Good Time(49)

Maybe he’s decided to take me up on my kinky prison warden offer and he’s assembling a sexy prisoner costume for me. I wonder what that would look like? Would he put me in a black bra and panties? Stockings and a garter belt? Or would he put me in a denim shirt, naked underneath and barely covering my ass?

What if he’s really just out of toothpaste?

I’ve never been so horny in my entire life. And by never I mean that I’m tempted to stick my hand down my pants and rub one out in this parking lot. I don’t, because it’s well lit and I don’t want to get arrested for public indecency even if I am married to an excellent criminal defense attorney, but I’m tempted. I do cross my legs really tightly while I wait though.

Twelve minutes. Plus whatever minutes I forgot to count in the beginning.

It’s another three minutes before he reappears. I’ve got my head turned to the side, watching the automatic doors for him to appear, so I spot him the moment the doors swish and he exits, bag in hand.

Except what the hell is in that bag? A shirt box? No…

No way.

I watch him walk towards the car, my eyes trained on that stupid bag. He’s not holding it by the skimpy plastic handles, instead the box is sticking out of top of the bag while the entire thing is tucked under his arm. Then he’s at the car door. He opens in, bending a bit so he can meet my eyes as he shakes the box and grins before tossing it into the back of the car and sliding behind the wheel.

Monopoly.

He wants to play Monopoly.

What kind of a sick pervert wants to play a board game that takes forever when he’s got a hot blonde up for anything? Like, legiterally. Anything.

I turn my head and look at it in the backseat, needing visual confirmation one more time that I didn’t imagine this. Nope, I didn’t. The bag isn’t even lumpy, so there’s definitely not a hidden bottle of lube or a rope or even a packet of clothespins. I turn around and face forward while Vince reverses the car out of the parking space and turns us in the direction of my apartment.

He talks the entire way home about how much he’s loving our board game time, and how Monopoly was his favorite growing up, and I feel like a perverted jerk. Maybe all the sexual innuendo was in my head? I was pretty clear, wasn’t I? Still, it’s nice that he enjoys spending time with me, isn’t it? Time in which we’re talking and not having sex. Think of the big picture, Payton. He likes you, really likes you. He could be doing a lot of other things tonight, but he wants to play Monopoly with me.

That’s… nice.

I carry my cheesecake bag into the apartment. Vince carries the bag with his Monopoly game, still talking about our impending epic game night. I stick my cheesecake in the fridge and then pull out a kitchen chair and sit, resting my chin in my hand.

Then Vince pulls a flat package out of the bag, flat enough that I didn’t notice it under the board game box. He tears at the flap, the sticker ripping the cardboard sleeve. My curiosity is piqued as he tugs the item free of the packaging.

Stockings.

Okay, wow. Game night just got interesting. He holds them up so they unfurl, twin ribbons of black nylon or spandex or whatever the hell a pair of stockings you can buy at Target are made of.

“You want me to wear those while we play?” My mind races, imagining me naked save for these black thigh-highs. I like where this is going.

“No.”

Maybe I don’t like where this is going. Is now the time Vince reveals that he’s into womenswear? Like, for himself? No hate or anything but I don’t think I’m into that. Perhaps I could try though? For Vince?

“Stand up,” Vince instructs and I have no idea what’s going on, but I do. I stand, pushing my chair in once I’m up, my hands resting on the chair back as I stare at Vince. Then he laughs. “If you could see your face,” he says. I blink, still not sure what’s going on.

“Are we playing Monopoly or…” I trail off.

“Take off your shirt.”

Or not, it appears. I lift my shirt over my head, draping it over the chair back when it’s off.

“Bra.”

I remove that too, placing it on top of my shirt. Then I shiver, my nipples at attention in the cool of the apartment air-conditioning and Vince’s gaze.

“Come here.”

It’s not until I’m in front of him and he’s spun me around, pushing me chest down onto the kitchen countertop and tying my hands behind my back with the stockings, that I get it. I agree, that took me an embarrassingly long time.

When my hands are secure he kisses his way down my spine as his hands locate the side zipper on the skirt I’m wearing. A moment later it falls to the floor in a soft whoosh, then his thumbs hook into my panties and they follow suit. Then he slaps my ass with an open palm and I jump, but before I can react further he’s yanked me upright and is walking me in the direction of my room and I feel so dirty. Good dirty. Fantastically dirty. Seductively dirty.

When I’m in front of my bed he turns me to face him then pushes me back until I’m on my back. My arms are bound, trapped beneath me, and it’s not the most comfortable position in the world but it does serve to tilt my pelvis perfectly in his direction. Especially once he’s picked my dangling legs up and spread them wide, heels on the edge of the bed, thighs open.

“Don’t move.”

I won’t. It would take a lot of effort to get up with my arms tied behind me and besides, I really like where this is going.