First-time poster. Criticism and critiques welcome. More to share if interested.
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This whole week has been so dull. Nothing eventful, nothing interesting, just so utterly unexciting. I was headed here regardless, but when I noticed she was walking this way, too, I felt a bit of my boredom slip away. Few people know about the Hall, but those who do often pique interest in ways of their own. I make my way there, glad to feel less bored as I study her as she walks about 12 feet ahead of me. I don’t close the distance any. I try to guess why you’re going to the Hall; if it’s also to get a little excitement after a tedious week.
She walks well in her black wedges. Her long auburn hair is wavy and bounces ever so slighty behind her as she moves along down the corridor. The Hall is not easy to find, but once you’re in the hallway to it, there’s only one path to follow to its entrance a few minutes away. It leads downwards and twists every so often, giving me time to wonder about her motives and stare at her truly lovely ass. I didn’t see her walk in the corridor before me; she must have just entered the doorway before I did. Perhaps as I was setting my empty glass on the bar, I think to myself.
Twenty seconds into our shared-yet-distant walk, you glance over your shoulder to see whose footsteps have joined you; quickly averting your eyes you keep going, but not before I see a slight blush flush your cheeks. Even in the less than optimal lighting in the corridor, I could tell you’re beautiful. You’re beautiful, but not in a conventional way. Not model beautiful, and not girl-next-door pretty either– a striking, double-take but can’t fully place why kind of way.
You dart into the Hall’s large, heavy wooden doors, before I can even attempt to offer a chivalrous effort. You have to be familiar with the Hall. If you know about it, you’ve been before for one reason or another. And I want to know yours; why you also ducked into the obscure prohibition-era hallway so few realize exists in the overpriced bar. Those who do notice it by chance just assume it’s for employees and avoid it.
I enter through the wooden doors mere seconds after you, nodding a greeting to the attendant. I continue my observation of you now in a far better lighting. You slowly meander from option to option before you. “Just pick one!” my mind yells silently after minutes of watching you look at the options splayed out on the table.
You don’t even have to pick one, but honestly, you may as well for a full, augmented experience. You can select an enhancer— some act as a sedative, others are stimulants, some increase physical sensations, some increase dopamine levels, some act as muscle relaxers. It’s like adding a flavor shot to your coffee; you come in and pick your poison, and go on with whatever you have planned for your evening at the Hall.
I watch you mill about the variety of tasteless dissolving patches, trying to figure out why you’re here, what you’re into. Your indecisiveness is annoying me further every second. The attendant is patient and stands awaiting your choice.
It’s driving me crazy. You just pick have to pick something, anything. Whatever sounds like a nice add-on to your night’s endeavors. They all are fitting in one way or another here in the Hall, it just depends on your preference or what you’re feeling for the evening. But you won’t.
I decide to act on it.
The attendant’s been eyeing me since I walked in mere moments after you. I have stood off to the side to give you your privacy at the table, but you’re taking too long and I want answers to my questions. I approach the attendant, and say confidently, “She’ll have the sensation heightener.”
You turn around shocked and meet my eyes, but you say nothing as the attendant’s gloved hand holds it out to you. You smile at him kindly before turning your gaze at me and sticking out your tongue for him to place it on, taking it. You don’t break eye contact with me as you pull it into your palette. I can’t help but wonder what else that perfectly pink tongue will take.
I hold out my arm, gesturing the way forward. “Shall we?” I can tell you have a few questions for me as well. You smirk and oblige, taking my arm in yours and allowing me to lead the way. Once we’re out of earshot, you ask, “Why the heightener?”
“Because I was getting bothered by your indecision,” I say honestly as we continue towards the lounge. Fittingly, you seem unsure how you want to answer my honesty. The Hall is vast, it opens into a private retreat of sorts. It’s notorious for being an escape for people who need release. A type of release that isn’t considered normal, but isn’t morbid by any means. There are suites and spas here, and, of course, play rooms.
“I was just weighing my options,” you say with an innocent tilt of your head. It tosses your long, wavy locks to the side.
“Well, what do you hope to get from the Hall this evening? Knowing that should have made picking an enhancer easy,” I retort.
“That’s the thing,” you say. “I don’t know what I want.”
More indecisiveness. I know precisely why I’m here. No one comes to the Hall without knowing what they want. I’m ready to leave you here to get a drink or wander off to find whatever it is you want so I can do the same.
“Well in a place like this, you ought to know,” I say, not doing my best to hide my slight annoyance. “There is such an expanse of options, you should at least be able to decide based on avoiding what you don’t like,” I continue. “With options for your night spanning from savoring pure vanilla to being used, bruised and beaten, you ought to know what you do and don’t want or like,” I say watching her blush deeply before turning her eyes down to her darkly painted toes peeping out from the end of her heels. I don’t understand why she’s taking an easy choice and muddling it. I pull my arm away and turn to leave in pursuit of my own evening’s pleasure.
“But I don’t,” she starts as I step away. “Help me learn.”
I turn half facing her, ready to continue my way to the elevator. “I certainly can’t tell you what you do and don’t like,” I respond trying to hide my annoyance. She’s lucky she’s beautiful, I think to myself. If she wasn’t so easy to look at in that charcoal gray bodycon dress, I wouldn’t have bothered to turn around at all.
“No,” you say hesitantly, “But you could show me?” You posed it as a question and don’t seem to want me to leave. I wonder if the sensation heightner has started to slip into your bloodstream.
“Oh, I sure could,” I think to myself. I grin and decide to drop my previous evening plans and start them over now. “That your first time taking the heightener?” I ask.
“Yes, I wasn’t really sure what all that stuff on the table was, honestly,” you say.
I struggle to fully comprehend this. Everyone who comes to the Hall knows the ways of the Hall. Some people end up blackout drunk from mixing certain enhancers especially if they pair drinking or other vices with their evening. I assume that’s her story.
“How’s that? Was your last Hall visit your first and you blacked out?” I ask, ready to leave again. That’s not the kind of night I’m looking for.
“I’ve never been here. I just followed the hallway. I was intrigued, and when I realized someone was headed this way behind me I figured I was headed somewhere interesting. I know you caught my eye when I turned to look at you shortly after you entered the passageway too.” Guilty. She did catch me looking –staring, really– at her curves wrapped so tightly in that dress. “I figured a man dressed as nicely as you was headed somewhere fancy. You didn’t seem threatening, so I continued onwards.”
“Oh, how wrong,” my mind growls. I smile and verbalize almost condescendingly, “So you don’t know where you are, or what you took, or why you took it?”
“I think I am starting to understand where I am, you told me what I took before I took it, and I know why I let it melt away on my tongue,” you say.
“And why’s that?” I ask back, genuinely interested.
“Because you practically told me to,” you say with an air of confidence before your voice trails off more coyly, “You seemed so sure,” You say more quietly, almost like you meant to say it only to yourself.
I don’t really understand your dilemma here, as I try to stop myself from thinking what else you’ll do if I tell you to. “Shall I drop you off at the spa? Or one of the suites, perhaps?” I say, letting you take the out if you want it. I’ll have a great night regardless; I have plans to meet a blonde and brunette pair in a little less than an hour in my suite. They don’t disappoint, and they know what they want as well as what I want.
“I told you I don’t know what I want. Help me find out,” you plead and tug at my hand.
Fuck it, I’ll bite. “You do know what you want. Tell me.” I demand.
“I don’t…,” you bite your lip. I turn to leave. “I just want it to be good,” you say in a small voice; losing your pleading tone.
We haven’t even done anything and already you sound defeated; I kind of like it. I feel my cock twitch. “Shoot, practically anything will feel good when that enhancer kicks in.” I know it has already, but pretend not to notice the slight squirm you’ve developed– as if your clothes now feel just a bit too constrictive– and the way you can’t seem to stop rubbing your thumb against my palm as you wait for a response. You nod at what I’ve said, but won’t look me in the eyes. The sudden desperation I see in you solidifies my decision.
“Come on then, darling.” I say pulling you toward the elevator, trying to hide both my dismay at your seemingly unceasing indecisiveness and the deep hunger you’re stirring in me. I send the girls a text, cancelling on them for the evening. They send me a selfie of them pouting together. I make a mental note to reschedule with them and their sad, stand out lower lips.
You come along somewhat nervously. I hope I didn’t just throw away a damn good time for something that’ll prove disappointing in an already unexciting week. I backtrack to the thought of what else you may do if told to as I mash the elevator’s up button and wrap my arm around your waist. I casually trace my thumb up along your hip bone. I move lightly across the fabric of your dress, knowing that every physical sensation will be different for you right now thanks to the little square you so willingly let disappear on your tongue. I plan on dragging this elevator ride out. I smirk as a handsome guy and a stunning woman wander out of the elevator doors and into the longue, freeing it up for us.
I pull my arm from your side to your lower back and goad you, pressing you forward. I lead you in, hit the 17th floor button and crowd you against the corner. Forcing you into the corner allows much of your body to have contact with the mirrored walls. I want you to feel it. Hard and cold against your sides and back. I press against you. Hard and hot against your front. “You sure this is what you want?” I ask breathing on your neck, knowing the torment the sensations must be.wreaking on your nerves.
The breathy “Uh huh,” and eager nod I get in response as you squirm there is plenty of a reaction.
The doors ding open, and I pull you down the hall to my suite. The Hall never disappoints me, the lights are dimmed in my smartly designed room, Its modern features glint with the glows of candles burning in front of the huge, open curtains overlooking the city lit up in all its nighttime glory. I don’t plan on making this easy on you. You’re not really supposed to have gotten in the Hall in the first place.
“So tell me what you want,” I say as the door to my room clicks shut behind us.
“I don’t know. Just make it good.” Back to your shy demeanor, but at least you looked me in the eyes for the first part of your response.
“Oh, sweetheart, we’re gonna have you telling me more by the end of this or I’ll make you miserable,” I threaten, a dark flash in my eyes, as I walk towards you.
You think I’m playing with you. I can tell be your candid reaction. Too bad for you, I’m not.
I crowd you to the white fluffy comforter and push you backwards onto the king-size mattress. You look nervous, but not scared.
“What do you want?” I ask huskily.
“I don’t kn–,” you start. I slap your thigh hard. You immediately learn that the heightener can be a blessing and a curse. “Owww-uch!” you whine, unsure as you search my face. I see fear, confusion and something else.
There’s a pink handprint glowing hotly on your thigh. My cock jumps at the sight of it. I know it hurts, surely feeling hotter than the afterburn of any slap you’ve endured and stinging harsher than it would if the enhancer wasn’t coursing through you. “Tell me. You don’t want me to ask again,” I say firmly.
You nod quickly, agreeing. “Kiss me, please?” you ask. It’s not a demand, but its progress enough. “There’s a clever girl,” I say as I tenderly kiss the reddened spot on your thigh before moving up to the full lips I watched you bite into indecisively downstairs.
You gasp lightly when our lips meet; every little sensation feeling huge. I guide my tongue past your pearly teeth and pulse it against yours. You let a small sound slip, and I think to myself just how long of a night you’re in for.
“What do you want?” I ask again between kisses. You hesitate and I bite down harshly on your lovely bottom lip. “Play with me,” you spurt out earnestly.
It’s cute that you don’t realize I am. I bite down less harshly on your lip, sucking on it as an apology. I kiss and tongue my way along your jaw and neck to your collarbone; letting my fingers roam lightly over your body feeling you squirm uncomfortably in your clinging dress. “But not for long,” I think to myself.
I don’t know what she considers play, but she’s about to find out my version.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/9tyx76/play_with_me_part_1_mf_ds_sm