Do it like Magic Mike (Regular Sex Issue 3) (3 page)

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Authors: Kitty French

BOOK: Do it like Magic Mike (Regular Sex Issue 3)

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She’s very, very
still. I’m aware that I’m acting in a way she hasn’t anticipated, and to be honest,
stripped back and slow isn’t my usual style either.

But then Laurel
isn’t my usual kind of client. Right now she doesn’t feel like a client at all.
She feels like a friend in need.

The suit hits the
floor and she steps out of it, and once again my face is level with her crotch.
This time though, it’s not covered in PVC. It’s nude, and she’s freshly waxed,
completely hair free. My preference would be for a neat, small bush, or a
landing strip at least, but from here I can see the top of her lips and I lean
in to press a kiss there. If I push my tongue forward now, I could lick her
clit. I could, and I want to, but I don’t.

I stand up
instead and scoop her up, catching her by surprise as I set her down on top of
the tall chest of drawers against the wall. She laughs, surprised.

‘Why am I up
here?’

I part her knees
and kiss the insides of her thighs.

‘So you can watch
me.’ I place one single kiss over her closed labia. ‘Wait there.’

I back off and
feel around under the bed, then go back, ripping the bullet free of its
packaging as I go.

Laurel watches me
warily. ‘I wore the other one out,’ she says, defensive. I nod, even though I don’t
think she’s telling the truth. Her eyes round when I click the button and the
silver bullet buzzes into life.

‘Open your legs.’

I slide between
them when she does and pull her closer to the edge. I linger, kissing her tits
while I run the bullet over her inner thighs. She’s breathing fast, waiting,
and I look up into her eyes the first time I place the tip of the bullet
against her folds.

Her mouth pops
open, and I watch the movement, dying to kiss her.

She lifts one of
her knees into her chest, opening herself wider for me to explore, so I take
her cue and drop my head between her legs.

She’s excited.
Wet with it when I part her lips, slippery with it when I run the tip of my
index finger down the length of her.

‘Some men love
tits,’ I say, mouthing her inner thighs. ‘And some men love arses.’ I pause to
really splay her wide. ‘Me, I’m a clit man.’

I hear her sharp
intake of breath and feel her hands in my hair when I massage her clitoris
lightly as I speak, and then her full on moans when I take it inside my mouth
and lick her.

‘You, Laurel,
have the prettiest clit I’ve ever seen.’

I’m not lying.
She’s a delicate shade of deep, rose pink, lust-swollen and begging for my
mouth. I don’t hold back, because the girl is panting, and I don’t need to hold
her open anymore because she’s doing it for me, her perfectly polished nails
digging into her lips to give me a better view.

She jumps as if I’ve
given her an electric shock when I buzz the vibrator against her opening,
sliding it inside her and then up and over her clit alongside my tongue.

Christ, I want to
fuck her now. My cock is almost blue with it.

Laurel grips my hair
suddenly, almost yanking it out of my head as her body goes into spasm. I go
with her, pushing her harder, licking her in small, fast thrusts as she comes
in my mouth, the vibrator buzzing furiously inside her.

I wait, gentling
my mouth as her grip thankfully slackens in my hair, and then I kiss my way up
her body and pull her into my arms. She’s shaking as I lift her down and lay
her back on the bed. I pick up a foil packet and rip it open with my teeth as I
lie down beside her and sheath myself, then I slide across, opening her knees
with my own.

She’s underneath
me, and there’s something I need to do.

‘Please let me
kiss you,’ I breathe, my cock between her legs, so close to fucking. We’re eye-to-eye
and hip-to-hip, and a tear slides down into her hairline.

She doesn’t
answer, just drops her eyes to study my mouth, and I can see longing written
all over her face. This is a girl who has never been kissed properly, I know
it, and as I rock my hips down and thrust into her, I lower my mouth over hers
and slowly, slowly start to kiss her as she deserves to be kissed. I think more
about the kiss than the fuck, taking my time, coaxing her lips with mine. When I
feel the tip of her tongue slide out I match her movement, opening her mouth to
deepen the kiss. I hold her face, thumbing her tears away, teaching her how to
kiss and be kissed until she’s crazy for more, open-mouthed hot, hungry kisses,
her teeth clashing against mine as our bodies writhe on the sheets. She wraps her
legs around my waist when my thrusts get harder, deeper, and her hips rise to
bang mine. Her tongue is in my mouth when she comes, and mine is in hers when I
come with a yell a few last, furious fucks later.

Our breathing is
erratic, our body’s slick with sweat. I hold her close for a few silent
minutes, stroking her back.

‘I think you’ve
put the door restraints on upside down,’ I say, after a while.

‘I’m acrobatic,’
she whispers, but I can hear the laughter behind her words. She knows it’s a
fair cop. She’s no more a dominatrix than I’m a transvestite.

‘Why did you hire
me?’ I ask, the sweet curve of her ass in my hand.

She sighs, her
breath warm on my chest. ‘Because it’s been a year today.’

‘Since...?’ I
twist a long lock of her hair around my fingers.

‘Since I last had
sex. Bad sex. All of the sex I’ve ever had has been bad. All of the men I’ve
ever been with have been bastards.’

I frown, mad at
my entire brotherhood for treating this woman so shittily that she has no idea
how fabulous sex should be.

‘And then I heard
about you...’ she shrugs. ‘I guess I figured that if I pay for it, then it’s on
my terms.’

‘Not all men are
bastards. You don’t need whips and cuffs to be in control,’ I tell her, pushing
myself up on one elbow. ‘You’ve just picked the wrong men, Laurel.’

Her smile breaks
my fucking heart.

‘Can I pick you?’

‘You don’t need
me,’ I tell her, because she doesn’t. ‘I’m not boyfriend material.’

Laurel strokes my
cheek, and then she says something that pulls me up short.

‘Not all women
are bastards, either, Finn.’

We look each
other in the eyes, and my cock twitches.

She sees through
me. No one else has ever done that before. I reach between us and finger her
clit, and she smiles.

‘You better give
me my money’s worth.’

I play with her, finding
her rhythm. ‘Tonight’s on me.’

Her back arches a
little with pleasure.

‘I’ll only book
you again if you don’t charge me.’

I watch her face
as she comes, then kiss her open mouth.

‘I’m banking on
it.’

I kiss her
goodbye at the door, then push the money she’s given me back through her letter
box as I leave, secure in the knowledge that I’ll get it back and then some
next week.

On the other side
of the door, Laurel, or whatever her name is, smiles and pockets the money,
then heads out of the back door of her flat and down the stone stairs into the
basement... or the torture dungeon, as she lovingly likes to call it.

‘Candy from a
baby,’ she murmurs, dropping her robe. Finn had been almost too easy; a few discarded
Lovehoney packets and a deliberately upside down strapping system had been more
than enough to pull the wool over his eyes. That was the thing with men. They only
saw what they wanted to see. She didn't let herself dwell on the unexpected tears
she'd cried upstairs, or the unsettling moments where it had felt as if Finn
saw right through her facade to the little girl who'd never been good enough.
She was good enough now, and no man would ever tell her otherwise again.

'You're in luck,'
she says, shaking off the lingering sense of vulnerability as she surveys the
wall of whips to choose her weapon. 'Looks like you might be getting out of
here soon.'

She glances
across at the accountant from the second floor flat. He raises his eyes slowly,
pleading, but he doesn’t speak. He can’t, because he’s gagged and strapped to a
whipping post.

She lifts her
choice down, a black leather bull whip with a pink plaited handle. The thought
of using it on Finn makes her nipples stiffen.

She pauses just
long enough to send a text before she raises the whip, and as she prowls around
Dennis her phone lights up on the workbench.

'Tomorrow night's
booking just cancelled. Fancy dinner?'

I hope you enjoyed reading about Finn
and Laurel’s encounter!

Click to preview issue 4 now, in
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