The Chair

My fingers flexed and clawed at the boards beneath them, my brain jumbled with sex-induced thoughts that drowned out my questions. I was literally his slave. There was no resisting him, not that I wanted to. And there was no denying the heat coming off the wood now. It wasn't painful. Rather, it reminded me of the benches in a sauna. The temperature having increased with the arousal in the room...in us. And the whole thing seemed to pulse, as though it had a beating heart of its own. Feeding off our desire.

He continued to harden the longer he was in my mouth. My moans increased until he yanked on my hair and shook his head when our eyes met.

I whimpered, slobbering around him. Wanting so much more, although something in my head kept saying I shouldn't be doing anything at all. I barely even knew the man.

After some time, he released the belt and helped me stand. Only to have me kneel on the seat facing the back of the chair. To my horror, he secured each wrist in the cuffs still dangling from the metal balls, leaving me staring at the severed heads.

I'd just closed my eyes to block out the vision when I felt him moving the back piece of my skirt aside. I bit my lip and yanked on the handcuffs at his fingers grazing over my pussy from behind. My whole body shuddered, and I hung from my arms for a moment before I could catch my balance and sit upright on my knees again. When his fingers stroked again, deeper...with more pressure...I tensed up.

The moment I gasped loudly, he shoved the belt between my teeth and wrapped it around the back of my head like a gag. The taste of leather filled my mouth, and I drooled down my chin while trying to breathe, swallow, and keep my brain focused on his intensifying touch. Beneath my knees, the leather piece scorched my skin, just slightly below the point of pain.

I came while at least two of his fingers plunged rapidly into my drenched pussy and I stared at those bloody heads. I was still shaking when he pulled the G-string aside and slid his cock into me in one long thrust that had my back bowing. My breasts pressed against the costume's hard bra and the wooden back of the chair, the sharpness of the plastic digging into my skin making me squeal.

He didn't give me a chance to catch my breath before he repeatedly yanked my hips back onto him, his grunts muffled behind me.

God, he felt so good! He stretched and filled while my inner muscles massaged his cock. I gripped the metal balls above the cuffs, trying to focus on reaching that precipice he seemed to be leading me to.

Just when I thought I was going to fall over, he stopped and pulled out. I wanted to scream in frustration. I pressed my forehead against the back of the chair before I realized I was leaning on the doll heads. I threw my head back in a muffled curse and hissed, my body tensing up again.

Below me, Devon had latched onto my pussy with his mouth. His tongue was wreaking havoc on my clit. Each flick...each suck...had my body undulating above, shivering with anticipation and delight. Then his fingers came into play, stroking both outside and then in. Coaxing me to that release. All while I bit down on the leather strap of his belt.

When it finally came, I could express no sounds. I just hung onto the chair and stared at the ceiling with wide eyes and tethered mouth. Still, he pressed on.

I don't know when he stopped licking and fingering me. I just recall him lapping at my release, and then he was staring me in the eyes... Except I was still kneeling on the chair, facing the back.

His hardness slid inside me, and his hands held my hips down while he thrust upwards.

After several minutes, the belt fell away, and I struggled to swallow without the obstruction. Then my breasts were released from their plastic cage only to be encased in the warmth of his large palms. He held them tight while he suckled and teased with his teeth and tongue. Then our mouths found each other again, and his thumbs took over the job of plying my nipples.

Our fucking slowed down exponentially until I was barely rocking over him. I realized he was still wearing his shirt and pants. That my skirt and panties were still on although shoved to the side. And my hands were still cuffed to the chair.

The tighter the knot inside me twisted, the more my body tried to arch away within the limited space allowed by the bindings. My back first and then my head. But Devon pulled on the chain so that I was further restrained and staring at him.

His thrusts grew more deliberate. Harder. Deeper. And his other hand snaked beneath me from behind and massaged the muscles of my inner thigh right below my ass.

"Can't...hold...on..." I managed to mumble before my eyes rolled back.

Then I was shaking. Hearing his rapid panting that almost matched mine. Feeling his lips latch onto my breast and his hands on my lower back.

I just seemed to flop in the air as I straddled his waist in the ugliest chair I'd ever seen, unable to make any intelligible noises except short grunts and gasps.

I was still floating and trembling from minor aftershocks when he unhooked my hands and disengaged long enough to carry me to my bedroom.

Devon lay behind me, spooning my body. Slowly sliding back inside while stroking my pussy from the front. Sending me back into the stratosphere where I trembled noiselessly in his arms as I came undone.

At some point, I felt him withdraw and release on my hip. He held me under the covers, idly caressing my body. And then a dreamless sleep took over.

###

Late the next morning, I woke alone in bed wearing just the bottom half of my costume. The top was on the floor with my mask. After donning some real clothes, I wandered into the living room and stopped with my hand to my chest.

The macabre decoration looked untouched: the skeleton back in the position it had been in during the party. Including the propped-up dildo. The wood was also cool to the touch with no evidence that it had been burning and throbbing like a living creature mere hours ago. And a second glance at my knees and palms showed no scars either, despite the intensity of the heat by the time we'd abandoned the chair.

I ran to the kitchen and gulped down a glass of cold water. What the hell? Was Macy playing a sick joke on me?

My eyes landed on the trash bag in the corner. Just where I'd left it last night. At least that had been real. Because my sister wasn't one to actually pick up after herself. Or dispose of the results of a party.

After struggling to wrap my head around what had happened since last night, I grabbed my keys and huffed the bulging bag out into the hall. That's when I saw Devon coming down the stairs carrying a medium-sized brown box with the top flaps folded in that way one does for personal storage.

"Thanks for a good time," I smiled, my spirits lifting and my pussy twitching with residual memories.

He stopped a few steps down from the last landing and blinked at me, his eyebrows furrowed. Then he started his descent again.

"What? You can suddenly have sex with me at night, but you can't say a fucking word to me in the light of day? What an asshole."

His eyes grew wide and his cheeks bright red. "I'm sorry, Miss. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Cut the bullshit. There's no way you could forget what we did. The chair? The belt? Or maybe you're just a callous man."

"You must have the wrong man."

"I highly doubt that." I crossed my arms, my patience so thin it could rip to shreds any second.

"I can assure you. We've never met before."

"There's only one dark-haired man that's five-nine with green eyes and a dimple in his chin like yours in this building. If you didn't enjoy the sex, just say so instead of pretending like it didn't happen."

He jostled the box against his hip and gave me a sad smile. "Are you, by chance, Izzy?"

"Yes..." I raised an eyebrow and pursed my lips.

"I'm Brandon. My twin brother told me all about you." He laughed softly. "Devon was very fond of you, Miss Izzy. I can see why."

"What do you mean? He hasn't said boo to me in the four years he's lived here. Though he always dresses up as the Phantom and comes to my Halloween party. Last night was no exception."

"I'm sorry. I don't know who you were with last night, but it couldn't have been Devon. And he didn't speak to anyone, so please don't take it personally."

"I'm not following."

"He was struck by lightning when he was eight. Been legally deaf ever since. The whole family got proficient in ASL as a result. He had hearing aids, but he refused to wear them unless he was driving or going to be in large crowds where it would be hard to read lips or sign."

"I still don't understand. Last night—"

"Izzy, Devon died two weeks ago. He had a heart attack in his sleep while we were vacationing up north. He'd been on the transplant list for years after complications from his injuries. Living on borrowed time, according to the doctor. My parents got the call after we'd all gone to bed that there was a heart for him. When they went to wake him so we could leave, he was already gone."

My chest was suddenly very tight, and I couldn't breathe, much less speak.

Brandon shook his head and sighed heavily. "Strangest thing. Just before dinner, Devon had told me that if it weren't for his bad heart, he would've liked to get to know you better."

Tears stung my eyes, and I blurrily watched the man before me back away with his box.

"Again, I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Izzy. I didn't mean to startle you or make you upset. I'm just here cleaning out his place. I'm done now, so take care."

I dropped the trash bag and stumbled into the railing while I watched the doppelganger of the man I'd been in complete bliss with walk out of the lobby. Gripping the end post, I sat down heavily on the third step. Ice seemed to flow through my veins as the outside door banged shut.

Had I fucked a ghost? Or had it all just been an erotic dream sent to me from an unknown love in the great beyond via an ancient vessel?

~ H