the cushy sheltered way of life was really no fun

[forthsofar]

She's kept quiet about it. Not because of any worry or concern, not because she feels as though she's done anything wrong--indeed, in a way this feels the furthest thing from incorrect. There's just been a lot to think about, thoughts and feelings and needs that she's been turning over in her head and trying to parse out on her own before she brings them up with either Nick or Sabrina. She'll need to, because they're the cause of it all, the ones that sparked that odd blossoming warmth within her as they asked questions that held just the barest edge of command behind them.

It could be that she's understanding it all wrong, her relative inexperience turning words murmured in the heat of passion into something that feels more weighty than it is. But somehow, she doesn't think so. Whether she's misunderstood or not, though, Rosie wants to be sure of herself, and sure of what she wants. As she'd been told before, so many times, that's the only way this works.

After a few days of thought, she's ready to open the conversation, and given that they already had plans this afternoon, Nick seems the perfect person to start with. Settled on his couch and entwined under a blanket, they watch--well, mostly--the season premiere of that awful witch show Nick had fallen in love with during his convalescence, the both of them laughing and shouting things at the screen. Once it's over, Rosie reaches for the remote control, clicking the television off.

"Nick," she says softly, a flutter of uncertainty starting up in the pit of her stomach, something she tries to ignore. She turns in his arms until she can press a kiss to his mouth. "Could I...there's something I wanted to talk to you about." Realizing how that might sound only once it's out, her eyes widen, just slightly. "Something...I think it's something good, I promise."

Comments

[awickedtime]

Nick shifts his hips, his fingers curled around his cock and, very carefully, he leans in, sliding the head of his cock against her tongue. "Lick it," he instructs.

[forthsofar]

Her blush is so strong and hot that it almost makes her dizzy, and the fact she can't see only makes her notice it all the more. The head of Nick's cock is heavy and strange against her tongue; she tries to settle into it as much as she can, trying to stay good for him while she learns how to do this.

Carefully, she licks at his cock, running her tongue along the underside of the head. Blindfolded as she is, she has to trust only in the way things feel, the sweep of her tongue against warm skin, to know whether she's even off to the right kind of start. She moves just slightly, licking around one side of the head and then the other, testing it out even as her face flames with humiliation.

[awickedtime]

"That's it," he says, his voice soft but firm, encouraging, one hand wrapped around his cock, the other pressed into her hair, not holding her head still but pulling a little, none the less. "Now I want you to suck it. Just the head."

[forthsofar]

Rosie learned early on how much she likes the feeling of his hand in her hair, that slight pull. Right now is no exception, the curve of his fingers through her curls steadying her and sending a shiver of need down her spine all at once.

She makes a soft, assenting noise, more of an acknowledgement she's heard him than anything else, then slips her mouth over the head of his cock. Keeping her jaw as relaxed as possible, not wanting to even accidentally graze him with her teeth--despite her inexperience, she has a sense that wouldn't be ideal--she sucks at him gently, getting used to the feeling of it.

[awickedtime]

He could, he realises, watch her doing this for hours, bound and blindfolded on her knees with just the head of his cock in her mouth. His breath catches in a soft shiver.

"That's it, Rosie," he says. "That's beautiful."

[forthsofar]

Every sound he makes is almost amplified as she kneels there in the dark; the shudder of his breath, every warm and murmured bit of encouragement. She keeps her focus on the head for another few minutes, licking and sucking, daring to try different levels of pressure and gentle patterns of her tongue along the sensitive skin. It's all a guess, but from what she can hear she doesn't think she's steered wrong yet.

Slowly, she moves her head a little further down, letting a bit more of his cock slide into her mouth.

[awickedtime]

She does it without being told, slides her mouth further down his cock, and Nick isn't about to stop or correct her. He leans his weight back a little on his free hand and watches, keeping his hips still. "How far down can you get, Rosie?" he asks. "How good a slut do you want to be?"

[forthsofar]

That name hits in a way Rosie hadn't expected. It was humiliating, yes, but something that also sends another jolt of heat between her thighs. He'd been right before, when he'd said there was something about being told exactly what you were. She makes a small, muffled whimper around him, then moves her mouth a little further down; still slow and uncertain, but wanting to try, to keep being good.

She stills for a moment, adjusting to the feeling of it, sucking at him as best as she can.

[awickedtime]

"That's it," says Nick, his fingers tangling in her hair to hold her mouth where it is for a moment before he starts to slowly, experimentally rock his hips, pulling almost all of the way out of her mouth before sliding back in against her tongue.

[forthsofar]

Having nearly reached the point where all her nerve and daring tips over into uncertainty, it's easy for Rosie to let Nick take over. She stays obediently still as his hand tightens in her hair, and as he starts to move in a slow slide in and out of her mouth, her cheeks flame with the embarrassment of it.

[awickedtime]

He keeps his thrusts shallow as he fucks her mouth slowly, sliding his cock past her lips. "Finger yourself," he instructs. "Play with your cunt."

[forthsofar]

Rosie lets out a soft moan, but only hesitates for a moment before she's doing her best to comply with her hands still bound. She runs a finger along the furrow of her cunt, teasing herself with light touches to her clit that have her squirming. It's not what he wanted to see, she knows; not playful enough in the way he's demanded. After a few minutes, she shifts her hands enough to press two fingers inside her cunt, her hips starting to roll a bit as she fucks herself.

[awickedtime]

It's such a pretty image, the way her hips start to move as she fucks herself with her fingers, as she sucks his cock.

"That's perfect, Rosie," he says, still rocking his hips slowly. "Such a good slut, aren't you? Think you can make yourself come with my cock in your mouth, babe?"

[forthsofar]

Hearing that name, the way it sounds both affectionate and obscene when he says it, sends another complex wave of feeling through her. Rosie makes another assenting whimper as she keeps sucking at him, letting him use her while she fucks herself on her fingers. It takes some coordination, more thought than she'd imagined she might be capable of like this, but she settles into a rhythm, timing the thrust of her fingers with the way Nick slides his cock against her tongue.

It doesn't take long until she's on the edge, shaking and ready to tip over into coming.

[awickedtime]

He can see it when she's trembling on the edge, and he pushes his fingers into her curls, pulling a little. "Go on, Rosie. I want to feel what it's like when you come while you're sucking my cock."

[forthsofar]

Nick tugs at her hair, the pull sending a shiver down her spine, and she moans. Now that she has permission, knowing what he wants to see, it's easy to let herself go. She grinds against her hand, her hips snapping, until she's coming hard, letting out loud and garbled cries around Nick's cock.

[awickedtime]

It's an undignified noise and Nick loves it, loves it because it's got no control, loves it because he knows it'll make Rosie feel, how it'll make her cunt throb with the humiliation of it all.

He shifts his hips, pulling his cock out of his mouth and curling his fingers around the spit-slick shaft.

"Now I have to decide where to come."

[forthsofar]

Rosie pants once her mouth is free, simultaneously glad she can't see what she looks like and curious to know the kind of obscene picture she makes, all flushed cheeks and swollen lips, the blindfold pressed against her eyes and her wrists looped with rope. "Anywhere but my face, Nick," she asks, not even sure if it's a thing she can ask for, knowing she's laid so many choices tonight in his far more experienced hands. "Please."

[awickedtime]

"Maybe another time, babe," he says, and he jerks his cock until he comes in thick, hot spurts across the bare skin of Rosie's tits, her nipples and her collarbones.

[forthsofar]

She lets out a small, feeble cry as the first spurt of it hits her skin. Something about not being able to see him, being only able to hear the way his breath shivers out of him as he comes--as he comes on her--makes it feel hundreds of times more humiliating than it might have otherwise. Once he's done, her chest striped with his come, Rosie just stays there on her knees, unable to move for the delicious shame of it.

"Do...do I say thank you now, Nick?"

[awickedtime]

"Do you want to say thank you?" he asks, brushing her dark curls back from her forehead. "Do you want me to take a picture so that you can see what you look like this? It's beautiful."

[forthsofar]

"I don't know what I'm supposed to want, I've never done this before," she says, though there's no heat or irritation at all to the words, just plain honesty. She leans her head into the palm of his hand as he smooths her curls, and thinks.

"You can...you can take a picture," she says, surprising even herself with how easily she says it. "I might have you delete it right afterwards, but you can take it, I...I want to see what I look like."