Mardi Gras

hard-on into the center of her ass. She let out a sensual sigh, and rubbed lightly against him, unable to resist.
Reaching up to pull back her red locks, he lowered a tender kiss to the ultrasensitive skin on her neck, letting the sensation flutter down through her. Then he whispered in her ear, “I don’t mean to be a bad boy, but if you don’t come inside and have your way with me, I’m gonna push up your dress and fuck you on this balcony right now.”
She turned into his arms, her soft body raking against his hard one. Invisible sparks flew.
He drew her close against him with one hand, using the other to eagerly massage her breast. “Ooooh,” she purred, thinking— Oh God, yes, his hands were a welcome addition to this evening already.
Without a hint of hesitation, he tugged on her bodice until one taut nipple appeared above the fabric’s scalloped edge. Molding his hand beneath it, he bent to lick. She moaned in response, never giving a thought to whether anyone below could see what they were doing as she reached out and found his erection through his twill pants.
By the time he came up for air, they were both panting, hungering for more.
It was almost enough to make her abandon her plans—to just let him fuck her however came naturally, to just have normal, wild, writhing sex. There was even a part of her that wanted to submit to Ty, to find out what he would do to her if she let him.
But she’d liked the sense of control she’d felt last Saturday. She liked it and…well, she also thought maybe she needed it—to help her keep her false identity at the forefront, to ensure keeping her secret safe.
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Mardi Gras
So she pushed him away. “You are a bad boy,” she said pointedly, no humor in her voice. She motioned toward the open doors. “Go inside and prepare to take your punishment.”
She couldn’t read his look. Disappointment or excitement?
Either way, though, he withdrew from her and went inside as he was told, and recapturing that sense of power gave her the security she needed to maintain her ruse and press forward into another evening of hot sex with Ty.
Following him inside, her heels clicking across the floor, she reached behind her, unzipping her dress. She found Ty standing in the middle of the room, exactly where his wooden chair had been located last time, waiting and watching. Hooking her thumbs through her shoulder straps, she drew the dress off, shrugging free until it fell around her ankles. Her purple lace shelf bra was cut to expose her nipples, so they were both bared now. Her matching garter belt started at her hips, extending nearly to her thighs, cut to resemble a sinfully short miniskirt that barely revealed the crotch of the tiny thong she wore underneath.
She absorbed his long perusal of her body until he finally said, “You take my breath away.”
As before, she longed to go to him, just kiss him, just fuck him, but she held her ground—and her identity. “Do you think that makes up for your misbehavior? You promised you’d do exactly as I said, yet I did not tell you to come out on the balcony and rub your cock against me. I did not tell you to kiss my breast. You’ve been a very bad boy again, Ty.”
Her pussy swelled at the harsh reprimand, even if the dark sparkle in his eyes left her wondering if he was going to acquiesce this time. As much as she relished controlling him right now, the idea that he might not allow it made her cunt spasm further.
“Strip,” she demanded.
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Lacey Alexander
She took a seat on the sofa and met his gaze, which seemed to silently challenge her.
He’s going to fight me on this, she thought . He’s going to fight me, and what then? Who would win?
She had to. Because if she didn’t, if she turned weak and submissive, she might do something stupid—she might act like herself, she might sound like herself. She might even somehow look like herself. He might see something in her eyes or hear something in her voice that said Mia to him more than Mistress Mina.
So she glared at him, as if just daring him to argue with her. “Strip, I said.” His eyes narrowed and he looked almost angry, but finally, Ty slowly began to undress. He pulled his polo shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor, then discarded his pants, leaving him in only a pair of gray boxer briefs. His tremendous hard-on made a big tent in front, practically causing her mouth to water.
“All the way,” she said when he stopped there, then enjoyed the view as he pushed down his underwear and stepped free of them.
God, he was gorgeous naked. Maybe the other night she’d been too busy with her plans, or too nervous, making sure everything went just right, to really take her time looking at him like this, to just study him and savor it. But now she was doing both.
“You have a fabulous body, lover.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
His eyes still shot fire as he stared at her, and she suddenly knew she needed to put this man in his place—quickly—before he decided to put her in hers. “Get on your hands and knees,” she instructed.
This time, he obediently followed the order, pleasing her. Reaching up, she absently cupped one breast, lightly twirling her nipple as she watched him. He kept his eyes on her, too.
“Now, crawl toward me.”
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Mardi Gras
As he did, she observed the muscles in his arms and shoulders working, gliding—
he moved toward her like a sexy jungle cat.
When he neared her, she lifted one shoe to stop his progress, pressing the inch-high platform beneath her toes lightly to his forehead. He halted, letting her hold him there like that.
“Lick the heel of my shoe,” she told him, a little surprised at the skittery reaction in her cunt. She