“Diego, I’ll make you a bet.” She turned, a smile on her pretty lips. “I’ll bet that I can make you climax, touching you with nothing but a feather.” She lifted a softly draping peacock plume, brushing it against her lips.
He lifted a brow. “A feather?”
“Oh, more than one, of course. Are you willing to bet me?”
He cocked his head to the side, wondering what she was up to. “What are we betting?”
She sighed deeply, drawing his eyes to her chest, where the red bra peeped out at the edges of her suit.
“If you don’t climax within…ten minutes…I’ll give you a blow job.”
“Ten minutes? With feathers?” He contemplated the silky plume in her hand. He could do that… “Five minutes. And if you win?”
“Seven minutes. If I win, you go down on me.”
He let his weight settle on one leg. “Seven minutes. If I win, you go down on me. If you win…it sounds like we both win.”
She nodded. “You’re right. If I win and you climax, you not only go down on me, but you do it on my terms. Do you understand?”
She sounded no nonsense, triggering his desire to agree, to submit. He cleared his throat. “What are your terms?”
She knelt, wrapping a wide leather band around his ankle and fastening it to a loop in the floor. “My terms? Bound and blindfolded. You will follow my instructions exactly.”
His cock throbbed in response to her words. The image shouldn’t arouse him, but it did. She continued to his other ankle, ignoring his erection. She stood, pulling his hands to the front. He expected her to shackle him, but instead, she wrapped black tape around his wrists. Diego examined the tape, realizing that he could easily break free. That gave him a measure of comfort.
“Arms up.”
She guided him into place, looping his wrists over a low-hanging hook. He wasn’t uncomfortable, not really. But he wasn’t completely balanced and that made him uneasy. When she slipped a blindfold over his face, he flinched.
“Does this bother you?”
He thought for a moment. He could smell and hear. Once his other senses adjusted, he nodded. “Green. I’m fine.” Odd. He didn’t sound fine, even to his own ears.
Once his vision was obscured, Diego listened to her move around the room, mostly over at the table. He heard the rustle of the leather bag; the whisper of fabric.
“Nothing but feathers.” His voice was little more than a whisper.
“That’s right, Diego. I’ll touch you with nothing but feathers. Starting now.”
The feather lightly caressed his cheeks, his jaw and finally his lips. He could scent her lipstick, so he knew it was the peacock feather. It teased and tickled down his ribs, around to his back. He smiled slightly, letting himself be lulled by the rhythmic brush against his skin. He smelled her, heard her breathing…felt it on his skin. He shivered, focusing on breathing deeply. This wasn’t bad. Not at all. He estimated that a minute had passed. This would be a breeze.
When a ribbon of fire streaked down his spine to his ass-crack, he was momentarily too stunned to react. She’d scratched him with the quill end of the feather! The sting wasn’t that bad, but unexpected. He arched his back, finding himself swaying, letting his weight hang from his hands.
His dick went hard as a rod. And damn if he wasn’t in trouble.
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