L'Affaire C. 10

"Ugh," Jack muttered, dropping his briefcase on the floor just inside the door. Ally was stretched out on the living room floor, her right leg in the air and her left arm holding onto her right foot. Her back was arched with the strain, the fabric of her pink tank top stretched tightly across her chest, grey shorts that managed to cover her lass but not by much. Her tank top was wet under her breasts and down her abdomen; her shorts were wet exactly where they shouldn't be wet when he wasn't around. He felt himself grow hard immediately.

"What the fuck?" he asked, looking at her left leg, long and lean, stretched along the floor. "You're dripping sweat."

Ally shook her head. "Not anymore. I just got back from hot yoga. Just practicing a pose my instructor showed me today."

"Did you wear that to yoga?" Jack asked, trying to keep his tone even.

Ally frowned. "It's so hot in that room, Jack. This is as much clothes as my body can handle."

Jack shook his head and made his way over to her. She looked...flexible. He knelt down next to her, ran his fingers up the inside of her left leg, across her pussy, and up her right leg. "And he just showed you this pose? Or did he put his hands on you and help you." Jack moved his face closer to hers, dragging his lips across hers.

"He touched me," Ally admitted in a whisper, unsure whether she should put her leg down or not. She felt warmth flood back into her body, starting in the path his fingers had drawn, concentrating between her legs. She tingled between her legs, a nagging ache growing. She'd been asleep by the time he got home every other night this week, and it felt like it had been ages since he'd been inside her, had his hands on her, holding her down, pulling her up, pinching and teasing and caressing.

"Where?" Jack asked, nonchalantly.

Ally shivered as he tucked his fingers inside of her tank top, and brought it down, exposing a breast. The cold air against her nipple felt delicious. Ally licked her lips, "On my thighs."

Jack left her breast out, moved his hands down, settled one her left leg just above her knee, the other on the back of her right leg, just above her knee. "Here?" he asked, kissing her neck. Ally shook her head. "Tell me where to move each hand."

"Move your right hand up, and inward, toward my inner thigh." Jack moved his right hand up three inches, curved it along her leg till it sat comfortably on the inside of her thigh. "Here?" he asked.

"Higher," Ally whispered in a throaty whisper. Jack slid his hand up an inch. "Higher." Another inch. "More." Jack slid his hand up, and when his thumb touched the bottom of her shorts she said, "There."

"Now my left. Should my left hand be inside your thigh too?"

Ally shook her head. "No."

"So my left hand is in the right place?" Her mouth had fallen open, and he realized his right thumb was rubbing her, sliding up under the hem of her shorts, then back out at the end of it's arch. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Ally's hips kicked forward slightly, almost involuntarily. She gasped and bit down on her lip. "No."

"Where should I move it?"

"Down my thigh."

Jack slid his hand down her skin slowly, and she squirmed a little. "Tell me when."

His hand made it just inches above the curve of her ass before she whispered "There". Her body had started trembling with the strain of the Compass Pose.

"What a lucky man. Did he have his hands on all of his students today?"

Ally shook her head, feeling pressure building. She needed a release. She'd given in and brought herself to orgasm with the detachable shower head yesterday, had sat on the edge of the tub with her legs spread wide, let the water wash over her clit until she bucked and came, but it hadn't been enough. Not knowing if Jack would be home tonight, she had made plans to pull out her vibrator tonight.

"No."

"Just you?"

"No. Someone else, too."

"Did he have his hands within inches of her pussy?"

"No."

"Just within inches of your pussy."

"Just mine."

Jack slid his right hand up, pressed it against her sex, rubbed his thumb against her. "Did you want him to do this? Did you want his hand over your pussy like this?"

Ally's head fell back as he swept over her clit. "No."

"Who do you want to touch you there?"

"You, Jack." She breathed, her thighs aching from the stretch, both nipples hard, her exposed nipple tingling under his hot breath. He darted his tongue out, licking her nipple.

"Is that because that's my pussy?"

"Yes."

Jack took his hands off her, sat back on his knees. "That's a good girl. You can relax now."

Ally sighed in relief as she opened her right hand, letting her left leg fall. Letting the leg down might have hurt worse. Her pussy throbbed, begged to be touched.

"Take your hair down."

Ally slid out her ponytail, letting her read hair fall down her shoulders.

"Take off the shorts," Jack said, his eyes taking her in. Her face was flushed pink, her breathing heavy, the angle of her hips expectant. Ally stood, slid her shorts down her legs, revealing a red sating thong.

"Take off the panties."

Ally complied, letting the panties fall at her feet before she stepped out of them.

"Now the tank top."

Once the tank top was off she was completely naked. She'd gone to class without a bra, and his cock throbbed at the thought of every man she passed seeing her, and wanting her. But she was his.

"No go into the bedroom, and lay down on our bed. Put your arms over your head and grab the headboard. Hold onto the headboard and don't let go. Spread your thighs wide, wide enough that you can feel the air against your pussy, and leave them open. Wait for me."

Ally nodded, turned and walked into the bedroom. Jack stood, moved to the couch, and turned on the TV. He went into the kitchen, and grabbed a beer. It was torture not going to her, but it was an exquisite torture, knowing she was in there on the bed they shared, her legs splayed, waiting for him. He thought absently that he should go in and tie her hands in play, so that she couldn't touch herself, couldn't relieve the pressure he knew he had built, but he knew she wouldn't.

He made himself sit on the couch through an episode of a painfully cheesy sitcom, then another. He spent some time channel surfing, found an HBO special about the adult Entertainment expo and watched for a while. Nothing thrilling, everything predictably blurred.

**

After the first fifteen minutes on the bed, Ally was near orgasm, just as Jack intended. The anticipation curled inside her, made her shift her hips, made her almost, but only almost, reach a hand down to give herself the relief she craved. She thought about it all. She thought about what he would do when he came to her. Would he release her immediately? Slide between her legs, slide his face against her pussy and lap at her clit until her world exploded and she came against his mouth? It was the least likely scenario? She thought about how good it would feel to reach for her vibrator, all pink and big and filling, and shove it into her sopping pussy before allowing her fingers to find her clit?

When he came in would he find her on the bed, see that she had disobeyed, and make her roll over onto her knees? Would he tie up her hands? Spank her? He was possessive, bossy, easy to annoy. Would he get off on punishing her for disobeying him? Ally closed her eyes and tried to picture how it would feel to be spanked by Jack. She'd had a guy spank her during sex before, but that ended up being kind of half-assed and weird. Jack would never half-ass anything, but still the idea of him spanking her bare ass didn't do anything for her. But his belt? If he came in and tugged his belt out of his pants? Ally shuddered, felt herself become so wet that moisture collected, and she felt a drip slide between her legs, toward her ass. It tickled, and she squirmed, wanting desperately to wipe it away.

Would she like it if he cracked a belt against the backs of her thighs or the curve of her ass? Hard leather like a whip slapping across her thighs, reddening the skin and sending a rush of air at her pussy? She'd never been one to enjoy pain, and it would likely make her cry, but the thought of it—the thought of submitting to him and his belt, still tantalized her.

So much else could happen. He could come in with twine and tie her hands, so that if she struggled the thin cord would bite into her skin. Would she struggle just to feel it? After he'd tied her hands he could pull out his dick and let himself come, jerk himself off over her until he came all over her breasts and stomach. He might lay down after that, sated, while she ached for release.

She imagined him falling asleep while she couldn't relax enough to sleep, too aroused and wound up. He might then wake up in the morning; see that she finally had fallen asleep, out of pure exhaustion. He would wake her up by tickling the inside of her thighs, and she would open her eyes. He might have a camcorder, might be filming her there, tied to the bed dried cum on her, becoming aroused again before she was even fully awake. They didn't have a camcorder. Did his phone have video? She wouldn't say anything during it, because he hadn't told her she could speak.

She had the day off work tomorrow, and the next day. Maybe he would jack off onto her again, maybe this time into her mouth, letting a little flow onto her face, while he filmed her swallow his load. He would leave her there again, tied to the bed, and go to work. Maybe he'd sneak away at lunch and 'let' her suck him off this time, coming into her mouth while her pussy throbbed.

It took hours before he came to her, still in his button down shirt and suit pants. He looked so aroused he was animalistic, and she knew she wasn't the only one tortured by his game. His eyes were dark with desire when he came to her.