Hummingbird

"Naked," he said.

Her smile widened. "Even better," she said. "Give me a minute."

When she was lying on top of him, his cock pressed up against her belly, he sighed. "That feels nice," he told her.

"Very nice," she agreed.

He wanted to put his arms around her, to feel her close.

She leaned down and kissed him. Her mouth was soft and warm. "I'll tell you a secret," she whispered. "There was a guy at the club tonight who kept checking me out."

"What?"

She laughed. "So tell me," she said. "Is that fun to think about?"

He strained, pushing up into her belly with his cock. "Tell me," he demanded hoarsely.

"Just that," she said. "Just a guy who kept, actually, staring at me."

"What did you do?"

"Do? I didn't do anything. I ignored him. That's what I always do."

"Oh," Patrick said.

"What should I have done?" Linda asked.

"I don't know."

"What did you imagine me doing?" Linda asked.

Patrick looked at her. "All sorts of things," he said softly.

There was a pause.

"You're a strange man," Linda told him. "Wanting your girlfriend to do all sorts of things with guys in clubs."

Patrick closed his eyes. "I was imagining you coming home," he whispered. "You finding me here, tied up. And you telling me about how it had been. You crouching over me, making me lick you, telling me..."

"Telling you what?"

"How a guy had..." He paused. "Pressed into you."

"Pressed into me? Like in a crowd?"

"No," Patrick said. "More like in a dim hallway. Nobody else around. You were kissing him and his hands... you wanted him touching you." He licked his lips. "Under your skirt."

"Ah," Linda said.

Patrick was talking faster now. "You slipped your hand into his pants," he said. "You felt his cock. Squeezed it."

Linda reached down and gripped him. "Like this?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Patrick said. "If you actually fucked him." He was rocking on the bed, thrusting up into her.

"Did you want me to?"

"Kiss me," Patrick said, urgently. "Squeeze me again. Oh God. Oh God."

"You're not going to come now, are you?"

He slowed down. "No... no." He grinned. "But I'm wicked turned on."

Linda smiled. "Tell me more about this guy," she said. "Was he attractive? A good dancer?"

"I... I don't know."

"You see," Linda said. "You're skipping some of the best parts. You're in such a rush to get me into a dark halfway jacking off some guy I hardly know."

Patrick stared up at her. "I thought you like the stories," he said.

"I love them," she said. She kissed him. "But they'd be even better with a little background."

"Oh. Like what?"

"Like..." she paused. "So say there's this girl who's out with her friends."

"Yes?"

"And this guy at the bar keeps looking at her in the mirror."

""Is that what happened?"

"It's a story," she said. "Okay?"

"Right."

"So... she keeps noticing this guy, notices how he's noticing her, and she starts to... wonder."

"Wonder?"

"Yes, just idly wonder... You know how at the store you wonder if the peaches are ripe and sweet or hard and mealy? She's wondering if this guy is sweet or mealy." She traced her hand along his cheek.

"How does he seem?" Patrick asked.

"Well, she's not sure. Plus she has a boyfriend at home, so her wondering is very very idle. But she volunteers to go get a pitcher of sangria for the table and goes to stand by the bar, waiting for the bartender. It's kind of a busy night. And she stands next to him, next to this guy."

"Mmm."

"Yes, mmm. She gets a better look at him, not looking at him, you understand, but he's right there. She's trying to get the bartender's attention."

"And he looks..."

"Definitely sweet. Not mealy." Linda leaned down and kissed him. "You like my story?"

"So far so good,' Patrick said.

"Waiting for the good parts?"

"Mmm."

"Well, it's complicated. She's got this boyfriend and even if she wanted to, you know, get to know this guy better, it would be awkward. Her girlfriends would notice and she doesn't want a lot of gossip and anyway she loves her boyfriend, so... maybe she just gets the pitcher of drinks and goes back to her friends."

"Oh."

Linda smiled. "That's disappointing, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Well... maybe the guy at the bar strikes up a conversation."

"Yes," Patrick said. "He should do that."

"And the girl likes the way he talks, kind of funny, kind of flirty, but not out of hand."

"What does he say?"

"Asks if she wants to sit down and have a drink with him. But she tells him she can't, she's with her friends. Which of course he already knew. So then he says, how about another time then? When she's not with her friends?"

"Mmm."

"And she's certainly tempted because she likes the way he talks and the way he looks and he has nice-looking hands."

"Hands?"

"Hands. Any objection to hands?"

"No... hands."

"Good," Linda said. She was rocking against him now, rubbing against his cock. "But she tells him, I've got a boyfriend."

"Oh."

"But he just smiles and says, Oh I was thinking just the two of us." She leaned down and kissed him again. "So what do you think?"

"Think?"

"Should she give him her phone number?"

"Um..."

"Because if she does and he calls... it would be another thing to think about, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," Patrick agreed.

"Another night to leave her boyfriend at home tied to the bed."

Patrick swallowed. "Yes."

"She could always tell her boyfriend she's meeting her friends."

"Right."

"And then come back afterward and... what would she tell her boyfriend?"

Patrick was not thinking clearly. "I don't know," he said.

"I mean... if she just went and had a drink with him, no harm done, right?"

"Right."

"But what... If it turns out that she really likes him? And like they did more, if they kissed, for instance. Would she have to confess that?"

"I don't know," Patrick said again.

"What if they fucked?" Linda said. She was staring down into Patrick's eyes. "Do you think her boyfriend would want to know that?"

Patrick paused. "I think he would," he said slowly.

"She could just come home and tie up his other hand and... take off her clothes and get on top of him. And when he is good and hot, she can start to tell him about the interesting evening she's had."

"Yes," Patrick said.

"Would he like that? Her boyfriend, I mean?"

Patrick swallowed again. "I think he'd want her to enjoy herself," he said softly. "If he loved her."

"That's a good point," Linda agreed. She had moved her position now and his cock was poised right at her entrance, the tip just touching her outer lips. "Tell me, Patrick. Do you like it when I enjoy myself?"

"I love it," he said fervently.

"I thought you did," Linda said. She sighed. "Would you like me to fuck you now?"

"Yes," he said.

"Yes what?" she asked him.

"Yes, please," he told her.

"Mmm, yes," she said. "I think that would be nice." Slowly she lowered herself, taking him in. The warmth was incredible, Patrick strained at his restraints and his legs drove upward. He wanted to grab her, to hold her shoulders and pull her down on his cock.

"Easy, cowboy," she told him. "Or maybe I'm the cowgirl." She giggled. "Aren't you going to ask me if I gave him my number?"

"I... I thought it was just a story." Why were they talking? He wanted to just fuck. But he was tied down.

"Oh, that's right." She kissed him. "Aren't you going to ask me if she gave him her number?"

"Just fuck me," Patrick said.

"Just fuck me, please," Linda corrected him. She moved and his cock slid out of her.

"Yes, please, fuck me. Please." He was desperate.

She lowered herself on his cock again. "No coming until I'm ready," she warned him.

"No," Patrick said.

She wasn't ready for a while, not until she had really enjoyed herself thoroughly. When it was finally permitted, his orgasm was, as it always was when he was tied down on his back, a catharsis. He bucked and bellowed and coughed and finally stopped, drenched in sweat.

Linda wriggled and he popped out of her. She looked down at him.

"I didn't give him my number," she said. "But I sure thought about it."

--

If he loved her he would want her to enjoy herself. It was a hypothetical, about a fictitious girl and her nonexistent boyfriend. Except that maybe it wasn't.

Patrick spent a lot of time thinking about that scene in the bar. Linda laughing and flirting with the man who had been watching her. She'd been attracted. She hadn't given him her phone number. But Patrick felt a knot in his stomach when he thought about what she had said, "I sure thought about it." A knot in his stomach and a hardness further down. If she had gone through with it, had given the man her number, had met him for a date, what would that mean? What if she kissed him? He thought about it, pictured Linda kissing some nameless stranger. The image took on a life of its own. Linda lying back, naked, and the stranger burying his face between her legs. Linda arching her neck, crying out.

He wanted her to enjoy herself.

--

The following Wednesday was Chloe's birthday. Linda and her friends were meeting for drinks at the Matador again. Patrick wandered around the apartment while she got ready. It seemed to him that she was taking more trouble than usual over her appearance. She tried on and rejected several outfits before settling on a short blue dress with a pattern of small flowers and a deeply cut neck. A belt cinched in the waist so the fabric flared out above and below, outlining breasts and hips. She put a thin gold chain around her neck and found some strappy sandals. When she was fastening her earrings he came over and stood behind her, looking at them both in the mirror.

"Almost ready?" he asked. His throat felt dry.

She smiled. "Almost," she said.

He bent down and kissed her neck, resting his hands on her waist. He inhaled the scent of her hair. She turned in his arms and kissed him on the lips.

"You look fantastic," he ventured. "Special occasion?"

"Oh," she said, her eyes widening. "It's Chloe's birthday."

"Oh," he said. "Of course." But he didn't think that was the whole story. He kissed her. "You look great," he said again.

"Thank you," she said brightly. Her eyes were shining. "What about you? Shall we get the tethers?"

His heart was pounding and his cock was stiff. "Absolutely," he said.

"Good," she said, smiling. She reached down and squeezed him. "You get ready, now, you don't want to keep me waiting."

"No, ma'am," he assented.

In a few minutes he was bound, naked, looking at her while she fumbled in her purse, doing a last check. Check for what? He swallowed, wondering if she was taking condoms along, just in case.

"Linda,' he said.

"Mmm?" She zipped up her purse.

"I love you," he said.

She looked up. "Oh," she said. "I love you, too. So much." She came over to the bed and kissed him, her hair brushing his face. She reached over and stroked his cock.

"Have a good time tonight," he said. He swallowed. "Enjoy yourself."

She smiled. "Thanks," she said. "I plan to."

-

It was a long evening. Patrick could see the clock if he twisted up onto one elbow and he knew she was out later than usual. He tried to relax, to think of nothing in particular, but the images intervened. Linda laughing with her friends, then going over to the bar to get more sangria. The way her hips moved under the flare of the dress, the contour of her breasts. Linda talking to the guy, smiling at him. Flipping her hair back, the way she did. More smiling. Then what? Cut to Linda lying naked on her back?

He rolled in his bonds, snuck a brief fondle of his cock. If he just thought about her hard enough could he imagine what she was doing? No, just what he wanted to imagine she was doing.

The front door of the apartment opened. Linda's voice.

"I'm here," Patrick called.

And Linda was there, next to the bed. "Sorry I was so long," she said.

"It's okay," Patrick said. "You have a fun evening?"

"Amazing," Linda said. She grinned. "How about you?"

"Oh, you know," Patrick said. "Just hanging out."

Linda laughed. She kicked off her shoes. "Ouch," she said. "I'm going to have some giant blisters tomorrow."

"Dancing?" Patrick asked.

"Yes," she said. "A great DJ tonight." She blew him a kiss. "I'll be right there," she told him.

She turned and walked away, reaching back to unzip her dress. He saw her standing in the doorway of her closet, hanging up the dress. Her legs and ass were barre. No panties in sight. She unhooked her bra and then came over to the bed.

"I can't believe you just lie here like that all evening," she told him. She lay down next to him.

"Tell me," he said. "What happened?"

She kissed him. "What's your rush?" she said. "Good things come to those who wait."

He was quiet. She laughed softly and then got up on her knees and lowered herself on top of him, straddling one of his thighs with her legs. Her cunt felt warm against his leg.

"So," she said. "It was Chloe's birthday, so things were a little crazier than usual." She leaned down and kissed him.

"Was he there?"

"He?"

"The guy in the bar from last time."

"Actually," Linda said. "He was. I wasn't sure if he would be but he was in the same spot as last time."

Patrick waited. "Did you talk to him?"

Linda kissed him again. "Oh yes," she said. "I sat down and talked to him for a while. He's a very nice guy, his name's Carlo."

Patrick didn't want to know his name.

"He's got lovely hands, too," Linda said.

"You said that last time."

"Did I? Well, he still has lovely hands. He's a piano player, plays jazz at some of the downtown clubs."

Patrick didn't have anything to say to this.

"What else did you want to know?" Linda asked.

"Did he... did you give him your number?"

Linda kissed him again. "Yes," she said. "Any objection?"

Patrick thought about this. "No objection," he said.

"Good," Linda said. "It didn't seem like you would object." She reached down and gripped his cock. "And anyway..."

"Anyway?"

"I think I want you inside me for this part," Linda said. She wiggled up and positioned herself, then slid down, taking him in. "Ah," she said. "That's very nice."

Patrick swallowed. "You need to tell me," he said softly.

"I'm getting to it," Linda told him. She rocked slowly against his cock. "You see... I really, really like his hands. I wanted his hands... on me."

Patrick swallowed.

"It was noisy in the bar and he wanted to talk so we went for a walk. It's a nice evening."

"Yeah.'

"We held hands," Linda said. She leaned down and kissed Patrick again. "You know how i like that. Mmm. I like this too." She wiggled her hips.

"Yes," Patrick said.

"And just when i was about to feel like my feet were getting tired and I wanted to go back, it turned out that we were across the street from his apartment building."

"Quite a coincidence," Patrick said.

"Maybe not," Linda said. "He invited me up."

"Of course."

"And I went."

There was a pause.

"I don't know..." Linda began.

"No," Patrick said. "'Just tell me."

"It's okay?"

"I told you," said Patrick. "I like it when you enjoy yourself."

"That's good," LInda said. "I like it myself." She sighed. "It was quite a beautiful apartment," she began.

"I don't..."

"Don't need to hear about the apartment?"

"No," Patrick sank his teeth gently into her shoulder.

"Oh my," she said. "I guess I better stick to the important facts if I don't want to be devoured."

"So," Patrick said impatiently.

"So when we got up to his place I kicked off my shoes. I told him about the dancing and how my feet were sore." Linda was rocking, slowly and methodically. "This really is the best feeling," she told Patrick.

"And then?"

"And then he got down on the floor and started to massage them."

Patrick didn't say anything.

"It felt quite nice," Linda told him. "He has..."

"Good hands."

"Yes."

Patrick paused. "What next?" he asked.

Linda kissed him again. "It was lovely having him massage my feet," she said. "And then my legs."

"I figured," Patrick said. "And then?"

"Don't be in such a hurry," Linda told him. "I wasn't sure about what then. I was really enjoying the leg massage. He didn't rush it, spent lots of time on each muscle, my feet, my calves. He didn't just go zooming up like some people might."

"Were you feeling... turned on?"

"Not at first," Linda said. "I was honestly kind of scared. I didn't know him very well. I thought... I don't know what I thought. But after a while, I started to relax and just enjoy his hands on me. He started to push my thighs apart, gently, and I said... wait a minute."

"Oh?" Patrick asked.

"Yes," Linda said. "I told him I didn't want to have sex with him, not yet. I didn't know him well enough."

"What did he say?"

"He said that was fine. He just wanted to massage the rest of my legs."

"Ha," Patrick said.

"Yes, well," Linda said. "That was fine actually. As long as he wasn't going to push me too far... you know?"

"So what did you do?"

"I just relaxed, let him push my legs open and work on my thighs."

Patrick paused. "I noticed just now..."

"No panties?"

"Yeah."

"He got to a certain point," Linda said. "When I didn't want him to stop. Didn't want him to fuck me, but wanted him to touch me. Touch me there, if you know what I mean."

Patrick was feeling dizzy. "So you..."

"I told him to wait a sec, then I pulled off my panties and tossed them aside. I told him again i didn't want to have sex and he said that was fine. And he started to touch me."

Patrick paused. "Was it nice?" he asked.

"So good," Linda told him. "Amazingly good. And he... kissed me there and licked me." She kissed Patrick. "I came. Multiple times." She was staring down into his eyes. "It was... amazing."

Patrick stirred. "Can you unhook my other wrist?"

"Sure," Linda said. She leaned over and undid the tether. Patrick sighed and folded his arms around her.

"Tell me again," he whispered. "While you fuck me."

"I went to his house," Linda said. "And he started to massage my legs."

Patrick was pushing down on the mattress with his feet so that Linda was riding him. "He wanted to fuck you," he whispered.

"I think he did," Linda whispered back. "It felt so good, his hands on my feet and legs. And then..."

"Then you took them off," Patrick said. "Your panties."

Linda was rocking harder now. "Yes," she gasped.

"So your cunt was open," Patrick said. "For him to touch you."

"Yes," Linda said.

"Did he touch you?"

"Yes."

"Did he lick you?"

"Jesus," Linda cried. "I'm coming..."

"He licked you!" Patrick cried. "Did he slide inside you? With his fingers?"

"Yes!"

"While he was licking you?"

"Oh God... so good."

"He made you come!"

"Yes! Jesus..."

Patrick was gripping her shoulders. "Tell me!" he insisted.

"I came,"Linda whimpered. "Oh God." She slowed down then writhed. "Patrick... I... wanted to fuck him."

"But you didn't?"

"No, I... he was so hard I had to... I sucked him. Until he... oh my God. Until he came. He came."

Patrick's hips were thudding on the bed. "You sucked him until he came!"

"Yes!"

"You wanted... you wanted to fuck him!"

"Oh my God. I'm coming again..."

Patrick bellowed. "God!" He felt himself pouring into her. She writhed again.

"Oh," she cried. "Oh Patrick."

--

They were lying naked and both untethered on the bed, curled with Patrick's arms around her. Patrick kissed her ear.

"That was fantastic," he murmured.

"Mmm," Linda agreed sleepily.

"Linda?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you going to..." He paused."Are you going to see him again?"

"Carlo?"

"Yeah."

Linda paused. "I might," she said. "Maybe once or twice." She rolled towards him. "Is that okay?"