Free The Switch by Christine Denham Page A

it,” he mumbled into the
bedclothes.
    “What was that?” Her voice was laced with
amusement, but he knew better than to push it.
    “Do it,” he said hopefully. When he got zero
response, he swallowed hard. “That thing you did, before.”
    “You mean this?” she asked, and pushed back
in.
    This time, instead of sudden, blinding
pleasure, a gradual swell of bliss rolled through the base of his
spine as her fingers lightly curled to tease that magic spot.
    “God, yes. Oh, fuck…”
    His cock was almost streaming precum, which
Marion used to coat her movements. How the hell did she expect him
to hold back from this? He rocked gently into the rhythm of her
hands, almost crying when she stopped. So damned close…
    Well, she didn’t stop completely, but she
was back to that stretching and stroking of his ass as she gripped
his root, effectively quelling his orgasm.
    “Breathe,” she instructed, waiting until he
settled down enough to continue.
    He lost track of how many times she did this
to him, winding him up to the edge and pulling him back. Each time
felt more desperate than the last until he was damn near frantic.
His balls ached and his body was covered in a sheen of
perspiration.
    “Breathe,” she said again.
    “Can’t,” he gritted, panting and swearing
under his breath when she pulled her fingers completely out. Surely
she wasn’t going to leave him like this. He was almost sick with
need. “Plea—”
    “Shh,” she interrupted. “I’m going to fuck
you now, Grayson.”
    He nearly wept with relief.
    “In a way you’ve never been fucked,” she
continued. “Would you like that?”
    “Yes. Yes, anything.” He absolutely meant
it, too. Even if she brought that double-dildo back out and fucked
him up the ass with it, he didn’t care. He only wanted - needed whatever Marion would give him.
    The sound of a latex glove being peeled off
was followed by a condom wrapper tearing.
    “Up on all fours,” she instructed, sliding
her long legs under him, almost perpendicular to his torso. Soft,
thick terry cloth brushed against his thighs as she scooted
down.
    He didn’t understand, but he didn’t need to;
she’d do with him whatever she wanted, even picking him apart at
the seams, and he’d take it like the swift addict he’d already
become.
    Something foreign nudged briefly at his
rectum before easing in. It was barely the girth of her two
fingers, but even covered in latex, the texture was enough to make
his head spin. She made good on her word, immediately adopting a
steady pace at both ends.
    Locking his elbows to keep himself up,
Grayson let his head fall between his shoulders, giving himself
over to the white noise of sheer rapture. What the fuck was she
doing to him? His cock was slick with his own fluids now as that
knobbed, ridged thing methodically worked over his prostate.
God, it felt like she was fucking the inside of his dick with it,
while her hand squeezed and polished the outside.
    “I - I can’t —” he gasped, his climax
barreling at him now in massive, ongoing wave.
    “Come then, pet,” Marion whispered. “Come
on.”

Ten
    Slumber melted away into the hot, wet pull of heaven on his cock. A
groan of pleasure dragged from him as a muffled moan vibrated
deliciously around his shaft, its owner drawing him in deeper. His
tip nudged the back of her throat before another long, slow suck
made him sigh in bliss.
    Still in a lazy state of half-sleep, Grayson
smiled and reached out to thread his fingers into those dark, silky
tresses tickling his thighs. His eyes flew open, however, when he
found he couldn’t, his wrists locked in place against the ornate
detailing of a wrought-iron bedframe.
    “…the fuck?” he mumbled, jerking against his
restraints. He looked down as she released his cock with a wet
smack. The sight of those unmistakable bangs across her brow, the
playful twinkle in her green eyes, and that dark, slightly puffy
smirk brought the evening back into focus.