There will be two questions based on this section. For each question, the first two people to respond with the correct answer will win a prize. So there are a total of four winners for this scene.
Please note that you can't participate if you're under 18, because this content is strictly adult.
As Frank stared in stunned hunger, she balanced on first
one foot, then the other to slip off the fuck-me heels. “I want you to prove
you can master me. Two out of three falls.”
It wasn’t that unusual for a sub to undress at a BDSM
party; half the women here weren’t wearing a stitch. But Frank hadn’t expected
Alex to strip before they’d even finished negotiating.
He watched hungrily as she rolled the stockings down the
sleek muscle of thigh and calf. However he’d thought their first scene would
go, this wasn’t it. “Two out of three falls? Are you suggesting some kind of
fight?” He didn’t fight women. Not if he could help it anyway; sometimes the
women had other ideas.
“More like a practice bout. No punches, kicks, or choke
holds—you’d kill me.” Alex sounded utterly matter-of-fact about the whole
thing. “Just joint locks and throws. And pins. Loser taps out of the hold.” She
looked up from rolling the other stocking down her calf. She’d bent almost
double to do it, making him imagine all the erotic possibilities of a sub that
flexible. “Unless you don’t want to.”
His cock lengthened, on the verge of escaping his
waistband. Frank ignored its dicky demands; he needed to know exactly what she
intended. “So you’re not talking about me actually hitting you? Because there’s
a big difference between flogging somebody with a deerskin cat and punching her
with my fist.”
She snorted. “I have no interest in trading punches with
you, Frank. You’re too far out of my weight class.”
“Yeah, I am. What do I get if I win?” When
he won was more like it; not only was he a SEAL, he outweighed her by a hundred
pounds of muscle. She didn’t have a prayer.
Alex grinned at him as if reading his mind and shifted her
weight, calling attention to those lush female curves. “What do you want?”
“You.” He showed his teeth and let the hunger show.
She smiled. “If you win, you get me.” When his head tilted
in question, she clarified. “Sex. With a condom. However you want it.”
His smile broadened, and he started pulling off his boots. “I’ll
win.”
“Maybe. I don’t intend to make it easy.”
“Good.” After dropping his socks into his boots, he stood,
barefoot. And looked down at her from his seven-inch height advantage. Her eyes
drifted down his bare torso to the fly of his jeans, which bulged from the
pressure of his erection. “Dicks are off-limits,” he added quickly.
“Well, not completely, I hope.” Alex glanced around before
he could come up with a suitably suggestive response. “Let’s put the mats out.”
Bending, she grabbed one of them to pull it into position in the center of the
room. The sight of her round, perfect ass as she bent made his mouth go dry.
Dragging his attention back to business with an effort, he caught the other mat
and wrestled the bulky thing around beside the first one.
Frank straightened as she stepped onto the padded surface,
falling into an easy crouch that did interesting things to her breasts. He
moved to face her, his attention on those pale globes. Her nipples looked as
pink and tempting as candy.
“What’s your safeword?” He referred to the emergency code a
sub used to let the Dom know something had gone wrong during the scene, whether
physically or mentally.
“Red for stop, yellow for slow down. Green for okay.” The
stoplight system was commonly used because it was so easy to remember. “Stop,”
ironically, was the one word that was never used, mostly because some subs
liked to scream it when what they really meant was “Keep going!”
When he hesitated, Alex smirked. “We going to go, or are
you just going to stand there looking sexy?” She crouched like a knife fighter.
“Oh, we’re going.” Frank felt a hot smile spread
across his face.
He’d heard of a lot of inventive ways to play BDSM games,
but this was a variant he’d never tried.
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