Primal Pursuit

She goes down, humming now, and that hum does fucking things that should be illegal. I feel that vibration inside me.

I take hold of her hair and control her movements, pushing her all the way down so I can hit the back of her throat over and over and over again. The coughing and gagging are almost as good as the hum.

My balls fucking tighten as a shot of unfettered electricity comes over me. I stiffen and pull her back a little so I can unload in her sweet, hot mouth.

“Jesus,” I grit out before sucking air through my teeth as I watch how she takes every last drop. Fuck. I just came hot and hard, and all I want right now is her cunt on my tongue, thighs wrapped around my head.

I tuck myself away and get up, drink the rest of her Negroni and my whiskey, before leading her out the door.

Once we’re on the street, I push her against the wall, her eyes dazzling in the dark. “Open.”

She opens her mouth and I study the white cum there.

“Good girl. Swallow.”

Her eyes narrow as she does, and I kiss her hard, sweeping my tongue against hers, claiming every corner of her mouth. Her taste mixed with mine is exquisite, and I can’t get enough.

My hands roam her body, feeling her curves through the fabric of her dress. “You are mine tonight,” I murmuragainst her lips before pulling away and leading her to the toy store.

An hour later in the car, she’s shifting in her seat and keeps giving me looks. I spent a long time torturing her in the store by discussing the virtues of getting piss pants in her size with the clerk.

Not to mention our discussion of things I could do to her, fantasies I could live out, if I got the antique gynecological chair.

Poppy went from curious to terrified to horrified to curious again, depending on what we were looking at. I had no intention of getting her those things. Whips, paddles, nipple and clit clamps? Oh, yes.

But the leather straps, the O ring and vibrators, butt plugs and dildos I got are more than enough to make rabbit very nervous and excited. There’s definite excitement; it bleeds from her pores into the air. I can smell it.

I drive through the city, and she finally heaves out a breath. She’s soft, pliant, and half in subspace, half not. It’s interesting to watch, because I think our play brings this state out in her no matter what we’re doing. Just the idea of there being one word that can stop me from doing whatever the fuck I want with her sucks her into it.

“Where are we going?”

“Through the looking glass.”

“The tattoo place?”

“You looked it up. Such a smart rabbit.”

“Condescension is mean.”

“Darling Rabbit, you know I’m mean. You like it.”

“But I don’t like you.”

“The two can exist at the same time. We’ll call it Schrodinger’s rabbit.”

I pull up, get the bag, and go up to the door, leaving her to follow. Jackson’s expecting me, and they do a lot of after-hours work.

“Dolly, this is Rabbit.”

“Hiya. He’s in the back.”

I’m a fucking cunt. Could have introduced her as Poppy but where’s the fun in that?

We go through to the private back room. Jackson looks her up and down. “Pretty.”

“My little rabbit’s here for what we discussed.”

She stares at me, pulse jumping, and I unpack the bag, very calmly.