“Hold on,” she said. “Jerk your own cock for once.”
She turned and made her way back to the dining room, grabbing the purse she had brought. When she returned to the bedroom, she stood for a moment and watched him. Anthony had a hold of his hard cock, and he was pleasuring himself, moving his hand slowly along his member.
“Stop,” she said, and he did. Aisha opened her purse and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs. They weren’t fuzzy. They weren't pink. They were cold steel, and she slipped one locking hoop of each pair on each wrist and then she attached the other ends to his headboard. He wouldn’t be able to move even if he wanted to.
“This is surprising.” Anthony grinned, and Aisha didn’t say anything. Instead, she climbed onto the bed and shifted so she was kneeling over his face. Her pussy was moist and warm, and when she lowered herself to his lips, he happily and eagerly lapped at her wet slit. She was facing his feet, and she leaned forward, pressing her large breasts against the bottom of his toned stomach as she brought herself level with his cock. She held herself up a bit with one hand and gripped his throbbing member with the other, and then took him into her mouth.
She teased him, feeling empowered by having him cuffed to his bed. Her tongue traced tiny circles around the head of his cock, and she left his shaft to her hand. He tried to arch his hips up, to force his cock deep into her mouth, but she didn’t let him. He was tonguing her with skills that came from age and experience, and she came suddenly after ten minutes, his tongue buried inside her, his chin rubbing against her clit as he probed her pussy.
When she was done, she climbed off him and then, without speaking, left the bed. She went out to the kitchen, wanting to torture him, wanting to make him want her even more. She filled a glass with water from the tap and drank it slowly. She heard him call for her, but she ignored him. When she finally returned, his cock was still hard, angry and red and yearning, and he was pumping his hips up in a display of desire gone unfulfilled.
“You came back,” he said.
“I guess I should make you come,” she said. She climbed on top of him, facing him, and used her hand to guide him inside her. Aisha controlled the pace, rocking slowly on top of him. She bent forward and kissed him. she moved up so her brown nipple rubbed his lips, and he parted them and sucked on her.
It was long and slow and tender, but finally he was coming, grunting aloud and thrusting upward as his cock dumped his load in her tight pussy. She waited until his dick had stopped jumping and thrusting, and then she pulled herself off him and lay down beside him.
“Are you going to uncuff me?” he panted.
“Maybe,” Aisha said with a wicked grin.
“At least take the blindfold off,” he pleaded.
“I will. Eventually.”
“You’re evil,” Anthony said.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Okay.”
Aisha left him blindfolded because she felt like an idiot for bringing all of this up after only a month or so of dating. But still, it had been weighing on her mind lately, and she didn’t want to just let it go.
“Are you ashamed to be dating me?”
“What? No. Why would you ask that?” Anthony asked.
“I’m your secretary. I just…I noticed we only go out during lunch, when it would be normal for us to go out. You’ve also never introduced me to any of your friends.”
“You haven’t introduced me to any of yours.”
Aisha laughed. “I don’t have any here. If you want to fly to Michigan, I will.”
“I introduced you to Mary tonight,” Anthony argued.
“She’s your cook.”
“Well, look, I was going to ask you…. I always take some time off around now, and I spend a week at this cabin in Colorado. Great place. I like to ski. Do you ski?”
“I’ve never tried,” Aisha said truthfully.
“Well, I can teach you. Will you come with me?”
Aisha grinned and reached over, using one finger to pull the blindfold down. “Okay,” she said when he looked at her.
4
Three weeks after he asked her to go, Aisha was boarding a private plane, on her way to Colorado. After landing at the Denver airport, they were driven three hours to a remote and snow-covered mountain. There was a small town at the foot of the small jagged peak, and up the side a bit was Anthony’s private cabin. It wasn’t a cabin like Aisha had ever seen. It was huge, with two stories and a wraparound porch, all made of logs. The inside was furnished as extravagantly as the outside suggested. They spent days on the mountain, skiing and, when Aisha didn’t take to that, sledding. Their meals were prepared by Mary, who stayed in the nearby town but came up every morning to cook a quick lunch and a more substantial dinner.
On their fourth night, after steamy sex, when they both lay panting and shining in the soft moonlight, Anthony looked over at her. “You’re still mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you.”
“You think I’m hiding you.”