“Emm. Mr. Crick, you sure you don’t want to tell me?” I asked breathily while stroking his length.
“Mrs. Crick, you need to do better than that to get the words out of me.” he taunted.
I chuckled at his playfulness. Not wanting to lose, I angled his cock to my lips and I eased it slowly into my mouth. The friction of my soft lips against his hard cock caused him to shiver. When I pulled out, he let out a satisfied moan.
“Want to tell me now?” I asked again, my hand still stroking his now slick cock.
“Why Mrs. Crick? Tired already?”
“Stubborn boy.” I scolded and slid his cock back inside my mouth. My tongue slithered around him, tasting and feeling every inch of his skin. My hand, still grabbing the base of his cock, continued to stroke. Then, I bobbed my head up and down, up and down until I felt his thigh tensed up. I pulled it out and proceeded with licking his balls. My fingers remained diligent with the strokes.
“Want to come?” I asked. His cock was obviously troubled and in need of a quick release. “Just tell me and I’ll let you come.”
“Not in a million years, sweetheart.” he said confidently. But still, I hadn’t missed the regret in his tone.
“You really aren’t going to tell me?” I pouted as I stroked harder and faster along his shaft.
“No.” he growled, obviously close to a release.
“Really really?” I asked. My hand moved even faster. The sound of wet skin rubbing wet skin permeated the otherwise quiet room.
“Ugh…No.” he exhaled shakily.
“Fine then.” my hand stopped abruptly. His cock twitched violently at the sudden lost of stimulation. He let out a low unsatisfied groan. His hand urgently came to resume the stimulation but I secured his cock with both hands.
“Oh no you don’t.” I teased. “You don’t get to come without telling me.”
“Oh God, Mrs. Crick. You sure drive a hard bargain.” he protested.
“Tell me now and I will let you come.” I tested him once more. His twitching cock still hard and hot in my grasp.
“I’d rather not tell you.” he laughed.
“Fine then. Suit yourself.” I grumbled and tucked his hard cock back into his briefs. I pulled up his zipper and then came back out of the table. There’s a smug smile on his face. Obviously, he had won this round and I had lost my bargaining chip. I sat down on my seat in defeat and I was still a little pissed at not getting him to talk. I wiped my lips with a kleenex and then put on a new layer of lipstick.
“Having fun?” he teased.
“Not really.” I folded my arms and glared at him.
“I suppose not.” he laughed. “Oh, and by the way, you are going to pay for this tonight.” he pointed at his cock.
Right on time, the waiter came in with the first item. It was some light appetizer consisted of scallops, cheese, and vegetables. Then came the soup of the day, which was chicken mushroom with truffle toppings. The main course was duck breast bathed in sweet sauce.
As we ate, we talked about his work and about my day at home. There’s not much to talk, actually. But it was moments like these that really allowed me to understand what his work. I did casually ask loaded questions from time to time so that he might accidentally say out what he had planned. But he was too smart to fall for that and by the time we had taken our dessert, I still had no clue of what my present would be. I knew it was something kinky. It had to be. But I had no idea what.
“So, are you going to tell me or what?” I grumbled when we walked out of the restaurant. I had already given up in trying to make him talk.
“Your present?” he waggled his eyes.
“Yes. I want to know.” I demanded.
“You will know very soon my dear.” he grinned. “I’m taking you there now.”
The house was unremarkable. Just like every other houses in the neighborhood. It reminded me of my parents house. Picket fences and lawns, paved curb and well trimmed shrubs. It was just your average neighborhood residence and a colossal difference compared to the penthouse that we stayed in.
“A house?” I cocked my head. “My present is a house?” I was shocked to say the least. Why would my husband buy me a house? We were already staying together in the penthouse. Was he trying to kick me out? Or something had gone terribly wrong with his business and that our once high class loft was to be downgraded to this. Not that I cared about the money but a downgrade like this was sure to be a huge blow on his pride as a man, especially on the day of my birthday.
“I love watching you getting all worried.” he pressed a finger on my forehead. “Your present isn’t the house, my dear. Your present is inside the house.”
He brought me up to the door and then unlocked it with a physical key. All we used at the penthouse was our thumbprints or the password that only we knew. I hadn’t seen a key like this for a very long time.
“What’s in the house?” I couldn’t help but to ask.
“You will soon find out.” he opened the door and then ushered me in.
As soon as I stepped in, I saw a flight of stairs in front of me. Obviously, if my parents house were of any guide, the upstairs would be the bedrooms. I walked along the hallway, not bothering to go up the stairs, and turned around the corner to find the living room.
My jaw dropped when I saw what was before my eyes. There’s a large bed at the center with black rails. I didn’t missed the leather cuffs and metal chains at each bedpost. There’s also a black bench at one end with metal shackles built onto it. On one of the wall, there’s a large tool panel, but instead of hammers and drills, it was covered with whips and cans and other sadistic implementations.
“What’s this?” I asked nervously.
“Your present.”
A shiver went down my spine. A flash of memory came back to me. I had told my husband that I would like to try out roleplay and that I would want to be forced to do something really kinky. Actually, I had told my husband pretty much a lot of kinky stuff that I would like to try out.
But still, I really hadn’t expected this. I stepped back in a little fear, and slammed my back onto my husband. He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed the back of my head.
“What do you think?” he whispered into my ear with a salacious tone.
“Um…” I swallowed. I was at a lost for words. My stomach clenched at the lewd thought of being restrained, yet a big part of me didn’t want to try it out. It would have been too much.
“Strip.” I heard my husband growled.
“What?” I shivered in fear at his blatant command.
“Strip now or I’m going to tear your clothes off.”
My knees weakened and my pussy stirred. Something with his voice made me shivered with needs. But still, I had never taken a command from my husband. The rebellious part of me began to take hold and I started to struggle.
“Why Mrs. Crick, you want to play?” his voice was cold. There’s no sweet warmth that usually accompanied the words that left his lips.
“Let me go you prick.” I blurted before I realized I had just called him a prick.
“You sure are a feisty one.” he growled and began unzipping my dress.
“Stop it.” I protested while trying to get away from him. His arm held tightly around my waist and kept me in place.