WINTER GAMES

Allyson Shannon

No one’s out here. Are you going to do it?”

I glance around and it’s true, we’re alone. This public park is empty, as one would expect in the midst of winter in Michigan. There’s no snow on the ground but it’s cold and ugly out; everything is varying shades of gray. We’re in a parking lot far from the water, where there’s nothing to see but bare trees and asphalt, the kind of place where people go to do the kinds of things he’s proposing I do. I turn the heat up a notch and look at him sideways. “I will but only if you tell me to instead of asking.”

“I’m working on it,” he says, his gloved hands curled around the steering wheel. I get wet imagining those hands on me, pressing me down to my knees once he really gets the hang of this.

“It’s okay. If I don’t want to do something, I’ll say my word. All you have to do is tell me and I’ll do it. So tell me.”

His hands tighten on the wheel, he clenches his jaw, and I can see the quick rise and fall of his chest under his puffy coat. He licks his lips and his eyes make another sweep of the area before coming to rest on me. “Sorry. Newbie nerves.” He smiles, his teeth flashing movie-star white against his deep-brown skin. “Take off your mittens and pull your tights down. No panties, right?”

Even with the heat on, the seat is still cool against my bare ass where my skirt has bunched up. “Right.” I flip it up so he can see that I complied and then tilt my hips forward and spread my thighs so he can see how ready I am.

“Fuck,” he groans, his gaze riveted to my hard clit, nestled in my trimmed bush like a fat pink pearl. I watch, fascinated, as he gives in to his desire and lets his cool, commanding side take over. He sits taller in his seat, the smile fading as his eyes rake over me like he owns me. “Touch yourself. Make yourself come for me.”

Yes, Sir. I don’t call him that out loud; I don’t call him anything but his name when we play. It’s not a necessity, at least not yet, while he’s a baby Dom. I simply say yes and do it.

The sound of me fucking myself is obscenely loud in his small, eco-friendly car. This won’t take long. Being told what to do has me halfway there, but I hope he stops me a few times just to make me suffer. I want him to make me beg for it. I’m silent, focused, my teeth sunk into my bottom lip. He’s watching me, his eyes flicking back and forth between my face and my fingers in my slippery cunt, and occasionally out at the parking lot around us. One minute he’s over there on his side of the car, practically vibrating with lust; the next, he’s looming over me, yanking my coat open and shoving my sweater up around my neck. I left the bra at home with the panties so there is nothing to get in the way of his squeezing hands or his lapping tongue.

“Don’t stop,” he grumbles around a mouthful of tit and I feel it in my pussy, my fingers moving faster as the need to come intensifies. I try to touch him, to hold on to him with my free hand, but he catches my wrist and holds my arm down the way he knows I like it. I’m close and I feel compelled to let him know, hoping he’s feeling cruel enough to make me wait.

He cuts off my warning with a hand over my mouth. The gloves are still on because he knows how much I love the smell of leather warmed by his skin. He tells me to stop, but I’m not sure that I can. I’m in the place where a well-chosen word can set me off.

“Hey.” He’s in my face, one hand still covering my mouth, the other tightening around my wrist in a way that I’m sure he thinks will ground me but is instead pushing me closer to the edge. “Hey,” he repeats. “Look at me…breathe. That’s it. Good girl.”

Once I’ve got myself mostly under control, he takes his hands off of me and slumps back in his seat, huffing and puffing like he’s the one who’s about to blow while it’s me who’s sprawled out half-naked in a car in a public park in broad daylight, desperate to come but struggling not to.

“Don’t move.” He pops his door, letting in a blast of cold air that makes it difficult to keep still. By the time he gets around to my side, he’s already got his belt undone, his jeans unzipped, and his cock out. He opens my door just wide enough to wedge his body between it and the car.

“I’m literally going to freeze my tits off.”

“Then turn the heat up and get busy.” He leans down and gives me a smug look. “Unless you’ve got something else you want to tell me.”

In the month or so that we’ve been doing this, there hasn’t been one instance where I’ve had to safeword out and I’m not about to now because of a little frigid air. I crank the heat up to high and place my hand over his on his cock, scanning the area once more.

He cups my cheek, stroking my lips with a leather-sheathed thumb. “I won’t let anything bad happen. I’ll take care of you.”

I know both of these things are true. We wouldn’t be playing these games if we didn’t completely trust each other.

“You’re taking too long.” He winds my braids around one hand and holds my chin with the other so that he can thrust into my mouth, a power move that he knows my body will respond to. “Maybe we should just go home.” His threat of delayed gratification might as well be an order to come, and my clit obeys. For a moment, I forget where I am. I don’t care about getting caught out here or about the cold or even about him. The only thing that matters is how good he makes me feel—until he pounds a fist on the roof of the car, his cock pulses, and I hurry to swallow his come down.

“Are you okay?” Once he’s dressed and in the driver’s seat again, he helps me get back into my clothes and passes me a thermos of hot cocoa. He zips my coat, pulls the furry hood up, and tucks my braids away inside of it, pausing to take my face tenderly in his hands for a kiss.

“I’m fine. A little chilly but nothing you can’t fix with more cocoa and a nice, long cuddle session.” I get warmer just thinking about the way he pampers me after we play. “You’re getting so good at this. How do you feel about me calling you Sir?”