood blooming, darker red staining the more candy apple colour of your lingerie and fuck you loved that sight almost as much as he did, something that changed in you definitely because of him.

He didn’t stop there. “You look like you want to say something.”

A singular blade dragged up and hooked into one of the straps of your garter belt, a pause, he looked up into your eyes, and you looked back. He moved again without breaking eye contact, he cut and severed the thin red strap that helped hold your stocking up in two. From that small motion you let out a quiet sound of protest and looked down, hand finding the split strap and feeling it, examining it with a small frown, he didn’t stop. Dragging the blades back up, thin lines cut again, splitting apart the delicate sheer material and lace as he went.

You did want to say something. You spent good money on this, and he was ruining it, you hadn’t even had it for a full day, and it was decently expensive, yet here was he was shredding it without a single fucking care, but you knew better than to talk back to him most nights.

The next motion was quick, a sharp upward jerk of his hand and he made another cut, bigger, much bigger, nearly splitting the top in two, nicking you in the process. When one of those blades hooked into one of the straps on your shoulder you finally spoke up, unable to be silent any longer, what you said next might have been meaner than necessary. “What the fuck do you think you are doing, Freddy!?”

And then you were pushed into the nearby wall, back hitting the concrete so hard the wind is knocked out of you, his non-gloved hand on your throat, holding you in place firmly. His leg slots in between yours, and he leans in, closer than he has been all night. 

"This is my present, isn't it?"

You struggled and when you did it put more pressure on your still clothed pussy, you were so wet you were sure you’d leave a stain on his pants, yet he pressed harder. He always made it so hard to think, and you choked out pathetically, "Ah, wha-what?"

He made you grind on him, his hand tightened on your throat, and he made sure you repeated the motion, dragging your almost exposed slit over him once more, and it made you moan. Fuck, you hadn't realized how excited you had gotten, just being around him had gotten to you terribly, you should have known better to be honest. Those blades had an awful habit of making you drip as soon as they touched you. He spoke again, so harshly as if you were an idiot, "You…”

The look he gave you was pointed, your brows furrow, your clit throbs and your hole leaks. He repeats himself before continuing his thought, slowly, “You are MY gift, aren't you?”

Fuck, that got to you too, the extra hard grind he forced you to do on the last word made it worse still. When he talked about owning you, flexing that more possessive side of himself, it made you weak. You nodded once, swallowing, he was holding you so tightly, breathing was a challenge, and you grit out the only reasonable, logical and true answer, "Ye-yes I am."

That damn smirk, he loosened his grip slightly, his thumb stroked over your skin, and he said oh so mockingly, "Then why are you-” He points to you with his sharp gloved pointer finger, close enough you are almost worried he’d run you through between your ribs,“-giving me-” he pointed back to himself before saying, “-shit about how I'm choosing to unwrap MY present?”

And he sliced through that strap on your shoulder, nicking you in the process again, deeper than before, you groaned. 

His glove came up, and he licked the spilled blood from the blade, staring you down. You knew you couldn't fight him. This was his gift and he could do with it as he pleased, do with you as he pleased.

You conceded.

"I'm sorry. You're right Freddy." That got a laugh out of him as he hooked another blade in the remaining strap on your other shoulder and made you grind on his thigh once more, drawing another broken moan from you.

A ding from your phone, you picked it up off the nearby table. He was here. You shrugged on your coat and gave yourself one last look before grabbing your bag and heading out the door. Door locked and now in the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor with a manicured finger. Humming lightly to yourself, looking your nails over as you descended. 

To say you were excited was an understatement. You loved getting to see him and the holidays were crazy with his line of work, you didn’t see him nearly as much as you’d have liked this past month. Soon the elevator doors slid open and out you stepped, heels clacking over the polished tiles of the lobby of the apartment building you lived in. 

You stepped out into the cold evening air of downtown, smile crossing your painted lips to see him waiting for you, leaning against the town car hands in his coat pockets, grin widening when he saw you. 

“Hey.” You called to him with a coy smile, he held a hand up signalling you to stop, you did, a few feet in front of him. 

Next he signalled you to turn to show him the whole look, and you of course obliged. Hands in your jacket pockets, holding your coat open as you did so, letting him drink in the sight of you, a low whistle as he did so. When you were sure he was satisfied you closed the space between the two of you, hands out of your pockets now, reaching out and taking hold of the scarf he had on, hanging loosely over his jacket. 

“I reiterate. Hey.” He held up one finger signalling, further still, you to wait as he said- “Hang on just a second-”

One of his hands coming up and finding the back of your neck, and he pulled you closer to him, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss. You gripped his scarf and tugged him closer, a soft hum from you. He broke the kiss and, still so close to you, he said softly, “Hey.”

That drew a small laugh from both of you, and then you let go of him, taking a step back, and he opened the door for you as you teased him, “Was that really necessary?”

Stu told you in a very serious tone of voice, hands gripping the top of the car door, “Yes. It was important.”

When you laughed, it made a grin spread over his face. Adorable.

You leaned over the door separating the two of you and pressed another kiss to his mouth before getting into the car. Soon he was beside you and you were off. Your hand in his and talking casually, catching up, it had been too long. 

You were recounting something funny that happened the other day at a gift exchange with friends when you caught him staring at you, and you stopped, asking in that usual playful tone when you were with him,“What? Something off with my make-up?”

“No, no, far from it. You look amazing tonight.” Well, that was nice to hear, you certainly hoped so. He picked it all out after all. You thanked him, of course. The drive passed by quickly. Soon you were being ushered inside, coats checked, and walking into the main room with him, his hand on your lower back as he led you to your table. 

“Oh, we get a table?” You joked, and he pulled your chair out with a scoff, “Of course we do, baby. Look at who you’re with.“ The overexaggerated gesture to himself when he said that made you snicker. 

Of course, how foolish, naturally you get to have an actual table. He took his place next to you and had ordered you drinks in the next minute. You really enjoyed these dates out to events like this pertaining to his work, he was so in his element, different from how he was when he was totally alone with you. Conversation always flowed so easily with him, and you enjoyed yourself immensely.

Drinks were brought, and he held his glass up to you, that same smile you loved so much, you held up yours as well as you asked, “And what are we toasting to?”

“Hmm, how about to me having the absolute finest date here?” How could you say no to that? You smirked as you offered up,“So it’s to both of us, really.”

“Exactly! Always so smart, baby. To us.” Glasses clinked, and you were still mid-sip when he asked it,“So are you wearing it?”

You glanced at him, he was looking at you, pose relaxed, one elbow on the table, glass held loosely in his hand, fuck, he looked good. 

We should talk about the nature of your relationship with Stu Macher. It might be obvious to someone else looking at you two. He was significantly older than you, professional, established, very well-to-do. You were the pretty young thing, always dressed to impress and on his arm for all the events you were allowed to attend. 

The nature of your relationship was very clear, it started off a bit more business like, but it quickly evolved into more than just that. 

“Why Mr.Macher! I have no idea to what you are referring.” You couldn’t hold back your smile, leaning forward on your elbows, fingers laced together and tucked under your chin, a faux innocent batting of your eyelashes, and he gave you a look. 

“Baby.” That delicious tone. More serious. You gave in with a wider smile and said, “Yes, I am.”

“Good. If you didn’t admit it, I was going to have to test it already.” Your thighs pressed together under the table, you knew he was going to use it at some point, there would be no reason for you to wear it if he had no intention of using it. 

Some coworker of his came over and took some of his and took his attention, you sat next to him, patiently waiting, you were very used to this. It was more appropriate to say colleague you supposed, but ultimately it didn’t matter. Fingers on the rim of your glass as you look around the well decorated room and the well-dressed people. You contemplated getting some food in a minute, surprisingly hungry, but your thoughts were interrupted, a hitch in your breath as you felt it.

Your eyes flicking to Stu, you saw it, he had his phone pulled out, semi-hidden under the table, next to his thigh, you were sure he knew you could see it. He was still looking up to his co-worker, engaged in their conversation, but you saw the open app on his phone and there was no mistaking it.

In case it wasn’t obvious enough by this point. Stu Macher was your sugar Daddy. And he had some particular tastes. Taste and appetites that you helped him satisfy. That is how your arrangement initially began, but it had grown into more, you were much closer, however he still insisted on spoiling you, buying you things, paying for your rent and giving you an allowance. He seemingly got off on providing for you, and who doesn’t love to be spoiled by someone so attentive? You weren’t going to say no. It would be cruel to deny him that, frankly. 

To be perfectly fair, if you had met him in some other circumstances, you were certain you would have pursued him. He was nice and sweet, so fucking handsome, funny, there was so much more to him than what he could provide financially. 

Things were good.

So what about tonight? And what was going on right now? Stu loved getting up to all kinds of filthy things with you. One of his favourites was doing things in public spaces with the risk of getting caught. He had sent the bags over earlier with your outfit for tonight. Along with the dress and make-up and accessories and shoes, he provided the lingerie for you to wear under your dress, and the panties were very important. You recalled that text he sent you that afternoon and the instructions. You followed them to the letter. The panties had this perfect little pocket in them to slip in a remote control vibe. The one he was controlling on the app on his phone right now. While you were less than two feet from his coworker. 

You swallowed hard and gripped your glass, attempting to breathe evenly, managing to quell the moan attempting to break free. He didn’t make it easy. Your eyes peeked at his phone and watched as he manipulated the controls with one hand, increasing and decreasing the vibration. You were thankful for the loud overall party atmosphere covering up the sound of it. 

A bite of your bottom lip, eyes breaking away, focusing on the table in front of you, trying to take deep breaths and mercifully it stopped. You let out a sigh and looked over to Stu who was looking at you with a grin, his coworker gone His hand fell to your knee, and he squeezed as he praised, “Good job. You didn’t give yourself away at all.”

“Thank you.” You took a sip and felt a bit of pride, until he said, “Guess I’ll just have to try harder.”

Fuck.

You sighed again and took a healthy swallow from your glass.

Really, by now you should be used to this. You had prepared yourself for the fact he’d want to use it in public because I mean of course he would, however you should have also been ready for the fact that he would make it as difficult as possible on you. 

That reminded you to ask. “So where’s Billy tonight?”

He squeezed your knee again before letting go and picking up his glass again as he responded, “A different party. Shame he couldn’t come, but he had his own thing and I could only bring one guest with me.”

Makes sense. They were in different lines of work, after all. It had been a while since you last got to see him. That was another interesting angle to this arrangement. So you had met Stu with the understanding of your arrangement, the initial process went great, you seemed compatible. Multiple dates, he paid for all and spoiled you, and of fucking course the sex was incredible. A little ways into it, you remembered him sitting you down and bringing forth the idea of it, that he had a friend, his best friend, they were very close, he loved to share and wanted to share you with him. 

You were open to it and met him, and we're so thankful that you did. He was equally attractive, a good job, not exactly as high profile as Stu’s, but he seemed more than comfortable. One of the things you liked best was how Stu acted around him, more relaxed, you found out they went way, way back and seeing the other side of Stu? Amazing. Made you like him a lot more, might have made you fall for him a little sooner. 

Turns out sex with Billy was pretty fucking great too. You remember the first full weekend away with them to really test the dynamic, and it was unreasonably fun. Hot, boundary pushing. They had to be sure about you before trying out what they really wanted. A rented house and a complex role play. It was all discussed beforehand, limits, safe words, signals, the whole nine. You pretend to stay there alone. A phone call, they ‘break in’, there were costumes and ropes and knives and fucking Christ why did you like it so much? 

The memories of that weekend were some of your favourites.

It couldn’t have gone better and yep they wanted to ‘keep you’ and you wanted that too more than anything. Basically, the whole time you saw Stu, you only saw him. Not like you needed to see anyone else, he more than took care of your monetary needs, emotional and sexual needs being satisfied by him were a give in. Now add Billy as a regular guest in your life and you were fucking set. 

You smiled as you teased him, keeping it light as ever, you were sure with whatever he had in mind the mood wouldn’t stay that way forever, “And you decided to bring me? I’m so flattered.”

He scoffed with a smile, obviously he was going to bring you, he felt no need to say it though, so instead he said, “Finish your drink.”

“That an order, Stu?” You asked as you picked up your glass and as you started to drink, eyes falling closed as you did and what happened next almost made you choke, while you were distracted for that moment he turned the vibe back on. 

His phone was out on the table, and he had flicked it back on easily. You managed to swallow your mouthful and threw a look at him, he had finished his own drink now, staring you down. You wanted to ask ‘what the fuck?’ but he spoke first, “Why are you calling me that?”

You watched as his fingers lingered on his phone screen, turning it up slowly, and you swallowed your moan, one of your hands was gripping the cloth napkin in front of your place setting. Forcing yourself to respond, “Because we are in public. At a work event. It’s yo-o-our rule.”

You almost broke but managed to hold strong even as he nudged it higher still, you almost wanted to shake, pleasure simmering low inside of you. 

“Hmm, it’s a special occasion. Indulge me.” He was leaning much closer to you, face inches from yours, you wanted to kiss him, a bite of your bottom lip, and you whispered it, low enough just for him to hear, indulging him just as he wanted, “Of course, Daddy.”

You actually pulsed when you said it. Not just because of him still having the toy turned up, but from breaking this previous hard and fast rule of his, saying this in public at a work event. That smile alone made it worth it. The kiss he gave you afterwards, forget about it. 

The rest of the night was too fun. More drinks, amazing food, and he kept teasing you on and off. The range on that thing was unreal. 

At one point you were coming back from the bathroom, and once you were in his line of sight, he turned it on and watched you almost stumble on your way back to the table. He was still laughing a little when you hit him playfully on the shoulder and mouthed ‘stop!’ he, of course, did not. 

Picking the worst times, when you were in the middle of eating or drinking, at one point when you were dancing. You thanked God he was right there, it went from fully off to full tilt, and you would have dropped were it not for him holding you up. 

Eventually you ran into a friend you knew from sugaring. Both you and her standing near the table, casual conversation, it was nice, you hadn’t seen her in a while, “So you here with-?”

Unlike you having just Stu she had a few regulars in rotation, you offered it up, question open-ended, and she rolled her eyes as she started,“Dickhead. I mean-”

Covering her mouth with her hand with a laugh that you joined in on before both saying, “Dickinson.”

She had told you about him. While he paid great money, he kinda sucked. 

“Why’d you agree? I know you have other options, why spend New Years with that-”

You were caught off guard. Not expecting it at all, you nearly dropped your drink and couldn’t stifle the moan this time, you managed to quiet it but not completely. You took a deep breath and looked around, trying to find where he was, nowhere in sight, your friend reached out, hand on your shoulder, “Jesus, you good? What’s wrong?”

You swallowed hard and looked over at her, trying to keep your breathing steady, “Fuck it. So-”

And you filled her in, telling her all about what was going on and the naughty secret you had currently concealed in your panties and the game he was playing with you. 

“Ugh, see, you are so lucky! He’s so good to you, so playful, he always has fun shit for you two to do together.”

It was fun. Even as you were struggling standing here, he never settled on one pattern or strength for long, constantly mixing it up, not letting you adjust at any point. You understood her jealousy, I mean if you didn’t have him and had to watch someone else parade around with him, you were certain that you could feel similar. 

Finally, the pleasure ceased as the toy turned off, you were so wet by this point you could feel it on your thighs, thank God for the length of the dress he chose. 

You looked at your friend who seemed to be looking behind you, big smile, you felt him before seeing him, his hand on your lower back, he knew your friend obviously and greeted her, “Hello. Keeping her company for me?”

“Of course Mr.Macher. Great suit tonight, by the way.”

You didn’t mind if your friend flirted with him and you kind of like when he would flirt back, he didn’t do it super overtly, but he did compliment her in kind, she looked great herself, before he asked, “Thank you so much, do mind if I steal her?”

“By all means. See you later.” Then he was leading you away from the party and down one of the hallways lined with office doors, not fully lit up since no one was working. Hand in hand as he asked, “I’ve never actually showed you my office, have I?”

Surprisingly, he had not. You shook your head, and he stopped in front of one of the doors before pushing it open, “A damn shame, truly. C’mon.”

You jumped at the chance. You knew how to behave at one of these events, but you were desperate by this point. Aching with need. You wanted him intensely, he was too good at arousing you. The light touches and teasing, the things he whispered to you tonight when no one was in earshot, and of course using that damn vibe on you. 

You would have been more impressed with his office if you weren’t so preoccupied. You walked around slowly, you had your mind on one thing, that big beautiful desk. Certain, you were going to get bent over the side of it and thrown down on top of it. You turned to see where he was, and he was on you, hands on your waist, and you were backed up into that desk, sat on top of it. Far enough away from the party, you allowed yourself to let go, moaning against his mouth. “You did so good in there, baby.”

“Mmf thank you.” Your hands gripping the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him closer, his hands on either side of you on the top of his desk, you couldn’t help yourself now that you had him alone, kissing him so passionately. 

He pulled away too soon and took a step back, discarding his jacket, throwing it over the desk, rolling his sleeves up as he said, “Pull that dress up. Let me see.”

You obliged all too quickly. Jesus, he looked so good. Hands scrambling to pull your dress up, hands in the folds of the fabric, hiking it up your legs, eventually hands on the hem you held it up, legs spread.  One of his hands on your inner thighs as he looked, “Fuck, baby. You’re soaked.”

A nod, hips pushing out a little further, wanting his hand higher, wishing he would touch you. His fingers brushed over you and your head fell back with a moan, “Need it badly, hmm?”

You responded quickly, breathy, “Ye-yes Daddy Please?”

Then both of his hands were on you, hauling you up onto your heels. “Keep holding your dress for me, baby.”

You could only nod, and you expected to be forced over the desk, but no, that’d be too easy, instead you were pulled over to the window. He was right behind you, he took your hands and pressed them flat to the glass and whispered in your ear, “Nice view, isn’t it?”

You looked out the window and it certainly was. Downtown, late at night, high up, what floor was this? You wondered what he was getting up to, hands on the straps of your dress, sliding them down off your shoulders, what he wanted was made clear, and your breath hitched as he said it, “Think anyone could see us up here?”

He noticed how it affected your breathing, his mouth ghosted over the side of your throat, and he chuckled before saying, “Oh, I think you like that idea.”

Hands trailed down your arms and sides and then his fingers found your panties and slid them down, you let them pool at your feet, and he encouraged you to step out of them, he kicked them aside. One hand sliding down your stomach, your hands twisting in the fabric of your skirt and soon his hand was between your thighs, strong fingers dragging through your folds and you moaned. 

“Do you want something to see you like this?”

His fingers circled your clit and his opposite hand tugged down your dress further, bunched around your waist, straps still on, holding your arms to your sides, hands still on the glass. You were sure you were fogging up the glass, but who fucking cares when he makes you feel like this.

“Well, since you indulged me earlier, then allow me to do the same.” Then he pressed you forward, you almost yelped, it was winter, the glass was freezing, he let out a small laugh from your reaction, “Cold?”

“Very! Fuck-” You pushed and tried to back up, but he kept you pressed there, he tsk’d before saying, “Now, now baby. If you want it-”

He rubbed your clit harder, and you squirmed against him,“-and I think you do. Then you are going to stay right here. Understood?”

You relented, he eased off, only to dispose of his pants, you listened to the jingle of his belt, and soon he was back on you. One hand on your shoulder and one hand under your thigh, adjusting your leg just so, and soon you were blessed with the feeling of him splitting you open. The stretch was wonderful, you moaned long and low, forehead pressed to the glass. He only held in you for a moment before he began moving, and it practically already had you panting. 

“Filthy. This how you like to celebrate? Getting fucked out in the open? Praying someone sees you?”

All you could do was moan out yes, over and over, in time with how he fucked you. The thought, how he spoke to you and of course again, how fucking wonderful it felt. 

“I loved watching you struggle. Trying to act normal and proper, you did so fucking good for me, baby. So proud of you.”

This is the best. Treating you like this, taking you like this, so open and rough and possessive while still lavishing praise over you. Pushing back onto him, completely lost in it, hardly registering what he was saying, but you caught bits and pieces, like this next part-“I’ll try not to mess you up too bad. No promises though. Still have to go back out there-”

That is what did you in. The thought of having to go back out there. Acting normal, like you didn’t just get fucked against his office window like a whore, trying to look and act every part of the prim little arm candy his office had gotten to know while his cum leaked down your thighs under your dress. That is the thought that finally made you cum, thankful he had you pinned to the window, or you would be on the floor. Breathing so hard on your come down, he paused, buried all the way inside, a harsh grind as he whispered in your ear, “Happy New Years, baby.”

You couldn’t hold back your laugh as you replied, still breathless, “Happy New Years, Daddy.”