Puck by Wilder Jasinda
Her eyes blazed.
Oh.
Oh hell.
I forgot--she doesn't like being challenged.
"Switch spots with me," she said. She lifted up and slid onto my lap, and I shifted to the window seat. "Now. Take off your underwear and give them to me."
I quirked an eyebrow at her. "You're serious." I glanced forward--Temple and Lola had their heads resting on each other, dozing; Kyrie and Layla were across from them, deep in conversation; Ivar was still busy on his phone.
She quirked an eyebrow back at me. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
Why not go with it? Could be fun. So I unlaced my combat boots enough to slip my feet out, shucked off my pants and underwear, and then tugged my pants back on, and handed her my black boxer briefs. I left my pants unbuttoned and unzipped, then glanced at Colbie. Her eyes were wide, her expression one of shock and desire. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth, and her gaze was locked on my cock. Hard as goddamn marble, pre-come beading and smeared on the tip. Obviously I was better endowed than she'd anticipated, judging by her expression.
"Jesus, Puck," she breathed.
"I love the way you say that," I murmured.
Her eyes flicked to mine, and then roamed the cabin before returning to me. She hesitated, taking a deep breath, and then shifted closer to me. Reached for me, nudging the flaps of my zipper aside to fully reveal my erection in all its glory. Took everything I had to play it cool, to tamp down my disbelief--I really hadn't expected her to actually do this. I wouldn't have pegged her as the type to give me a public handjob in a million years. Yet it seemed as if that was exactly what was happening.
OH.
Oh yeah. Yep. Her delicate little hand slipped around my cock, and I had to bite my tongue quite literally to keep from making a sound. Her fingers were so small, so thin, so delicate--she couldn't get her hand all the way around me. Part of that was me, I suppose I should admit, as I was not a small man in any sense of the word except in terms of height, and even then, my cock was longer than my overall height would lead most to assume, and thicker than they'd guess. I've never measured, because who does that, for real? So no, I don't know how many inches. I could guess, but why? Plenty, and more than enough.
Her touch slid down slowly, and I watched, rapt, as she glided her fist back up, rubbing her thumb over the tip, through the smeared clear, sticky fluid. My teeth ground together--her touch was . . . perfect. Soft. Warm. Gentle, yet firm. Confident. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she was enjoying it. Not as much as I was, that was for fucking sure. God, her hand felt incredible. My heart crashed in my chest, my stomach sucked inward involuntarily. My balls ached.
We were both acting as if nothing was going on, her gaze roving the cabin now and again, like mine was. She plunged her fist down again, and my eyes fluttered closed momentarily. Up then. God, each stroke was heaven, her warm, smooth touch making me crazy. I wanted to move, needed to push, to thrust, to flex. But I didn't. I held stone-still, only my eyes and chest moved. Let her do this, her way, in her time.
She was as unhurried as I'd been, touching her. No rush, just a slow, teasing exploration. Up and down. She paused at the bottom, squeezed a few times, then moved her hand up, rubbed the tip again, maybe played a few short, shallow strokes. I swallowed hard, teeth grinding, lungs expanding as I took deep, steadying breaths.
Casually, she leaned a little closer, her eyes flicking up to mine, assessing me, watching my reaction as she cupped her other hand over my balls. Oh god, oh fuck, that was almost my undoing. I blew out a harsh breath through my nose, focusing on keeping still, on not making any sounds. Her beautiful mouth curved in a pleased smile, seeing my efforts to contain my reaction.
Her lips brushed my ear. "You have a gorgeous cock, Puck."
"Thanks."
"Having trouble holding back already?" she asked, gliding her touch a bit more swiftly, then, teasing me, drawing me closer to the edge.
"Nope. I'm fine." I wasn't, and we both knew it. "Just fucking fine."
She laughed quietly, her gaze moving away from mine and down to my cock. "I hope your poker face is better during actual poker."
More slow, teasing strokes, her palm cupping and kneading my balls. Faster then, just a little. Enough that my hips started flexing, and a soft grunt escaped me.
"Wouldn't take much now, would it?" she whispered in my ear, her breath warm, her words making it harder to hold back. "A few quick jerks, and you'd make a mess, I bet."
"Think so? Try me." I was bluffing. It was all false bravado; she was more right than she knew.
She laughed again. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Colbie paused with her hand around the head of my dick, caressing the tip, squeezing. "That's not how this is going to go, Puck."
"No?"
She shook her head, hair tossing. "You like to tease and play games? Well, so do I."
I growled. "Of course."
"You think you could tease me and edge me and force me to beg for the orgasm and not have some kind of payback?" She let go of me, letting my cock rest against my belly. "Silly Puck."
I let out a breath slowly, seeking control. "I'm well aware I earned this."
"All you have to do is ask, Puck. Beg, like you made me beg."
I grinned at her. "Joke's on you, babe, 'cause I have absolutely no problem with that."
She smirked back at me. "Oh no?"
I shook my head. "Nope." This part was no bluff, at least. "Please, Colbie."
"Please what, Puck?"
"Touch me again." I flexed my hips. "Make me come. Please, Colbie."
She made a face, one which seemed to say hmm, I COULD, but . . .
"Make you come, huh? Just like that? Finish jerking you off?"
"Yes, please."
She flicked open a button of her blouse, letting the blue silk of her bra spill out a bit, along with a tantalizing expanse of creamy cleavage. "What if I decide to toy with you a bit more?" She undid the next button, and she was bared for me, a sapphire blue full-coverage bra enclosing a pair of plump, firm, luscious tits threatening to overflow the confines of the cups. "It was a little too easy to make you beg. It didn't seem . . . genuine enough. It wasn't desperate enough."
She twisted toward me, eyeing the cabin to make sure no one was watching us.
"Shit, Colbie."
"Yes?" she asked, sounding all innocent. "Is there something you'd like to ask me?" She breathed, tracing the edge of the cups, tugging at them a little.
I got a hint of darker skin, the outside rim of her areola. My cock throbbed even harder at the prospect of seeing those gorgeous tits bared. "Fuck," I growled. "You're good, babe."
She smirked, teasing with the cups again, pulling one down just enough to give me a tantalizing glimpse of more of her breast before letting go. Then the other. And she still wasn't touching me. Letting me cool off, backing away from the edge--only, the torturous teasing she was doing was pushing me right back toward the edge, even though she wasn't touching me.
"You want to see these? Is that it?" She tugged down one side, and I got a peek of nipple.
"Fuck yes, I do."
She smirked again, a cruel little grin. "You know, this bra is a front clasp." She grasped the edges and lifted to open the bra, pulling the edges apart a little, enough to tease, to give me a glimpse of the insides of her breasts, and then closed it again. "Super easy to open and close."
I groaned at the tragic loss when she closed it, and then groaned again when she began buttoning the shirt back up. "You're evil."
She laughed, a pleased, erotic huff of enjoyment. "I like front clasp bras. My boobs are small enough that they're still supported." She unbuttoned again, holding the clasp of the bra. "And then at the end of the day, a front clasp bra is just so easy to take off. One little pop . . . and it's off." She undid the clasp, but kept the tension and didn't quite open enough for me to really see anything.
"What is it you want to hear me say, Colbie?" I whisp
She held the edges of her bra with one hand, and reached for me with the other. "Oh no, poor Puck. It hurts?"
"Throbs."
"So bad?" She hesitated a quarter inch away from me.
"I'm dyin', babe." I thrust, vainly, trying to get closer to her hand.
"You need me to finish you off, is that it?"
"Might just die of frustration if you don't."
"I wouldn't want that," she said, circling her fingers around my cock. "The only problem is, now my bra is undone. I can't finish you properly with one hand, but if I let go, my boobs will fall out."
"That would be epic," I breathed. I met her eyes, let her see my sincerity. "Please, Colbie?"
"Hmm. I don't know."
I groaned as softly as I could. "Shit, shit, shit." I thumped my head against the seat. "I need to see your tits."
"Just see them?"
"Hell no. I need to bury my face in them. I need to paint my come all over them." I heaved a deep breath as she squeezed my cock, a teasing pressure. "But for now, I'll settle for the privilege of seeing them."
Her smile was genuinely flattered. "Privilege?"
"Fuck yes, Colbie. It would be an honor and privilege--and probably the hottest thing I've ever seen."
"Promise not to tease me anymore?" she asked.
"Hell no." I lifted my chin. "What will I promise is to tease you just enough. I promise I'll always follow through. I promised you an orgasm you wouldn't believe, and I made good, didn't I? You like the teasing, Colbie. You love the game as much as I do."
She stroked me, and we both watched as her hand traveled from root to tip, slowly. "Damn you for being right."
8: Sex, Guns, And Gangsta Rap
My heart was hammering so hard I was worried I was having some sort of attack or episode.
I absolutely could not believe I was doing this. At all. Much less with a man I had just met, let alone in this situation, on a small passenger plane full of his friends and coworkers. Any one of them could turn around at any moment and catch us, and then what would they think of me? I was not like that. I didn't do that. The last guy I had sex with, I didn't so much as kiss him until we'd been on three dates--not because I believed in the three-date rule per se, but because I generally didn't like to go there with a guy until I was comfortable with him, and it usually took a while for me to be comfortable with anyone. Yet Puck, somehow, made me feel totally at ease, comfortable, daring even. He didn't dare me or challenge me to do this, he just didn't believe I would, and for some stupid reason it triggered something in me that wanted to prove him wrong.
And also, I wanted to do this. I wanted to feel him, to touch him. I also wanted to get him back. I wanted to prove to him that I could play the game too, that I could push his buttons and read his reactions and make him beg. It was equally portioned between the two reasons, honestly. The way he'd made me feel, the intensity of the orgasm, had only made me hornier than ever, made me want him more. And then, after I'd recovered from the climax, I'd looked over and he'd been sporting a monster erection. And he also seemed to genuinely not expect or anticipate anything in return despite how hard he was. And god, he looked huge. And then, when he took off his pants right there beside me, I got my first look at his dick, and I actually stopped breathing for a second. The damn thing was even more perfect and enormous than I'd imagined. Seven or eight inches long at least--so fucking thick, though. My fist didn't fit around it, it was so thick. One glimpse, and I had to touch him. I wanted that smooth, firm flesh in my hand.
I wanted to feel him lose control. I needed to know, for myself, and I needed him to know that I made him crazy, that I made him beg. Drove him to the edge and pushed him over, but not before toying with him.
And holy shit was it satisfying. Watching him squirm, watching him grind those teeth together and fight the urge to go caveman on me . . . watching him try to stay still and quiet, and lose the battle. So fucking hot. I was all wet again, and now I didn't have any underwear on, so the wetness was seeping out of me, dripping down; he could probably smell me, I was so wet.
And now I had him on the edge again. Teased, and tortured. Pushed him close to orgasm, backed him away. Gotten him to reveal desperation, the need to feel me touch him again, the need to see me. He was sitting there, chest heaving, jaw clenching, stomach tensed. I had his huge, gorgeous cock in my hand, and all I'd need to do was stroke him a few times and he'd come all over the place. I had his underwear on my lap, ready to use them for easy cleanup. I wasn't about to tell him this, but I was actually--foolishly, stupidly, probably--considering using my mouth a little. I wouldn't swallow it all, not this time. But I might let him feel that. Give him that much, just because he'd made me come so hard I had legitimately gotten dizzy from it.
I'd surprise him with it; that was what I'd do.
His eyes were flicking from my hand on his cock, squeezing and shallowly caressing it near the base, and my hand on my bra, holding it closed--then up to my eyes, roaming my features, and back down.
"No touching me," I said.
He slipped his hands under his butt. "Okay."
I glanced one more time around the small cabin, noticing Layla and Kyrie had finally dozed off, Kyrie leaning against the window with Layla's head on her shoulder, and Ivar was using both hands to type on his phone, absorbed, ignoring everything, the big bulky headset on his ears blocking out any sounds we made. As private as we'd get, under the circumstances.
I released my hold on the clasp of my bra, and my boobs bounced free, swaying gently. I reached up and brushed the straps off my shoulders so the garment hung open, baring my breasts completely. His cock throbbed, jumped in my hands, and he shifted, clearly fighting the urge to touch me. I liked seeing that need in his features, how badly he wanted to touch me.
I focused on his dick. Wrapped my right hand around his shaft above my left, and stroked downward. His eyes were fixed on my tits as I stroked him, so I gave a little shimmy, setting them to swaying, and he made a soft grunt in the back of his throat, his hips flexing, pushing his thick, firm, warm cock through my fists. God, it was hot, watching him edge closer to release, and the public setting made it hotter yet.
I felt a gush of wetness seep through my sex, and I clenched my thighs together. He was so close. Hips thrusting, cock pulsing in my hands.
Then I did something crazy, something I've never done before, never even considered: I tugged the hem of my skirt up, baring my pussy to Puck's gaze, and as he watched, I slipped two fingers inside myself, gathering my essence . . . then I smeared it onto the tip of Puck's cock, mixing it with his own leaking pre-come. He growled low in his throat, his eyes raking over my bared, glistening core.
"Holy motherfucking shit," he murmured. "Your pussy is fucking perfect."
I grinned, couldn't help but touch myself again, smeared more of my wetness onto his dick. Plunged my fist down his length, coating his shaft with sticky wet essence, his and mine mixed. Stroked faster, using both hands now. Skirt up, shirt undone, bra opened--tits bared, pussy bared . . . his thick, hard cock in my hand. People mere feet away. One loud noise and they'd all look back here.
"Fuck," Puck growled.
"Not yet," I whispered.
"Trying," he said through gritted teeth.
"You're holding back?" I asked, plunging my hands around him, twisting my fists around his plump pink glans then stroking down to his base.
"Yeah." His eyes fluttered closed then snapped open, staring in turn at my hands, my tits, my slit.
"Don't come yet."
"Why not?"
"Because I told you not to. I want you to wait."
"I can't much longer." He tensed all over, hands fisted under his thighs, jaw clenched, breathing hard.
"A little longer. It'll be worth it." I kept stroking smooth, even motions from tip to root and back up.
I made him wait, slowing down enough that he started thrusting helplessly, needing th
"Puck," I whispered, and his eyes flitted up to mine.
"Yeah?"
"Say 'Please, Colbie.'"
His mouth twisted in a grin. "Please, Colbie?"
"How many more orgasms are you gonna give me if I let you take me somewhere private?"
"As many as you can handle, plus one or two more."
"And I'm gonna pass out from it?" I slowed nearly to a stop, backing him slightly away from the edge.
"Most likely, yeah." He was thrusting, needing touch, movement, friction.
"Say my name again, Puck."
He laughed, a huffing grunt. "Colbie."
I couldn't hide the pleased smile as I leaned toward him. "Keep saying my name."
He blinked at me, disbelieving, as I bent over him. "Colbie . . . Jesus--Colbie."
"Mmm." It was all I could manage, because I had him in my mouth.
I tasted him and myself. Flesh. Salt. Musk. Sex. Heat, man. My jaw was stretched, and I felt him on my tongue, sliding past my teeth sheathed behind my lips. He let out a long, groaning breath, which I realized belatedly was my name, he was groaning my name like a prayer, drawn out, as I wrapped my lips around him and gave him the heat and warmth and wetness of my mouth.
I couldn't take much and didn't try. I stroked him underneath my mouth, moving my hands quickly now, because I knew I couldn't make him wait any longer. And I didn't want him to.
He sucked a breath in, a sharp inhalation, and then his teeth clicked together. "Colbie, babe--holy shit. I can't--I'm gonna--fuck, fuck, fuck--"
I backed away slowly, let him pop free of my mouth, my saliva connecting my lips to his cock in a string, or maybe it was saliva and his pre-come mixed together. He tensed, hips locked in a forward thrust, head pressed back against the seat.
"Now, Puck," I whispered.
I gathered his underwear and cupped it under the broad head of his cock, shielding the tip with the stretchy black cotton. Stroked him in long, fast jerks, my hand a blur around his root. I felt his breath catch, felt his cock throb and pulse. Shifted my hand up around the top of him and kept going, hard and fast. He growled, a sound from the bottom of his throat, from his chest, muffled as he buried his face in my hair.
"Ohhhh . . . god, Colbie . . ." he breathed.
And then he came. I watched his come jet out of him, soaking into the underwear, kept stroking him as fast as I could. He murmured something unintelligible, thrusting into my hand, and come shot out of him again and again.