Page 74 of Her Guardian
I’m modeling underwear for Big Boyd.
I’m still a little overwhelmed by it all, but I’m getting used to it. Getting used to what it means to behis. Being able to walk into a store and try on anything I want. Having my own personal dressing room and an attendant, ready to cater to all of my needs.
Except I think Boyd is the one who is needy right now. I see the way he’s squirming on the couch. See the hardness pressing against his pants. My body is reacting to it, too. I’m not sure what they do with the underwear people try on and don’t buy, but I don’t think anyone would want the ones I’ve tried on. I’m leaving a damp spot on every single pair of panties.
“Last one,” Boyd announces, narrowing his eyes and shifting on the couch as I walk closer. “Unless you want to pick out some more to model for me.”
“I think I’ve got enough,” I sigh, turning to show him my ass before I walk back to the table.
I remove the bra first and place it on the table next to the others. When my fingers move to the waistband of the panties, Boyd stands up from the couch. I watch him in the mirror as he walks behind me, pushing my hands away.
“I’ll help you take these off,” he says, putting his hands on my hips.
Boyd’s rough, callused fingers dig into my skin as he slides my panties down. I gasp when I feel them peeled away from the wetness between my thighs. Boyd traces his way down the back of my thighs, and I lift each foot so he can remove the panties. His lips press against the back of my thigh as he kisses his way back up, but he doesn’t stand. He puts a hand on my back, pushes me forward against the table, and I feel his breath on my folds.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I whimper.
“Giving you a little reward for putting on such a good show,” he murmurs, his tongue darting out and licking my entrance.
“Boyd, no,” I protest weakly, slapping back at him with no real force. “Everyone will hear.”
“Who gives a fuck?” His tongue moves to my clit before he continues. “You’re mine, Sarah. Any time, any place.”
I brace my hands on the table as Boyd’s tongue makes circles around my clit. I want to protest. Tell him to stop. But I can’t. His tongue feels too good. I whimper, groan, and push back against him, eager for more of his tongue after he works me into a frenzy.
“Oh, damn, Boyd,” I moan, gasping for my next breath. “This is so wrong. Doing this in public…”
But Boyd doesn’t relent. His tongue keeps moving with maddening precision. Circling. Flicking. Caressing my clit, folds, and pushing into my entrance. That’s enough to make my legs tremble until they almost give out. I fall forward against the table, my arms getting weaker with every jolt of pleasure that radiates from my core.
He’s relentless, moving his tongue with so much speed it makes me forget where I am. That we’re in a boutique. That the woman who brought me the underwear I picked out could return at any moment and hear everything, even if the door is locked. That other customers could hear the noise coming from this dressing room and know exactly what is going on.
His tongue slithers to my clit and stays there while his fingers move to my folds, stroking them gently while I quiver. He knows exactly where to touch—and touching isn’t all he’s doing. A finger parts my folds and rubs my pussy before he pushes into me.
My breathing is getting heavier when he pushes deeper and starts moving his finger, curling it so that it hits the spot inside me that makes my entire body jerk. Heat pools in my core, building with every flick of his tongue. He pulls it away and his finger moves faster.
“You should see yourself,” he murmurs, his voice low with a hint of possessiveness. “Bent over this table. Trembling for me like a good girl. I think you need more than just my finger and tongue, don’t you?”
I try to answer, but the words catch in my throat as his finger curls again. My nails dig into the table, and I shudder, then get a stinging slap on my ass.
“Ow!” I squeal, clenching on his finger as he catches me by surprise.
“Answer me,” he demands.
“Please,” I whisper, barely able to find my voice as his finger continues moving. “Boyd, this is going to make me…”
He presses his mouth against me harder, sucking gently as his finger moves faster. His tongue presses against my clit and the sensitive bundle of nerves ignite again. The pleasure surges through my body until I can’t stand it anymore.
“Permission!” I squeal. “Permission to come, Boyd!”
“Permission granted,” he chuckles, his laugh vibrating inside me before I feel his tongue again.
The tension inside me snaps and I unravel with an orgasm that rocks me hard. I moan and writhe against the table as the waves of pleasure ripple through me like a current. I can’t think. Can’t move. All I can do is feel him everywhere as my body shakes with bliss.
Boyd keeps licking, sucking, and driving his finger into me until the orgasm subsides. Then he stands and I know what is coming before I hear his belt. There’s no reason to protest. No reason to fight it. If Boyd wants me, he’ll have me, even here, bent over a table in the dressing room of a fancy boutique I’m still not sure I could pronounce, despite hearing it out loud when we arrived.
My legs are trembling. Boyd steadies me, one hand on my hip, the other gripping his cock. He rubs the head against mywet folds and immediately pushes in. I gasp and push back, welcoming him as he hilts himself inside me.
“You feel so fucking good, Sarah,” he rasps, the hand on my hip moving my shoulder as he settles into position. “You don’t have to ask permission this time. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t come multiple times, considering how hard I’m about to fuck you.”
