Free Story of Us trilogy 01: TouchStone for Play by Sydney Jamesson Page A

boxers and become aware of an aching need in him to
release. I can’t take him in my mouth, not yet, I’m not ready for that, but I
offer him my hand.
    I trace the rigid grooves and the veins with my thumb
before folding my fingers around his throbbing cock and begin fisting him,
gently at first and then at a faster rate; up and down, from tip to base using
seeping, pre cum to lubricate my fingers.
    “Let me come …” he begs, for some strange reason.
    As gently as I can, I acknowledge his neediness with
an intimate smile and watch as his breathless panting dissolves into feverish
moans of pleasure.
    He calls out, "What-the-fuck!” In broken words,
and ejaculates into his boxers.
    After a breathless interval, I sit astride him and
suddenly become aware of my semi-naked state. Snuggling down, I pull up the
covers, with my hands tucked against my breasts. It feels wrong to touch him
now. I ask tentatively, "Are you alright?"
    "Yes, I’m great Beth."
    My change of name takes me by surprise: he’s back and
the role play is over.
    "Do you want to untie me?"
    I turn to face him. I’ve forgotten about the
stockings. There he is strung out over my pillows like a scarecrow: a gorgeous
one at that. Forgetting my inhibitions, I jump up and go in search of scissors.
It isn’t until I’m on my way back from the bathroom I catch myself in the full
length mirror: I’m virtually naked.
    He follows my approach with a lecherous stare, making
me feel awkward and shy, wondering how the hell I’m going to get the stockings
off without thrusting my breasts in his face.
    I climb onto the bed. "Excuse me," I mumble
as I lean over him. It seems the polite thing to say but clearly it’s
inappropriate because he finds it hilarious.
    I sit back down, wave the scissors around and
playfully remind him; "Aren’t we forgetting who’s tied up and who has the
scissors?"
    He pretends to be silent, "Alright, I’ll be
good." But then he bursts into laughter again and it’s a real heartfelt
giggle that makes me laugh too.
    "I’ve known people die this way. Their bodies
aren’t found ‘till months later, not until the neighbours start to complain
about the smell."
    "Is that so, then we’ll have to come to some
arrangement won’t we?" He rolls his eyes theatrically. "You set me
free and I’ll get you off. How about that?" He means it and the laughter
is still visible in his eyes. It’s highly infectious. "Just don’t say
‘excuse me’ again or you’ll crack me up and I’ll have to start
renegotiating."
    I cut him free and he rubs his wrists and grabs me by
the waist, pulling me down from the top of the bed to face him.
    "I like being around you," he says with a
grin, pulling up the covers around me. He’s so warm and that, just ‘come’ look
is playing havoc with my libido. "I’m going to clean up. Don’t move."
He kisses my nose and jumps out of bed.
    Now it’s my turn to ogle him. I watch him go and
inside I saying, please hurry back, but my thoughts turn to more intimate
matters: what does he want to do to me? Now the shoe’s on the other foot, I
think I prefer him passive and restrained.
    He returns, gloriously naked and excitable. When he
positions himself next to me I’m aware of the smell of sex on skin, laced with
pheromones. My heart flutters, more with apprehension than desire.
    He wraps his left arm over me and pulls up the duvet
to keep me snug. "You’re full of surprises Beth. Who would have thought …”
He draws his hand to my face and tenderly brushes back my hair.
    "I didn’t know what I was doing, but you relaxed
and went with it, and so did I." Lifting out a crumpled hand from under
the sheets, I caress his lovely face. "You know why I used my hand don’t
you?”
    "Yes I do: it’s early days." He turns away
and a smirk crosses his lips.
    "What’s so funny," I hope it isn’t me.
    "I’m just replaying what you said before. ‘This
is where the magic happens’ ... you weren’t wrong." He places a wet