Simon Says

Simon Says

Everything is set, my choice. The meeting place, the dining (if we get that far), the final destination. I’m grateful for the condensation on the whiskey glass cupped in my hands. It hides the fact that my palms are sweating worse than the ice.

I’m also grateful for the easy, warm glow the alcohol has given me. That’s why I showed up forty minutes early. Who wouldn’t need a little shot of courage? It’s two on one, their turf. I want to see them before they see me.

The last few drops of Red Label still burn my throat when I spot them coming in, ten minutes early. They look like an ordinary couple, out for an intimate drink after they’ve been apart for an entire day, separated by ordinary obligations. But I know better.

I know why they are really here. It’s exciting, this secret knowledge.

A smile I can’t contain spreads across my cheeks. A quick wave gets their attention and earns me two smiles in return.

“Ronnie!” She squeals my name and slides around the long curve of the booth to throw her arms around me.

Her scent sets off tiny detonations across my skin. “Ava!”

We press awkward, unsatisfying kisses against each other’s cheeks before disentangling.

He slides up next to me on the other side, trapping me between them. His lips are warm and in control when he kisses my cheek.

“Simon.” I encourage his contact, placing a firm hand to his cheek. After all, he’s part of the deal. The stiff bristle of his short beard crackles under my palm and tingles against my face for an instant before I let go.

The skinny bitch of a waitress who’s ignored me since I arrived shows up with surprising speed.

“Can I get y’all somethin’ ta drink?” She snaps her gum and makes big eyes at Simon.

He laces his fingers together and leans across the table on his forearms. “Jameson neat, all around.”

A quick glance at Ava tells me she finds Simon’s effect on the waitress as funny as I do. The waitress doesn’t seem to notice; she only has eyes for Simon. With an exaggerated turn, she bounces off toward the cocktail station.

“Ronnie.” Simon turns his attention my way and takes my hand in both of his.

“How was your flight?”

“The flight was as good as you could expect for someone who hates to fly.”

Ava squeezes closer to me and lays her head on my shoulder. “I hate flying, too. Simon says it’s because I’m a control freak.”

Panic flashes through me in warm rush. Things are moving too fast.

“Here you go.” The waitress deals out three cheap cardboard coasters with a matching trifecta of drinks. “Twenty-four dollars.”

Simon slides a sinuous arm around his back to reach for his wallet. The plastic card snaps against the laminated tabletop. “Start a tab.”

The waitress’s resin nails click when she peels his card up. “Of course.” She gives him a mischievous smile before twirling away.

Pent-up excitement flows like an ocean current under us.

Simon holds up his glass. “A toast. To new friends.”

Ava and I hurry to raise our drinks. The clink of glass on glass is lost in the buzz of conversation around us. Some of the liquid spills over my hand, warm and cool at the same time. There is nothing cool about the whiskey as it runs down my throat.

Simon slams his glass to the tabletop and swipes his thumb across his lips.

“Damn, that’s good.”

His eyes are quicksilver in the dim light. I always pictured him with eyes as black as coal. It’s unsettling. Another reminder that I don’t really know these people I’ve traveled so far to see.

A second round of drinks and the conversation flows like liquid gold, engaging, stimulating. Hands begin to wander under the table. My fingers on hers, hers on mine. She traces light circles against my palm, sending shivers rippling up my arm.

The night’s entertainment takes the stage. Their appearance draws the focus of the audience forward. Anticipation spreads through the crowd. The drummer begins a low, steady beat. Guitars, languid and rhythmic, pour out the hypnotic notes of roots reggae.

Ava squeezes my hand. She shifts until her lips are an inch from my ear. “Dance with me, Ronnie.”

I finish my drink and follow her. There is no handholding as Ava and I thread our way forward. The dance floor is filling with other couples looking for hot fun on a cold autumn night. All I can see is the way her skirt rides the curves of her backside with each step. The whiskey has done its job, leaving a volatile trail of desire.

It’s a small club, intimate but there are few enough people tonight that we have our own universe within the mass of hot bodies. A universe with a perfect view, just for him, so he can watch as we spiral toward each other, toward ignition.

Music fills the room, leaving no escape. The rhythm has invaded her, washing her in an ethereal splendor. So beautiful, her hips swaying in languid figure eights, lips parted, eyes burning into mine.

I know they are a package deal. In order to have Ava, I must share her with Simon. He’s attractive enough but she is the reason I came so far.

I reach for the swell of her hips. Her warmth seeps through the thin material of her skirt into my hands. We move together, alone in the sea of bodies. Her hips, my hands, our only contact points, still separated by a searing gap of space. She covers my hands with hers, pressing them harder against her hips, taking control. Each sway brings her closer to me until our bodies touch at last.

She feels so good. Her breasts against mine, our bellies touching, her body so like my own. And, there is nothing left in the universe but the live wire that is her.

“Veronica.” The sound of my name is lost in the music but I don’t need to hear her tone to understand her.

I twine my fingers with hers, squeezing, using the leverage to guide her mouth to mine. She parts her lips in anticipation. So soft. She tastes of smoky vanilla.

Trailing small kisses, I nip and suckle her slender throat. With bold hands, she cups my breasts through my clothing, capturing my nipples between her thumb and forefinger. The pressure borders on painful and draws a moan from deep within me. Time and place lose all meaning.

I seek her warm, inviting mouth wanting to devour the sounds of her arousal. The skin between her thighs is smooth, her panties silken and taut under my fingers. Her moan vibrates down my throat and rumbles in my chest. She rocks, pleasing herself against my hand.

An insistent tapping on my shoulder breaks the spell. It’s a man in a sharp suit wearing an unhappy, somber expression. Ava and I scramble apart, guilty like children caught with hands in a cookie jar.

“Excuse me, ladies. I’m going to have to ask you to take your party elsewhere. Sorry. Club policy.”

One glance at Ava and we’re both giggling.

“That’s an unfortunate policy,” Ava says. “You’d probably make more money tonight if we were allowed to stay.” She casts a glance around the club, pointing out the fact that there are plenty of people watching us instead of the band.

I’m still giggling when Ava takes my hand and pulls me away.

Simon sits where we left him, a satisfied smile on his face. Before we can take our seats, he slides out of the booth.

“I already settled our bill. Shall we?”

No dinner tonight. There are other things on the menu.

# # #

We make the trip to my hotel with no contact between us. Conversation is limited to what is necessary to reach our destination. Instead of serving as a damper, this limited contact, this self-restraint heightens the anticipation.

In the elevator, I wonder what the gentleman who has the good fortune of sharing this ride with us is thinking. The tension is so high that I’m almost surprised when the elevator doors don’t blow off their tracks and spill us all to the plush carpeting in the hallway.

I pause in front of my door, plastic key card in my hand poised before the small red eye of the electronic lock. I decided a long time ago to give myself to them. This is it. The point of no return. Theoretically, I’ve had the option of backing out at any time. I know once we go inside my room, there is no turning back.

With a quick push, the smooth plastic glides home releasing the lock with a quiet snick and the red eye goes green. A small electric spark arcs between my fingers and the cool metal door handle.

I step into the room, holding the door open for them. First him, followed by her. When she passes by, I reach out and take her hand, keeping her close. The door swings shut and I can’t wait any longer.

With an urgent kiss, I pin her against the door. I need to feel her again the way we were on the dance floor. Her mouth. Her nipples. The soft skin of her belly. I can’t get enough. The smell of her hair. The soft sighs of her breath against my skin.

Her hand slides between my thighs. She slips her fingers under the edge of my panties and pushes into me.

Through the haze of excitement, I hear a faint jingling from Simon’s direction and think he has had enough of sitting quietly to the side. I imagine that he is undoing his belt buckle and pants so that he can begin to stroke himself. I am so wrong. He rises from his chair and comes to where I have her pinned against the door.

With the front of his body, he traps me between them. The hard length of his cock sits high on my back.

“Hold still.” He whispers his command in my ear.

I try to obey but she’s fucking me with her fingers and kissing me, making it impossible to keep from moving.

Some unspoken signal passes between them. She breaks away from my mouth and uses her free hand to gather my hair off my shoulders. He slides a sleek leather collar around my neck. The buckle jingles again as his practiced fingers make quick work of the fastening.

“Bound by collar rules, Veronica.” His words are low and hot in my ear.

She hasn’t let up on me. I’m so close to coming that I know my legs won’t hold me up if they release me from their embrace.

“Rule number one. You have to ask permission to come. If you come without permission–”

“Please, please, oh please…” Already they have me begging, fighting with everything I have not to break the rules before I even know what the rules are.

He backs off me a little and reaches around to cover her hand with his. “Naughty girl. Don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking to you.” He makes Ava stop.

“You don’t have permission to come, yet.”

My orgasm threatens to steal over me when he draws her fingers out of me. My head is too heavy. I rest my forehead on her shoulder and draw long, ragged breaths.

“Rule number one is only for coming quietly. Rule number two. You need special permission to come loudly.”

I nod to let him know I understand.

“Rule number three is to obey me when I say ‘Simon Says.’ Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You will be punished for any rule that is broken.”

Cold air rushes across my back when he takes a step back. It helps to clear my head.

“Simon says, undress, Ronnie. Everything but your panties and your shoes.”

I step away from Ava. She still has her back against the door, arms at her sides with her palms pushing flat against the door behind her. Her breasts rise and fall with her own excited breath.

I try to be quick because I don’t know if there is a time limit but my fingers are shaking. I have to slow down. When the buttons are all undone, I slip my arms out of the blouse and let it flutter to the floor. My bra is next. The black lace falls away, exposing my breasts to the cold air. My nipples sting as they contract.

Skirt. I tug the small zipper down, hook my fingers into the waistband, and slide it over my hips until it puddles around my feet. Stepping out of it, I kick it aside. I’m left in nothing but my silky black thong, my heels and my new collar.

“Good girl.” His words hold encouragement. He moves closer, holding something out to me. Her collar.

“Put it on her.”

I grasp it in both hands and reach toward her neck. Her eyes are on fire as she lifts her hair up, baring her throat. There are small red marks on her pale skin, marks I left there earlier with my teeth. I circle her neck with the thick leather, fumbling a little before securing the buckle.

He moves impossibly fast, one long arm around my waist, pulling me back, back, back until he is seated in the soft wing chair with me draped over his thighs, like a –

“Naughty girl,” he says.

I cry out from the sting of his hand. A spanking, my first of the night.

Smack!

“I didn’t say ‘Simon Says.’”

Smack! Smack!

My skin heats up where his hand is certainly leaving a trail of bright red marks against my pale flesh. Each blow fades from pain to hot tingling pleasure. The spanking over, he helps me up.

“Now, Simon says undress her, same as you.” He takes his seat, watching to make sure I carry out his orders.

At last, my chance to see her undressed, to feel her smooth skin against mine, touch her unencumbered by the confines of her clothing. I kiss her once and take her hand. I want to undress her in full view of him, away from the door. She follows as I lead her within arms reach of the spanking chair where he sits.

Holding her face, I press my mouth to hers. Her hands settle over my hips. Dipping a quick tongue into her mouth, I trail the kiss along her jaw. One kiss above her collar under her chin. One kiss below in the hollow of her throat. A kiss for each metal stud buried in the leather. She shivers under my touch, her fingers digging into my hips. The sound she makes has me burning inside, barely in control.

Taking the hem of her shirt, I lift it up. My hands trace her curves as I help her get it over her head. She wears no bra. Her skin is so pale, her nipples a sweet pink. She turns her head to watch him.

I lean in, stroking her bare back, and take her small perfect nipple into my mouth, sucking it, grazing it with my teeth. Her breath speeds up. She tangles her fingers in my hair and guides my mouth to her other nipple.

The small buttons marching down the back of her skirt come undone in my fingers. Squatting before her, I balance on my high heels and slide the tube of material down her legs with deliberate slowness. The muscles in her thighs tremble. She rocks her hips forward when I place a light kiss on her belly, just below her navel.

Her skirt drops to the carpet. She kicks it aside and widens her stance. I look at her face long enough to see desire burning behind her eyes before burying my face in her damp lacy crotch. Her smell, her taste, fills my mouth and nose. She moans and her grip on my hair turns painful.

A burst of excited energy jumps from her to me, firing across all my nerves. I part my lips and rub them in a light circle across the plump swollen front of her panties. She swears softly when I nip at the tight knot of her clit through the material. Her salty tang intensifies. A flood of wetness, my own, dampens my thong.

I’m ready, so ready for her to be out of her panties so I can make her come. Hooking my fingers into the material on either side of her hips, I yank them down. I want her naked. Exposed.

“Uh oh, Veronica…” He leans forward in his chair and reaches out to cover my hand with his, keeping me from getting her panties off. “You broke Rule #3. I told you to undress her, same as you. Shoes. And panties. Left on.” He pulls me away from her, slow this time.

“Climb onto my lap, naughty girl.”

Fear and excitement combine, making me dizzy as I settle across his lap. My muscles grow tense waiting for the spanking. He’s dragging it out this time. I flinch each time he caresses my ass, expecting the sting of his slap instead of tenderness.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

Each blow brings a new flood of pain and pleasure. The urge to come is almost impossible to stop. I dig my teeth into my lip and concentrate on keeping quiet this time. As before, he helps me up when the spanking is over. I stand still, waiting for him to tell me what he wants from me.

He sits, considering his next move, and rises from the spanking chair.

“Lay down on the bed on your back,” he says to Ava.

She has her panties back in place and moves quickly to obey him. He follows her, placing her where he wants her. I stay where I am, watching them.

He glances at me. “Come here and stand still. Simon says.”

I step up beside him.

She lies before us on the bed, her legs dangling over the edge, waiting for my touch while I listen for his instructions.

He leashes her collar to the headboard before bending between her legs to ease her panties off. With a lover’s gentle touch, he decorates her thighs with thick leather cuffs. A silver chain links the cuffs together, leaving her just enough slack to spread her legs.

With his tongue and fingers, he teases her for a moment. Watching them elicits a groan from me. Her hips rise off the bed to meet his touch. Jealousy flashes its heat across my skin even as he moves away from her to me. He kisses me for the first time, tasting of Ava.

I want to touch him but I don’t dare. Not yet.

“Do you want to see her come, Veronica?” he asks.

“God, yes.”

He is rough in his handling of me as he jostles me into place between her legs. The soft skin of her inner thighs presses hot against the outside of mine. It’s a tight connection, constrained by the length of chain.

He slithers around me and pulls first my right wrist, then my left, behind my back. The material he binds my wrists with feels like warm velvet. When the knots are secure, he pulls me against him. His excitement over this grown-up version of a child’s game is plain to feel.

“Ready, Veronica?”

“Yes.” Caught up in my own excitement, it comes out as a low whisper.

“Simon says, down on the floor, on your knees.”

I drop to my knees on the thick carpeting. More jingling. His hands reach around my throat, a short length of chain with clips at each end grasped in his fingers. He clips one end to the center link binding her thighs and the other end to the ring imbedded in my collar.

“Beautiful,” he says.

He stands, admiring his work for just a moment before starting to take pictures. When he is satisfied, he sets the camera aside. Kneeling behind me, he reaches around either side of my body to stroke her skin above the cuffs.

“Simon says, show me. Show me what you can do with your mouth and your tongue. Make her come loudly.” He thrusts himself against me, encouraging me toward her while his fingers raise thin red lines on her pale skin.

Pushing back into him, the chain tethered to my collar goes taut with a metallic chink. She likes being made to wait, likes being teased on the edge for as long as possible. I don’t know if I can wait that long.

I kiss her thigh before opening my mouth to lick a wet path from her inner thigh to her outer, just above the edge of the cuff. Her breath comes in fast, excited little noises. I switch paths, working my tongue up, letting the chain between us grow slack. She jumps a little as the chain settles against her pussy.

As much as I want to taste her and lick her and feel her come in my mouth, I hold back, pulling the chain tight again so that I can do the same to her other thigh. Her whole body vibrates. She moans, louder and longer this time.

He leans his weight forward, pinning my bound arms between us, urging me on. Time has run out, there’s nowhere left to go but forward. I trace my lips across her smooth, bare skin for the first time. She hisses and jerks. A warm trickle runs down the curve of her thigh. I want to hear her begging to come. Using only the faintest touch, I kiss my way toward her clit, stopping just short. She moans and rocks her whole body toward me, straining for contact.

He stands and begins undressing. When he has everything off, he kneels behind me and leans against me once again.

“You’re so good with her,” he whispers. “Simon says, make us both come, Veronica.” He shifts onto his knees and slides his cock against my bound hands. “Make us both come.”

Without letting up on her, I grip his cock so he can fuck my hands.

He reaches forward, his fingers digging into her thighs while he thrusts. Every time he buries his cock in the tight well of my fists, it forces my mouth harder against her. He helps me fuck her this way, all on the same rhythm. So close, she is so close. All it takes is my tongue finally flashing across her clit to set her off.

She begs for permission to come loudly. He swells in my hands at the sound of her words.

Before he can even finish granting her permission, I feel her climax flow through her body, hear her loud cries of release, taste her orgasm. He comes right behind her, spraying hot jets across my back.
She goes quiet first, laying limp on the soft bed. He rests his weight against me, his breathing deep and controlled. After a couple of minutes, he backs off me.

“It’s your turn, Veronica. We’re both going to make you come. Simon says.”

© 2011

  1. B says:

    That is an amazing erotic story. Your words, their arrangement in sentences and then combined as a narrative is beautiful. I am not sure how I got to this place on the web but I desire to come back for more.

  2. Chris says:

    Oh god.

    I think I found my newest favorite story and author. I love the writing style. I also love the concept of turning a simple child’s game into something more.

    I’m rather new to the whole BDSM thing, and while I think that I will come to love it, I know that I’m still a nervous wreak when it comes to some things that He wants me to do.

    He has had a lot of patience, but my normal personality is “You are not my father, Brother, or my Sgt, and therefore I do not have to do a damn thing you tell me to.” This makes letting him boss me around difficult for me.

    I think that if I show this to him and it gives him the idea of playing the game rather than just saying “strip” it might make it easier. Sorry I’m rambling.

    Point being, Love the story and am hoping that I can try it with my man.

    • Alice Gray says:

      Wow, I’m flattered you find this story so inspiring. It’s thrilling to think something I’ve written might provide a gateway to new and exciting sexual adventures for others. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. Go enjoy your man 😉

  3. Cathy Hunter says:

    Captivating and leaving the reader wanting more. Beautifully written, not sordid and crass……have you any books out that I can buy?

    • Alice Gray says:

      Hi Cathy! Sadly, I’ve yet to squeeze in the time to complete a single novel though I have a number in progress. 2013 is looking good for some new stories. Stay tuned!

  4. Janice says:

    I participated as a submissive in BDSM sex play with a few partners before getting married and unfortunately it’s not something my husband likes to do often. This story was so well written and pleasurable that it will tie me (and my imagination) over until the next blue moon when I can enjoy some d/s play with him. I also don’t know how I ended up here on the web but I’m glad I did. Thank you for sharing this!

  5. Steve says:

    Beautifully-paced, packed with brooding atmosphere and potent incident – and you’ve hit enough buttons to make me see stars:)

  6. Donna says:

    Hi Alice,
    Just to let you know I loved the story, the way it makes your mind put all the words in place in-between the lines. I have been married for 11yrs now and my husband and I have only recently started experimenting, we are aged 40 something and for the first time ever (although we never had any sexual issues together) we find ourselves living apart due to family ties, so we started making fantasies up between us, having an affair with each other and although we hate being apart its certainly livened our sex life up hugely.
    Authors like you are amazing and I have started writing myself recently too thank you Alice you are priceless

    • Alice Gray says:

      Hi Donna,

      Thank you so much for taking the time to let me know you enjoyed my work. I think it is amazing how you and your husband have found a way to keep your sex life alive in the face of unwanted separation. You’re an inspiration! Keep up the writing and feel free to share anytime.

      All the best!

  7. Layla says:

    I want to let you know that i think you are a literary genius! I love all your stories. 🙂

    • Alice Gray says:

      Hi Layla! Thank you for your kind words. I haven’t felt much like a literary anything for the past year but comments such as yours inspire me to get back in the writer’s seat. Here’s to hoping that 2014 brings new inspiration and the time to pursue all the characters and stories building in my head.

  8. Shakti says:

    This was amazing, I’ve never read a BDSM story before and this has urged me to read more.
    I feel all your stories are beautifully written and end with annoying cliffhangers (not necessarily bad) that just want me to read more.

    p.s. I like cumming to your stories

    • Alice Gray says:

      Hi Shakti,

      I’m thrilled you found something you enjoyed outside your regular fare. Cliffhangers are one of my specialties. Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts with me. Please cum back soon for more. 😉

  9. Sandra Botwright says:

    This erotic story is excellent. It aroused a passion in me.

    • Kallen says:

      Alice. Loved your story. Beautifully written. A master story teller.
      My greatest praise for an excellent writer.
      Please continue, you trully have a natural gift.
      You’re able to build to the climax with full anticipation
      Without being vulgar or crass , even more delightfull.
      Thank You so much.:)

  10. Doc says:

    I came across this story just searching for what makes spanking highly erotic. And here it was, on the first page of my google search. In good erotica, word pictures are equal to, if not better than actual photos or video. But you succeeded in writing a great masterpiece of erotica. It was full of class, rather than crass. The undercurrent of wont and anticipation was palpable and exciting. And perhaps, one of the best parts of your story, is reading the part when Ronnie and Ava are dancing at the club. As they began exploring each other and arousing their pleasures, I myself began to wonder, “Wait a minute. How can they be doing this in public on the dance floor, and no mention of anyone else watching? Something not right here.” Then, jackpot! Member of Management taps Ronnie on the shoulder, and tells them to take the dog and pony show somewhere else. Right on cue, and very well written! A good writer never insults the reader; you pulled this sudden curve of the story with great skill. As a proud Alumnus of the University of Iowa’s Writers Workshop, and having written a few short stories and a prolific songwriter as well, I applaud your story and encourage you to “Write On!”

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