Silk Scarves-Soho
Rita Barkley crashed the pots and pans in her kitchen,
taking out her frustration on them rather than her husband. Damn him! Why did
everything always have to be his way? It was the same old problem. They
disagreed over something and he made the decision. She knew that society said
that she should always defer to his ‘superior judgment’ but what were you
supposed to do when your husband was just plain wrong?
Another loud crash and Victoria started to wail. She tossed her hands in the
air. Couldn’t she even vent without someone disagreeing with her?
Jarrod came home late. He called it discretion. His brothers would have whooped
and called him a coward. Either way, he stayed late in town to work. This
morning’s fight was a big one and he wasn’t all that anxious to face his wife.
She’d be mad or sad and he wasn’t up to handling either, so he’d stayed at the
office doing work that didn’t need to be done today. And the worst of it was
that he’d dug his own grave. Now he had the time to do what she wanted in the
first place so it wasn’t like he even had a leg to stand on when it came right
down to it.
He couldn’t even remember why he’d dug his heels in so hard when she’d asked
him to change his plans. There wasn’t any really good reason, just his nagging
need to be in control. They’d argued over it time ad again for the last six
years. There were some days when he worried that eventually it would come
between them in a way that would threaten their marriage.
With almost an hour to think on the way home, he’d come up with all sorts of
rationalizations, but the bottom line was that he was being unreasonable and he
knew it. He rode into the yard and noticed the light in their bedroom window.
Great, she’d waited up for him. Now he was tired and he had a fight to look
forward to. He almost turned around and rode back to town.
Rita saw her husband ride up and stop to gaze at the house for a few minutes
before stabling Jingo. She smiled, knowing that he was worried about the
reception he was going to get. Well…he should be. He was so predictable; she
almost expected to see him ride out again. She held her breath, only letting it
out when he headed for the barn. We’ll see just who’s in charge here Counselor
Barkley.
Jarrod bucked up his courage and set a deliberately brisk pace when he entered
the house, heading for the kitchen to see what she had left him for dinner.
When there wasn’t a plate in the warmer his stomach sank. Oh great, hungry,
tired and about to have a fight. Could it get any worse? She must be really mad
to let him go without dinner. He felt like a three year old being punished and
stomped up the steps sounding like one.
Rita listened to the footsteps downstairs and giggled when she heard him making
his angry way up to their bedroom. The poor man, it was almost indecent the fun
she was having at his expense. The more she thought about her plan, the better
she liked it. Jarrod Barkley was going to learn a lesson he’d never forget.
Wearing a scowl that would have sent their four year old scurrying for cover he
entered the bedroom ready to confront her about not leaving him anything to
eat. What he found left him speechless. Rita was lying on their bed wearing a
silk peignoir. It was one he’d bought for her last year when they’d traveled to
New Orleans on Barkley business. There was a table in the corner, set for a
candle light dinner and a bottle of wine open and chilled.
She stood and sauntered over to him, planting a seductive kiss on a mouth that
hung slightly agape. Before he had any chance to react she slipped her hands
inside his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders and onto the floor.
“Welcome home darling!” Her smile was warm and inviting, making his heart
flutter. “Are you hungry?” Her hand trailed down his chest and stomach in a way
that said she wasn’t talking about food. His heart beat faster and the familiar
tugging in his manhood began.
She led him to the table and sat him down, retrieving the dishes left by the
fireplace to keep warm. “I didn’t want to get too fancy because I didn’t know
when you’d be home.” If Jarrod had been thinking clearly, that little comment
would have raised warning signals. As it was, relief and lust were vying for
top honors in clouding his judgment.
They ate in silence save for the occasional moan that passed his lips as she
ran her foot along his thigh and massaged him through his pants. His hardon
brought a smile to her face. Barefoot, her toes inched their way from base to
tip. His fork paused halfway to his lips, trembled as he inhaled and stared
wide eyed at her, then retraced its path as she rolled the ball of her foot
over the head. His thighs tensed seeking more contact. She held his gaze,
traced the path past back down to his sack then allowed her foot to drop to the
floor. His head dropped and he gasped at the loss. “Eat your dinner darling. I
have a special dessert for you.”
At the end of the meal she stood, poured him another glass of wine, and
suggested he change for bed while she cleared the dishes. Kneeling beside him,
she pressed a kiss to his mouth and made his cock twitch. His arms reached up
to pull her into a passionate embrace but she trapped his wrists. “Don’t
touch!” She placed them on the table.
Her hand slid inside his shirt and found a hardened nipple, played with it,
then abandoned it in favor of caressing the heat that strained against his
slacks. He gripped the edge as shivers ran down his spine and nodded,
dumbfounded by what was happening. She stroked him lightly, enough to arouse
but not to relieve his need, leaving him worse off than before. The growing wet
spot on his pants told her how much he wanted her.
She worked the straining buttons, unfastening only the top two and slid fingers
in to expose his dripping head. She abandoned his mouth and bent down, her
breath danced across the sensitive tip, her tongue darted out to caress the
crown. She opened her mouth and took the throbbing head inside, using her
tongue and teeth to tease that most sensitive flesh just beneath the ridge.
“Oh God! Baby….please!” His hips bucked as he tried to force himself deeper
into her warmth.
She reached up trapping his hands on the table with her one hand, pressing his
hips down with the other, still working him with her mouth. He felt the burn
begin and let out another strangled. “Oh God!” Knowing he was at the very edge,
she raised her head, smiled, and stood up.
Jarrod just stared at her as she gathered the plates and left the room.
Bringing back a covered tray that she set on the floor, she checked the bed to
make sure everything was ready and then went about lighting a fire in the
hearth. She had been deliberately slow, giving him time to cool his desire. She
smiled. She knew Jarrod Barkley, knew he would try to reassert some semblance
of control over what was happening.
Returning from the dressing room, the heavy silk pajama bottoms did nothing to
hide Jarrod’s need. The feel of the rich fabric against the head that she has
worked so expertly shot waves of carnal desire through him. Standing still was
impossible, moving was unbearable. The slip of soft fabric across his manhood
as he walked almost brought him to his knees. He came to stand behind her, arms
wrapped around her waist, pressing his erection into her buttocks, trembling
with want. His hands roamed her body and he nuzzled her neck, planting kisses
in the places that he knew aroused her the most. His hand slid over the silky
garment and found the three hard nubs he could use to send her into ecstasy. It
was a delicious feeling. She was right, he was trying to take charge. God he
excited her, but if she let herself get distracted then all her planning would
be for nothing.
She shrugged from his grasp and walked to the bed. “Lie down sweetheart, I know
you’re tired. Tell me about your day.”
Jarrod’s eyes widened in frustration. He almost cried out and demanded she
yield to him, but then he sighed; so this was the way it was going to be. Well,
he supposed the teasing was a small price to pay for being unreasonable this
morning. Besides, he had never seen this side of his wife before. He thought he
would play her game, at least for a while.
Despite his desire, Jarrod was tired. Weeks of long hours had worn him down and
Rita knew that he would doze off fairly quickly once he’d lain down. She’d made
sure he didn’t eat much and had the second glass of wine just for that reason.
“Jarrod, darling, wake up.” She whispered to him, her voice low and sultry, her
breath warm in his ear sending chills along his spine.
“Mmmmm” He moaned in appreciation and started to roll towards her, only to find
that his arms and legs weren’t going anywhere. His eyes flew open and he was
looking into the face of his wife, dressed in some of the skimpier French silk
underwear he’d bought for her. Underwear he was sure he’d never seen on her
before. The room was lit by candles, the temperature unusually warm. His robe
was gone, along with his pants. The only thing covering him was a light silk
sheet, another souvenir of their trip South. Her fingers were trailing over his
abdomen and it was clear he wasn’t going anywhere. Rita had used the long silk
scarves that he’d given her for Christmas to tie his wrists and ankles to the
bed frame.
“Rita, what the devil...”
She frowned at him and pressed soft fingers to his lips. “Shhhhhhh. No speaking
Counselor. This isn’t a court room.” Her fingernails trailed down along his
jawline and the side of his neck, both sharp and exciting. She settled on the
bed beside him and bent over to kiss him. “Behave yourself and I guarantee you
a good time. If you’re bad, I’ll have to teach you a lesson.” The kiss deepened
and she started to suck on his tongue, pulling it in and out of her mouth,
sending messages of arousal downward.
The dark intensity in her eyes caused him to gasp. The slight flare of her
nostrils, the deliberateness of her breathing, he’d never seen her quite like
this before. His arousal had mostly subsided while he’d slept, although when
she had been undressing and tying him she’d taken the time to stroke it until
his hips thrust and she’d felt it begin to grow again. She’d played the game
twice, careful not to bring him up from sleep. Now, bound and at her mercy, he
began to harden again under the sheet. The gentle caress of the fabric against
his sensitive head was maddening.
Jarrod’s arms were pulled straight above his head, exposing his ribs
completely. Rita took advantage of the position to lightly brush her fingers
along them, down the side and then across and up the center of his chest . He
tensed unsure if she would tease or tickle. Briefly she fluttered them against
his skin, and he shrank away trying to escape the childish torment. He tugged
at the bonds, finding them tight and firm and his heart began to race.
“Ticklish Counselor?”
“You know I am.” His voice was husky. She frowned again, and shook her head. “I
thought I told you the rules, no talking.” Reaching under the sheet to where
his manhood lay, hard and hot, she brushed her fingers over the head, eliciting
moans of pleasure, then abruptly stopped, leaving him straining against his
bonds, needing the pleasure that contact would give. “Please!”
“Again you disobey me, Counselor!” She took his chin in her hand and frowned.
“You are a very naughty boy. I can see I’m going to have to take stronger
measures.”
Jarrod shivered at her words. His mind screamed against the loss of control, a
frisson of fear played along his nerves, but deep within another part of him
quivered with anticipation. Even when they made love, he was always in control
of the situation. Rita reached under the pillow and pulled out yet another
scarf. She trailed it down across his shoulder, then reached up to quickly tie
it across his eyes before he could object. “No!” Now he was blind and couldn’t
move, he had never been so helpless, so vulnerable. His heart pounded and his
breathing quickened.
Rita leaned down to whisper in his ear soothingly “Relax my love. You trust me
not to hurt you, don’t you?” Jarrod nodded and struggled to calm the ragged
breathing that was part anxiety and part arousal. She looked up and saw his
hands clutched around the bindings. Taking a bottle of oil from the night stand
she warmed some in her hand then softly began to stroke along each hand and
finger until the tension left them. Her hand brushed against the skin of his
chest sending shivers. She started to touch him in all the places that she knew
would pleasure him. The dancing, stroking fingers moved at random joined by
needy lips, breath, tongue. Sightless, he never knew where or when the next
touch would come making his whole body tense with anticipation only to explode
in wave after wave of erotic sensation as the next bit of bare skin was
explored. Not knowing was driving him to new heights of arousal and it was
obvious as his erection grew more massive than she had ever seen it.
Seeing that he was almost beyond control she reached down and lifted the
covered dish to the nightstand. Dipping her hand in the half melted bowl of ice
she held a shard aloft and let it drip onto his overheated skin. “Auuuughhhh!”
Jarrod bucked against his bonds and whimpered at this newest onslaught of
pleasured pain. Another sliver and he was almost babbling. A last foray to the
bowl and she allowed the drops to fall on his cock, watching in fascination as
he gasped with the overwhelming waves of sensation.
Starting again on his sensitized skin, nails raked his hardened nipples until
he cried out with desire. Fingers and lips explored his chest and abdomen,
sucking, biting, tracing delicate lines of touch down his ribs and along his
belly, to the crease between hip and thigh. He strained to shift her path to
where his need demanded but she skirted his weeping erection, with the barest
whisper of touch.
His legs were tied slightly apart, leaving him exposed completely to her and
she used her teeth to nip at the tender flesh of his inner thighs. Working her
way up to kiss the sack that was pulled up taut against is body. The kisses
took him to the edge of surrender the moment she took his balls in her mouth he
fell over the brink and abandoned any hope of control. His cries of pleasure we
primal, torn from some inner well of heated desire too long kept in check. He
sunk into the pool of wanton desire she created in him and lost all sense of
time or place until the moment when her soft hot mouth closed over his head. It
was pleasure like none he’d ever known and he screamed with the shock of it.
Rita had expected to be aroused by her husband’s reactions but nothing had
prepared her for the depth of his enjoyment or the desire his cries awoke in
her. Her power over him was intoxicating. Pushing the blindfold off his eyes,
she let him watch as first she sucked on a piece of ice, then she took him into
her mouth. The cold heat was like nothing he’d ever felt before. He was
desperate for more and she used her tongue to send waves of pleasure through
him. She needed to see his eyes as each time he came close to peaking she would
stop, letting the building explosion recede just enough to make another touch
bearable.
Finally her own need to be filled by him drove her to slide the sheer silk from
her own body. Loosing her long black curls so that they trailed down her chest,
she stood there displayed for him. In one graceful move she slid across his
body, trailing her wetness, until he was beneath her with the raging heat of
her desire centered over his already desperate flesh. She raised up and held
herself with his head just at the hot wet entrance to her womb. He strained
upward and she moved just out of reach. He begged with his eyes and she glided
down on him with a moan of pleasure at how his enormous manhood filled her. The
cry shot daggers though his body. Her warmth almost drove him over the edge but
she held herself still, weighing him down and keeping him from thrusting,
prolonging his last moments.
She rose up again until all but his head was outside her. The contrast of her
molten heat and the cold air on his heated shaft created an exquisite pain that
drove him into a frenzy. Her dark eyes gazed into his as she smiled and reached
down, letting him watch her as she touched herself. As her climax neared her
muscles began to tighten and she drove herself down on him. Filled as she was,
it took only a minute to bring herself to the brink, and then without warning
she raised herself up and thrust down on him once more, crying out as her own orgasm
crashed through her body. Enveloped in the pulsing tightness of her womanhood,
his own explosion followed, as the two strained thrusting wildly into one
another, needing more and willing their pleasure to last forever.
In the panting sweating aftermath, Rita collapsed on him and reached up to pull
the silken length that would release his hands. His arms enveloped her and he
pulled her against him until they both had calmed. Jarrod sat up, his wife
spooned in front of him. She reached down to release his legs then curled into
his embrace.
She kissed him once more, passionately to get his attention. “Now, about
tomorrow, Counselor…”