Crimson Crossing – Stories in Erotica

Kirin Black – Our Japanese Beer

Leave a comment

They were never meant to be innocent, the interactions that were going to had that day. They came thanks to a large wager she and I had agreed upon. To this date she does not know that she could have never won. I cheated, and am happy to have done so. I had lost enough of these arrangements to her to feel quite at peace about skewing the results on my favor. Thankfully that I did because I would have lost. But, because of my premeditated behavior, I am able to relate the events that transpired.

The winner was to do as wished but, wine and dine had to be part of the arrangement. The wager would be voided if the dinning and winning part was of the agreement was violated. The place didn’t matter as long as it was quiet, and relatively upscale. She and I were extremely good friends; while I found her attractive, and hoped she did I as well, the closest we came to anything that transpired that night was telling each other about one another’s rendezvous.

I picked the latest available reservation at the local sushi restaurant: an 11:30 PM opening. It was a very small place, no more than 7 tables. The venue was heavily Japanese, so much so that we labored to order the meal and drinks: a Sushi-Sashimi Boat for 2, and hot sake. We left most of our meal because a major part of the night was spent revealing the details of what she would endure.

Japanese Kirin BeerJapanese Tokyo Black BeerWe left the restaurant at 2:00 AM as we had decided to remain at the small bar tasting a few of the large selection of Japanese beer available. We didn’t finish one bottle between the two, though we ordered some 12 beers. A sip of each was all we had while trying to figure out the code name to give the night in case we ever wanted to remind each other of it in front of others. She preferred the Kirin Ichiban, while I enjoyed the darker Tokyo Black. Because we couldn’t settle on a code name, it was decided to mix the two and name the night Kirin Black.

In the spirit of the night, unintentionally at that, I suggested we stay in one of my clients flats nearby Newport on the Lake. I was amidst renovating the flat, and had just finished the bathroom where I installed an Ofuro Soaking Tub with a spectacular view. By the time we reached the flat it was 3:30 AM. Not only am I a slow driver, but the continuous stopping bickering about the details of actions to take place made a longer driver than it really is.

The doorman looked at me oddly. He knew that I was working in the building, but didn’t see a reason why I should be there that early in the morning. The flat was almost finished, the master bedroom, and bathroom were completed, but the floor in the rest of the house were yet to be laid. I had chosen Black Mamba Horizontal Handscraped wood for it, just like in the bedroom.

She took a bath, and I sat on the toilet ironing out the details of the night. I didn’t see why there had to be so much ironing out of details when I had won the wager and was to do as I pleased. After I took a bath, we headed to the outside pool. By now it was about 4:45 AM almost 5 AM. Thought I felt tired, I was not sleepy, neither was she. At least she was used to the nightlife. I wasn’t. I worked early mornings while she worked nights saving Bars from moronic owners.

Her tied up at pool sideThere was absolutely no one at poolside, just us two, bad lighting, and my camera to take a picture of her tied up. Even through that we bickered. But, pay no attention to her I did. I knew as a fact that she was always the controlling participant during romantic encounters. She was the type to scratch, bite, and make her partners bleed from the digging of nails into the skin; the scratches across the back. She had told me too much. She had even revealed the fantasy of relinquishing all control.

I had not thought this through, had I, I would have tied her up in the bathroom, rather than at poolside. I had to carry her into the building, up too many flights of stairs because she refused to be seen tied up in an elevator, and into the flat. She must have gotten some sort of panic attack because she laughed uncontrollably for some time. She laughed up the stairs, and all the way to the moment where I undressed myself and filled the Ofuro tub with water half way.

Ofuro Soaking TubI lifted her, stood her on her knees inside the tub, and used my years of hair tugging and pulling to tie her hair in pigtails. The water came up to breast level, and it was very cold. We shivered like fools for a bit waiting for me to complete the pigtails, and for her to stop laughing as she had resumed upon placing her inside the tub. I left her bikini on, didn’t bother removing it. I had a better idea for them if I did go through with all that I crafted inside my head.

By this time the clear of the day was coming to bloom. It was a pretty sight of the lake down below, but nothing to be compared to what I hoped peeping toms would see coming from the inside. We had agreed that there would be no sweet spots, that I would force my way to her, that I would do my best to create tub distress.

I stood back just a tad to look at her. She looked at me and asked to get it over with, that I needed to get to work, and she needed to return home to her boyfriend. I said nothing, grabbed the back of her neck and submerged her for a split second. She came up laughing, shaking her head. Repeating “No, you did not just submerge me.” I did it over and over and over, not too long, not too short. Just long enough for her to stop laughing. Her eyes were red, her mouth spitting water, trying to gasp for hair. She looked at me with an evil look. The type that curses at one, while expressing how well received the actions are; the type that asks for more; the type one hates, but loves to get; the type that your parents alert one of not being involved, yet that’s what one desires.

As I submerged her again, and shoved her body from side to side, I pulled her up. When she went to gasp for air, I shoved my penis inside her mouth causing her to cough from the depth in which I went inside her throat. I’m not very big, but I’m also not very tiny, just the right amount of so to feel the back of her mouth pressing against my head. She would have fought, but being bound as I had her, all she had was her eyes to express her sentiments, and mouth when it wasn’t occupied with my bliss.

I grabbed her by both ponytails, shoved my pelvis forward expecting the collision of her face against me, and I pulled hard. Instead of pulling her back right away, I left her there, pulling on her ponytails as for her not to go free. I heard her gag, struggle to breathe. I then began to rock my hips. Sometimes I’d be aggressive, while others I was precise in movement feeling her mouth cover me from the base to very top. I’d pull her out by the hair, and look down on her. She’d look up, struggling to catch her breath and call me small. I again would push her in under the water and scream at her to get up and finish sucking me.

The last time I got her up, I tore her bikini top and bottom. They were floating on the water. I told her that I was going to submerge her one last time, but with me inside of her mouth; that she better brace for a turbulent ride.

That night I lost a client, along with half the pay I had yet to receive for the renovations of the flat. The owner came to view the flat to ensure renovation was progressing as expected, but instead found me with all of my intentions deep inside her mouth. He gave me my wallet and car keys; gave her her pocketbook, but kept our clothes. That was the good part of being tossed out… to see her walking in front of me nude, arousing thoughts of anal submission. We knocked door to door for an understanding neighbor who’d afford us some clothing. We left in laughter, I somewhat bothered because of the hefty monetary loss I had just suffered, but rejoicing that I had finally won a wager against her, even if I cheated.

On the ride back home she spoke about the euphoric feeling of being abused and unable to fight back. I apologized profusely. While it felt good to attempt sexual destruction on someone, it came with an ill feeling of possibly having caused pain. Still, I rode all the way home aroused. Still feeling like I wanted to disturb someone else.

I waited for her to reach the entrance of her flat and open the door; before the door closed I screamed out “Kirin Black”. She screamed it in return and closed the door.

Author: jibarican

https://crimsoncrossing.wordpress.com

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s