She nearly fainted when the ice cube touched her clit. She imagined it turning to steam instantly. The heat of her body mixed with the cold of the ice made her shake uncontrollably. Nichole felt her clit harden just like her nipples at the touch of the ice. In ecstasy, she rolled her head back and forth on the pillow. Nichole moaned. Under the blindfold, she saw stars as the fireworks started.
Then, as quickly as the icy touch started, it was gone, replaced by the warmth of Michael's mouth. On her clit. She reflexively tried to sit up, but her bonds held and she collapsed back on to the bed. Already super-sensitive from Michael's earlier treatment, Nichole's clit exploded with pleasure as his hot mouth enveloped her steaming sex, sopping up ice water and her wetness alike.
Nichole cried out again as she felt something else cold enter her where Michael's warm fingers had been. She didn't know what it was but made her head throb and she nearly fainted again. The object was almost as long as Michael's cock, just as wide and ice cold. It had a bulbous head that aroused her insides while her lover assaulted the outside of her sex with his mouth.
She could feel him turn the thing in her pussy into a piston as he sucked and nibbled on her clit. Nichole moaned and grunted in time with Michael's tongue as it lashed against her, only to be replaced by his teeth raking against her sex.
"That feels so good," Nichole moaned. "Oh, God! That feels so good . . . I'm about to cum, please don't stop . . . please don't stop . . . please . . ."
As he worked her pussy over, Michael reached up and squeezed one of his lover's breasts. It sent her over the edge. With an ear shattering scream, Nichole lost herself to the orgasm. It consumed her.
She bucked her hips against his mouth. She felt her pussy flood with cum, which Michael lapped up and devoured. She pulled against her ties, wanting to pull Michael's mouth harder against her, but to no avail.
Nichole screamed. And moaned. She was in heaven.
Her orgasm subsided, but didn't stop. Michael wouldn't let it. Still working the rod in her pussy, Michael kissed his way up to Nichole's face and kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips.
Her tongue entwined his. Their teeth knocked together and their lips bit and nibbled at each other.
She felt him climb on top of her. How she wanted to put her arms around him. The rod was removed from her pussy. Michael pushed himself up until he was on his knees.
Nichole felt something rub against her clit. His cock. Warm. Hard. She moaned with desire.
She tried to wrap her legs around his waist, as if to pull him inside her. But he pushed her legs apart.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Michael's cockhead took over for his hand.
"Michael," Nichole cried out. "I need you inside me."
"You do?" She felt him bend over and his mouth locked on to one of her breasts. He continued to rub his sex against hers.
"How do you ask?" He slapped his cock against her clit.
"Please, Michael!" she said, desperately.
"Please, what?" He slapped her again with his cockhead.
"Please fuck me," Nichole sobbed. Her desire overpowered her. Her need was insatiable. Her voice was but a plaintive whisper. "Please fuck me, Michael. Please . . ."
"Of course, my love." Michael kissed her tenderly, wiping away the tears that fell out from under her blindfold.
Her mouth fell open as she felt his head push into her. She arched her back as his cock penetrated her ravenous sex. Slowly. It seemed to never end.
She gasped as she felt his cock all the way in her. He kissed her again, his tongue penetrating her mouth as his cock penetrated her pussy.
Again, she tried to put her arms around him, but she could not. She wanted to envelope him in her embrace. To pull him close. To give him the pleasure he gave her.
Michael began to pump his cock in and out of her slowly at first, then faster. And harder.
Nichole felt another orgasm begin to build. Or was it a continuation of her first one? She didn't care.
The tingling sensation increased. She could hear Michael breathing hard and moaning. She felt his cock moving inside her.
In and out. In and out.
Michael took her legs and spread them wide, then put her calves on his shoulders and began to drive his cock into her. With every stroke, there was a sharp slap! as the hilt of his hard sex connected with her and a shiver ran up her spine.
Nichole pulled futilely against her bonds. Tears of desire and lust flowed down her cheeks as another orgasm cascaded over her.
She cried out in pleasure as her whole body seemed to catch fire. It started in her toes. Michael pumped faster and harder. His hands went to her breasts. They squeezed and pinched. He kneaded them together. All the while using his cock like a hammer on her pussy.
Nichole thrashed underneath him, overcome with passion. She tried to buck her hips against him. The ties held her down and Michael steadied her, but she felt freed, released as she came all over Michael's cock, buried deep in her sex.
Under the blindfold, she saw stars as she peaked. It was like having an out of body experience. She heard herself scream. She felt her heart pounding its way out of her chest. She felt her pussy throbbing, contracting. Wild spasms wracked her body. She cried out again.
With a final sob, Nichole mercifully blacked out.
She didn't hear his final moan, nor did she feel his cum shooting inside her.
When she came to, she could only hear her heart still pounding in her chest. She felt Michael next to her. She felt his hand running along her body. His touch was comforting.
Nichole moved her arms. They were stiff, but Michael had undone the knots. Finally released, she put her arms around him and held him close. Her body still tingled from head to toe.
She opened her eyes and blinked back the light. It was dark, the room only lit by the stars, but after being under the blindfold for so long, it still took her some time to adjust.
"Hello, lover," Michael returned her embrace.
"Not long," he smiled. "Just a couple of minutes."
"What did you do to me? I can't move."
"Good." He kissed her tenderly. She closed her eyes. The musky aroma of sex permeated the room.
"Where did you learn how to do that?"
"Your brother bought me The Complete Idiots Guide to Amazing Sex last year as a birthday present. I think he thought I was spending too much time at work."
"I don't know if I should thank him or kill him."
She jumped when she felt his hand touch her still swollen, still sensitive clit. "Hey! Stop that!"
"What's wrong?" Michael said teasing. "Can't keep up with an old man?"
He attacked her again. And again.
Nichole put Terra's pictures away. It was nearly dark. The apartment was quiet. She hated this time of night. It was right about the time when she and Michael would come home and have dinner together. She half expected him to walk through the door and tell her the last year had been a horrible dream.
She knew she was hungry but didn't want to eat. She knew she was lonely but didn't want to by around anyone else.
Stop this! Nichole scolded herself. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.
Nichole put the stuffed penguin back on the bed and walked to the kitchen. She picked up the phone and dialed.
"Hello, Terra? Where are you guys? Great, I'm starving. I'll meet you there in 10 minutes."
Five months after getting engaged, Michael and Nichole were married. For anyone else a three week courtship may seem like a very short time, but in reality, the two spent 23 years getting to know each other; just no one knew they were supposed to end up together.
They tried to keep the wedding small, and for the most part, they succeeded. The wedding itself was low key and intimate. It's the guest list that couldn't be pared down. Ernie and John invited not only family, extended family and friends, but all of the company employees, who were basically extended family and friends.
Nichole did most of the planning, not because she was obsessed with her wedding, but because she knew Michael didn't care about most of the details and because she knew he trusted her not to go too far over the top. There was a small list of things for him to do, and he did all of them without complaint and in his usual efficient manner. She also had a very capable (and willing) compatriot in Michael's secretary who made most of the calls and did the bulk of the hard work, often on her own time.
When the day of the wedding came around, all the preparations had been made, everything was paid for and all Nichole and Michael had to do was show up.
Like every other day they were together, Nichole woke up with Michael's arms holding her tight. She rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He was still asleep. He looked so peaceful.
The morning sun shone through the windows. Nichole lifted her head and tried to quietly leave the bed, but Michael was a light sleeper. He caught her hand.
"Where are you going?"
"I've got plans for today," Nichole smiled playfully. She kissed him.
"You do?" Michael said, in feigned shock. He pulled her close. His hand strayed to her naked body. "I have a better idea. Why don't we just spend all day in bed?"
"Because I can't spend all day screwing my boyfriend!" she laughed and slipped out of his grasp. She bounced teasingly into the bathroom. Michael heard the shower begin to run. He bounced in after her.
A short time later, cleaned, fed and dressed, Michael and Nichole sat on the couch, looking out their windows. They cherished the quiet together. Neither said a word. Both knew it would be a long day. Michael held her close. Nichole absently ran her fingertips over his arm.
There was a knock at the door.
"I love you, Nichole."
She stood up and kissed Michael on the cheek. "I love you, too."
Nichole went to the door. It was her sisters Emily and Melissa, Michael's sister Courtney and the maid of honour, Nichole's best friend Maureen.
They each gave Nichole and Michael a hug and a kiss.
"It's time to go, sis," Emily said. She patted Michael on the head and tussled his hair. "The next time you'll see her, you'll be getting married."
"I can't wait."
Melissa gave Michael a second hug. "It must be nice being a guy. All you have to do is put on a suit and a tie 10 minutes before the whole thing starts, and then you're done. No hair, no makeup."
Michael just grinned.
The five girls left, Nichole pausing for one more pre-nuptial kiss.
Then the apartment was quiet. Michael had been alone there before, but it seemed strange this time. This would be the last time he would be single and alone in this place, or in his life. Michael looked around the apartment and thought back to the transformation it had undergone over the last six months. Thought back to the transformation he had undergone over the last six months.
Nichole had brought him to life, out of the doldrums of his daily existence, out of the routine that had become his life. He laughed more, he was a better boss; he felt passion rather than obligation.
All around him were reminders of his love. Pictures, art, elegance. Everything a single guy's apartment lacks. Her touch was everywhere, and he was a better man because of it.
Michael sat on the couch, thinking how lucky he was when the phone rang. The caller ID showed Nichole's cell phone number.
"Hey, honey." She sounded like she was running. "Are you still on the couch?"
"Good. Are you dressed?"
"Not any more than when you left." Michael was puzzled.
"I'm almost to the elevator. I told the girls I left something in the apartment and just needed to run up and get it. Take your shorts off."
He listened to her catching her breath. He heard the elevator ding! Her next words made the hair on his neck stand up.
"I want you hard when I get up there." Then she hung up.
When the key hit the lock, Michael was stroking his cock in anticipation. The two enjoyed a lot of spontaneous sex, but there was something different in her voice. Hunger.
Nichole flung the door open. Michael turned over his shoulder to see his bride peeling off her sweatshirt. She wasn't wearing a bra.
She vaulted over the back of the sofa. Michael started to get up, but she pushed him back down. Instantly, she was on her knees in front of him.
Nichole took his hard cock in her hands and her mouth descended on it. Her lips locked around his head, then she took its entire length down her throat.
Michael's body went rigid. He gripped her shoulders. Nichole began bobbing her head up and down on his cock. Normally she would go slow, built him up, make him beg her to get him off. But not this time. She was on a mission.
After almost six months together, she new what made Michael tick. And what made him pop. She raked her teeth against the swollen head of his cock. She tickled the slit with her tongue. She nibbled on the soft spot right under his head that drove him crazy.
With the end of his cock in her mouth, Nichole used her hands on the rest. Up and down on his shaft. She cupped his balls and squeezed gently. Up and down some more.
Taking a quick glance up, Nichole saw Michael with his head thrown back, his eyes closed. His hands gripped a pillow to either side of him. His knuckles were white.
The combination of her lips, teeth and tongue were driving Michael crazy. She knew this. Any other time, she would have let him down from this point, just short of blasting his load in her mouth, only to bring him back again and again. Teasing.
She loved the power of giving a blow job. Most of the time, she liked being submissive to Michael. She trusted him. She loved him. Nichole liked to feel his weight on top of her. She liked the pleasure he brought her.
But sometimes, she enjoyed being in control. Being the fellatrix gave her that control.
With a sigh, Nichole bit softly on the bottom of his cockhead and sent Michael over the edge.
With a quick jerk, she took Michael's cock out of her mouth and pointed it straight at her chest. His engorged penis flared and shot steaming cum on to Nichole's breasts. Thick ropes of his seed sprayed out on her. His head continued to pulse. Using both hands, Nichole milked his cock, coaxing out every last drop of cum on to her exposed body.
When she was satisfied that there was none left for her, Nichole released his semi-flaccid cock and began to rub her lover's cum into her chest, around her collarbones and even up to her neck. Michael's cum was thick and warm. Her nipples were hard with excitement, and she indulgently pinched them. If her bridesmaids weren't waiting in a car downstairs, she might have mounted Michael and gotten herself off right there.
When all of Michael's cum was rubbed like lotion into her soft skin, Nichole stood up. Michael hadn't recovered. He was breathing heavy, his eyes were half-open, partly exhausted, seething with desire. His cock was slick with her saliva, twitching. She hated to waste a hard-on but she had to go.
She kissed him quickly on the cheek.
"I want to have you with me all day," she whispered in his ear.
As quickly as she came in, she was gone. Back out the door, pausing only to put her sweatshirt back on and wash her hands.
Then Michael was left alone in the apartment. Again.
Nichole met Terra at Yummy Sushi, one of their favourite sushi bars on the near Washington Square. Terra's boyfriend Gabriel was there, as were some of their mutual friends Julie, Mark and Laurie.
"What's with Julie and the tiara?" Nichole asked Terra.
"Today's her birthday and she thinks it's all about her," her cousin grinned. "Hey, later tonight we're going to a new club over near the Village; you're welcome to come with us if you want."
"I'll think about it," Nichole replied. "What's it called?"
"Leviathan. It just opened last week. It's apparently very hot. Mark made special arrangements with Naked Boys Singing to perform there especially for her."
"Sounds like fun."
Nichole and Michael had been regulars at this place and the sushi chef recognized her immediately. With a hearty greeting, he began sending food their way, no menu necessary. She always enjoyed the casual atmosphere here and the presence of her cousin and friends made Michael's absence a little less painful.
Nichole spent the rest of her morning getting her hair and makeup done. It seemed to fly by. By mid-afternoon, it was time to get dressed and head over to the church for pictures. Michael had his taken first with the wedding party, then it was her turn. They didn't have any pictures taken together until after the ceremony.
The wedding was in a small Episcopal church on the lower west side. The church was packed with their friends and family and largely devoid of any major wedding day complications.
As she walked down the aisle, arm in arm with her father, Nichole fixed her gaze on her love. He was so handsome in his simple black tuxedo. Even surrounded by people, she felt that the two of them were alone.
The ceremony was simple. Nichole and Michael wrote their own vows and exchanged rings. The pastor delivered a short homily. Tears flowed down her fathers cheeks as he gave away his daughter to a young man he loved as much his own children.
After the quick wedding, it was on to the dinner reception. It was also a wing-ding of a party, but unlike their engagement celebration, there was no escaping. John, who was paying for the party after all, rented a country club on Long Island for the reception and truly went all out for his son and new daughter.
Nichole and Michael made their way through the guests, taking some time to talk to each. She was a radiant bride and he, like most grooms, was an uncomfortable guy in a penguin suit. Her penguin.
There was dancing and laughter and family and well wishes and everything else that was part of the "perfect" wedding. Like most weddings, it truly was perfect. At least as far as Nichole and Michael were concerned. The food was excellent, the band was fun and everyone they cared about was there to help them start their new lives together. There was cake-cutting, pictures, dancing and bouquets.
All throughout the night, Nichole could still sense traces of Michael on her, despite the perfume and food and other scents. It both comforted her and turned her on. As they danced their first dance together, Nichole whispered in his ear, "You're still on my chest, Michael. I can smell you."
The look in Michael's eyes was one of pleasure and torment. Pleasure at the memory of the morning; torment at not being able to rip her dress off and fuck her senseless right there.
The party ended well after night fell. Finally, Ernie and Carole corralled the bride and groom into a waiting limousine and it was off to their hotel back in Manhattan.
The newlyweds were exhausted after a long day. Neither said word for a long time. The drive back to Manhattan was peaceful and quiet. Nichole rested her head on Michael's shoulder. They held hands.
The limousine took them to the Plaza Hotel, one of New York's oldest and most luxurious hotels, and literally a stone's throw from their apartment. The driver let them off and amidst cheers from the hotel staff and a handful of other guests, they new couple was escorted up to their suite.
Someone (probably Ernie) must have called ahead; their bags were unpacked, and a hot bath was already drawn. A bottle of champagne sat in a bucket of ice next to the bed. The bed was covered in rose petals. The bellhop congratulated them again and left before Michael could even offer to tip him. Michael picked Nichole up and carried her across the threshold to the bedroom.