The Next Game

Jessie fumbled with the key as she tried to open her front door, scratching the metal plate around the lock. As she tried to focus her drunk mind on the simple task, his strong hands turned her around for a deep kiss. She giggled against his mouth, standing on her tiptoes to reach her face to his.

Once inside, Jessie kicked her shoes off in the hallway leading to the sitting room, gesturing for… shit, what was his name again? Doesn’t matter. Anyway, gesturing for him to take a seat on the sofa whilst she fetched wine.

From the doorway Jessie watched him. Rather than sitting down he looked around at the art on the walls, at the books on her shelves. He was younger than her by about ten years, and very handsome. Early twenties, she guessed. It made Jessie feel good to have been picked up like this by some young stud. It made her feel slutty, excited, and quite exciting. The friends she had gone drinking with had been defensive at first, blocking the guy out of the conversation until he had gradually, skilfully won them all around. Then his attention was all for Jessie, and they had talked, and laughed and drank until all she could think about was fucking him.

Broad shoulders, slim waist. Strong jaw, dark hair, intense blue eyes, deep voice. She knew she was pretty attractive, knew that she was in good shape. But this guy was hot!

She staggered to the bathroom and lifted her skirt, pulling her knickers down a little and gave herself a quick wash. It had been hot and sticky in the club, and she very much wanted to taste good if he did go down on her. She washed and dried her armpits and cleavage, then sprayed perfume liberally before tidying her clothes and straightening her hair. She looked at herself in the mirror, pouted a little. She looked a little tired, but still not bad for 30ish, she thought. She turned her face to the left, looked at her angular jaw and fine lips. 'Go get him,' she told herself quietly. 'You are gorgeous, and he wants you.'

Back in the sitting room with a bottle of pinot and two glasses he turned to smile at her. He was still standing in the centre of the floor as she carefully placed the bottle down on the little table next to the sofa.

‘Drink?’ she asked.

‘Sure,’ he replied in his deep voice. Jessie felt her knees tremble a little.

Jessie tried to unscrew the cap of the wine before realising it had a cork. She grinned at him, trying to appear mischievous. ‘Shit,’ she laughed. ‘I need to get a thingy.’

‘A cork…’ he paused, just a beat. ‘Screw?’

She giggled again, not quite sure if he had actually emphasised that word or if it was in her mind, and tried to sway her hips as she turned from him and walked toward the kitchen.

Jessie opened the cutlery drawer in her kitchen island, but then realised the corkscrew was in the other one, the one with the spatulas and wooden spoons. Closing the drawer again, she felt his hands on her shoulders. His right hand pulled the shoulder strap of her top to the side and his lips touched her neck. She moved her head to the side, baring her neck to him as she moaned softly.

Still behind her, he reached to her waist and lifted the top up over her head. As he undid her bra clasp he bit Jessie’s neck gently, then cupped both of her breasts, his arms slipping beneath hers.

Jessie planted her palms on the kitchen island, then gasped as he pinched her nipples hard between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. God, this felt good. She could feel his cock pressing against her bottom, and she wanted so much for him to fuck her right here. One of his big hands reached up to stroke her head, then he twisted her hair in his palm and pushed her down against the counter. Bent at the waist, hands still pressed against the cold surface, she felt him pull her skirt and knickers down to her ankles. The air felt cool on her skin as he stood again and reached to take her wrists, pulling them around to the small of her back. Jessie felt so wet, she just couldn’t wait to feel that cock inside her.

She opened her eyes, panicking a little, as she felt cold metal against her wrists and heard a sharp rasping sound behind her. Handcuffs? This was getting out of control, she thought, but his strong hand pressed between her shoulder blades preventing her from standing.

She suddenly felt very vulnerable, bent at the waist with her skirt and panties around her ankles, and then he leaned forward to whisper in her ear ‘I’m so sorry, Jessie.’