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Whisky Sour [Closed] - Printable Version

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RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 09-03-2017

Another snap that sent a pleasant tingle across her skin, but her jump but she didn’t protest. She continued to wear that sassy smirk, like she’d won something, until he moved away from her. She exhaled sharply through her nose to express her disagreement with his decision to stop touching her, but the sound of it was her only indication of displeasure. Julianna remained where he’d left her, there was something obedient in the way she stood stood, arms at her sides and her feet together. Her only movement was to turn her head to watch him observe the liquor lined shelves.

Julianna’s smirk faded when Owen tore into a bottle she instantly recognized as vintage with a hefty price tag. She didn’t say anything about, didn’t have to, she’d just put it on the bill for the party. He wasn’t wrong in thinking he could have whatever he wanted from her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t always pay for it.

Her gaze dropped to the floor, tracking the path her clothing made as he pushed it out of the way. They’d been in the stockroom for sometime now, but if she’d had any qualms about being discovered half-dressed in the storage she didn’t voice them. Her eyes darted back up to his face; lips parted slightly as he traced them and closed around his finger. The pad of his finger was soft against her tongue, with a sharp whisky bite.

Julianna nodded her head to the first question, to avoid having to speak over the obstruction. When he asked his second question, she didn’t immediately answer. She cocked her head, still holding his finger in her mouth, as if she were thinking about it. Eventually, her head made gentle movements side to side. Denying having stolen the accessory. “I borrowed it,” she corrected, the words obviously muddled but coherent.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 09-30-2017

She was going to be incorrigible it seemed. It was infuriating because it was subtle in a way. She had stood so neatly and patiently for him. Her mouth closed warm and wet around his finger and she didn’t push it out of the way to speak. And yet, she refused to acquiesce completely.

Perhaps he would have minded more if he didn’t enjoy correcting.

Owen pulled his finger from her mouth and trailed it down her chin drawing a straight line down to her throat. He seemed to be appreciating the way she looked. His earlier fantasy of her topless with her suspenders fulfilled. But then he moved his finger under each of her suspender strap and pulled it down off her shoulders. He untied the tie from her belt loops and gruffly pulled it through to reclaim it.

He moved away from her, his eyes scanning the room for something. He found a bar stool pushed into the corner and dragged it out. The legs scraped along the floor loudly. Owen tested it with his hand and found that it wobbled some. Clearly it had been put away for some kind of repair or retired completely. He smirked at his find and then pointed to it.

“Come bend over this stool. And don’t let go until I say so.”

He took another swig from the bottle he’d chosen and then set it on the floor nearby and rolled up his sleeves further. Owen had draped the tie over his shoulder and pulled it off. He folded it carefully over twice and held it in his hand at his side while he waited for her to comply with his instructions.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 10-01-2017

Julianna’s only movement was the slight lift of her chin when he slipped his finger from her mouth. She was able to hold his gaze as she gave him better access to the line of her throat. She didn’t mind being the subject of his attention. She felt no shame or embarrassment standing topless before him.

She grounded herself when he tugged, careful not to move too much from the obedient position she had chosen. When he relieved her of the belt she pouted, not wanting to have her stolen trophy taken away from her. The material was worse for wearing have been cinched around her waist. It was wrinkled and stretched and probably wouldn’t make do as a proper tie in the future. She wondered if was expensive; if he would be angry later that she had utterly ruined it.

Cocking her head she watched as he rearranged the stool. A tingle of excited anticipation coursed up her spine. She had an idea of what might come next. If their hook-up and the play of this current interaction were any indication. Julianna didn’t need to be told twice, she crossed the room to where he had set up the seat. Perhaps, she should have looked more remorseful for what she had done. This was meant to be a punishment of sorts. For stealing, for being defiant, but it was difficult for her to look anything other than pleased.

Julianna felt like he was testing her, and she was determined to pass. To prove herself to him, as it were. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the wooden stool. Naturally, it put an attractive curve to her spine; her ass in dark jeans on display. She rested heavier on one arm to keep the uneven legs from shifting. She resisted the urge to look at him over her shoulder; she wanted to see him towering over her before began whatever he was going to do.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 10-17-2017

Julianna looked entirely too pleased with herself even as she obeyed his instructions. That was the theme of the evening it seemed. It wasn’t her eagerness or obedience that bothered him. It was the cocky attitude she seemed to affect with him. The only time that brash air had wavered was when he deprived her of her stolen trophy.

He stood silently behind her while she arranged herself and took time to admire the curve of her ass that she presented to him. The store room wasn’t exactly perfectly well lit and the dim lighting created a dramatic shadowy ravine of her spine from the top of her pants all the way between her shoulder blades. Finally, he moved next to her, close enough that the front of his thighs brushed her hip. He ran his hand slowly over her lower back and down over her ass.

He pulled his hand back and landed an open-fingered and experimental spank against the cheek closest to him. It was hard enough to cause an audible smack that was dampened by the thick jean fabric that separated his hand from her skin. “Do you know the difference between stealing and borrowing, Julianna?” He asked waiting for her attempt to answer before he repeated the action so as to interrupt her.

"Do you?" He asked to confirm as his hand met that spot again a little harder each time. Instead of pulling away after landing that last blow, he grabbed a handful of her. Owen had bored of the fabric that impeded him and paused to unbutton her jeans to tug them and her panties forcefully down her legs until they pooled around her ankles.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 11-02-2017

Neither of them spoke, again, so the room was mostly silent. The noise from the party on the other side of one wall could be heard, distant and muffled. An interesting backdrop to what they were doing in the storeroom. Conversation and laughter carried on and the two of them were hardly missed.

When Owen moved closer, a rush of excited anticipation swelled in Julianna. His hand plotting a course down her back tightened her shoulder blades as she shivered, but she didn’t fidget. She had expected the spank, but the action still drew a breathy ‘oh’ of surprise from her. It had been hard enough to be loud, but not enough to actually hurt. Experimental, as it were. Still testing his limits. There was a pause, before she attempted to speak. “Yes, I-”

The second contact worked as planned, her answer dissolving into another staccato sound from her. Shock and pleasure mingling in a single vowel. She gave up on words as he spanked her again. Her head bobbed in an affirmative; even though she knew it would be a good enough answer. His hand made contact again and again until he’d wiped that smirk off of her face. She was squirming against the stool and suppressing moans behind a bitten lip. “Yes, sir,” she finally managed with a gasp. He grabbed her and she dropped her forehead down upon her forearms. It wasn’t that it hurt. Well...it did, but that was the point of it. A warmth spread over tender skin, from the point of stinging contact.

Julianna continued to lean against the stool. Her only attempt to help him with her jeans was to spread her legs to allow the fabric to be pulled down more smoothly. She was completely exposed to him now. Julianna was familiar with this position of presentation, and still she felt no shame. “You got it back,” she pointed out, even though she was already getting exactly what she wanted. “That’s borrowing. Isn’t it?”

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 11-14-2017

“No. It’s not.” His voice was cool but self-assured in the way he corrected her. “When we borrow something, we ask for permission.” He was now speaking in a way that was overly patronizing as if to a child or one who couldn’t possibly understand. Owen moved around to stand in front of her, he gathered her hair in his hand and pulled her head back forcing her to look up the length of his body that he lorded over her.

“We say ‘please’ when we ask for permission.”

This wasn’t information so much as it was a demand. His face was a blank mask. “Repetition is key to learning new things.” He explained as he let go of her hair with a jerk.

Owen returned to his post behind her. “Go on then.” He said impatiently waiting for her to say the word. He made her say it over and over as his hand struck her bare ass rhythmically in staccato strikes in time with her words. They continued that way with the backdrop of laughing and partying going on behind the door until his own hand stung and fatigued and her skin had turned red and hot.

His initial point had made it seemed. But he had another lesson. Owen’s hand suddenly stopped and he left Julianna perched on the stool while he bent to retrieve the tie in question. His erection had reached a needy agony at this point likely matching her own state of arousal.

“When we borrow things,” he said as he moved in front of her again, “we return them in good condition.” He held up the tie showing her what she had done to it. It was wrinkled now from the way she had tied it around her waist . Owen began rolling it up slowly from the thin end to the thick. “This is not the way you found it.”

“But since you asked me so nicely for it just now, I’ll let you have it now and you can give it back to me later.” The tie was now a neat coil in his hand. “Open your mouth.” Without waiting much for compliance or giving explanation, he shoved the coiled tie as far into her mouth as he could.

He stood over her for a few moments taking in the image of the bare woman bent over the stool mouth wide and full of his tie that matched her eyes and spilled out from between her lips. “You’ll get much better use of it this way. Wouldn’t want the party people to hear what you’re letting me do to you. What would they think of you?” He tsked to shame her.

“You’ll get much better use of it this way.” He reminded her from behind her again. If she listened closely she would hear the sound of his pants being loosened which would be the only warning she got before he pushed inside of her. His hands pressed bruising grips to her hips. There was a cruelty in the way he thrust into her. Ramming her as if to hollow her out. He wanted her to feel empty and meaningless when he wasn’t inside her and he fucked her as if that were his point.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 11-16-2017

With her head still lowered to her arms, Julianna saw Owen’s shining dress shoes come into the frame of her vision when he moved to stand in front of her. A rough hand in her hair, lifted her face upwards. She knew the intent was for her to roll her eyes upwards to look at his face. To hold his steely gaze as he lectured her. However, while her sights slid over the length of his body that loomed over her, she was very notably distracted by the obvious outline of his erection against his slacks.

He was standing so close. She pulled against the hand in her hair so she could nuzzle the side of her face against that bulging disruption in the clean line of his pants. She felt the length of him hard against her cheek, before she turned her face and skirted her lips over him. She looked up at him as she did so; a forcibly innocent and wide-eyed expression mimicking a pet that was looking for more attention.

He released her roughly, which prompted another smirk. “Please,” she said quickly, he didn’t need to tell her twice. The word fell from her lips, needy and wanting and she was rewarded with another sharp smack. She repeated the word again and again, until it sounded like she was begging for something new entirely. A release for the tension he had built up inside her. He stopped when she was whimpering more than she was speaking. She shifted on her feet, ass stinging, but didn’t lift from the stool. She looked up at him, at his face properly, this time.

Owen demanded she open her mouth. Julianna opened her mouth. Even though she knew what was coming. His words and his actions had been advertisement enough that he was going to gag her with the tie she had stolen, but still she obeyed. Because this was exactly what she wanted. What he wanted. They both knew it.

Julianna hadn’t expected him to fuck her. He was correct, the tie was very useful. She cried out in surprise as his filled her and the sound was muffled by silken fabric. It lingered in the back of her mind that she was making a mistake. She gripped the stool harder to steady herself as he rammed against her. He’d done this before, played with her and fucked her and then not called her. She adjusted her hips, lifting on her toes slightly until he hit that perfect spot. What if he just dropped her again. She moaned against the fabric in her mouth.

Owen’s hands on her hips brought her racing thoughts to a full stop. It wouldn’t take long for little finger shaped bruises to form there when he was done with her. She had known it would not take her long to finish. The punishment from him would have been enough to satisfy her, fucking her was just like icing on the cake. Julianna lowered her head and turned to look at him over her shoulder, and the sight of him towering over her was enough to topple her over the edge. He wasn’t wrong, the tie was a better gag than a belt and it muffled the delighted moans of the orgasm that rippled through her.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 11-16-2017

Owen was ignorant to the worries that occupied her mind. Whether he would ghost her again. Whether she was setting herself up for failure with him for a second time. He couldn’t know what she was thinking.

The sound of her voice struggling to cry out over the fabric that dampened the sound, the tightening of her body around him, the curl of her spine all pushed Owen closer to finishing. He met her gaze with something like steely indifference. Jaw set and firm, teeth clenched in concentration with the task at hand. He pulled out just before he was about to cum to finish himself with his hand. He didn’t break eye contact with her as he spilled hot white over the still flushed slopes of her ass.

When he was done, Owen tucked himself away again and combed at his hair to be sure it was still in place. Not a strand had come loose.

He seemed suddenly tuned into the sounds of the world around him. Everything else had fallen away while he was dialed in to every pitch and moan of Julianna’s voice and that satisfying, persistent smack of their skin when he thrust. He was now again aware of the birthday party he was neglecting.

Owen cleared his voice, “You may let go now,” he said as he bent to tug Julianna’s pants back up her legs and over her hips without offering her a chance to clean herself up. She would just have to walk around for the rest of the evening bearing the secret sticky wetness of his climax on tender skin.

He stared at his own reflection in emerald eyes as his fingers worked to fasten her button and zipper. Owen left her standing there with the tie still in her mouth as he retrieved her bra and shirt. He helped her into each item, dressing her like a doll, finishing up with gentle snaps of the suspenders as he set them back in place on her shoulders.

“There. Back the way I found it.” He said of her appearance. His hands smoothed over her shoulders and down her arms as if to set everything right before he retrieved the tie from her mouth. It was worse for wear having been further wrinkled and now saturated in places with spit.

He rolled his sleeves down leaving Julianna to collect the rest of herself as he moved shrugged into his suit jacket and walked for the door. Owen tucked the ruined tie away into his suit jacket to deprive her of keeping the trophy she seemed to treasure.

“Bring me that drink I ordered earlier that you haven’t bothered pouring yet.”

When Owen opened the storage room door the sounds of the party surged like a wave that bore him back out to sea. His own voice soon became a part of the clamor that went up just for him.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 01-05-2018

Julianna was left mostly stunned in the wake of the quick resolution of that slowing building game they had played. The noises from the bar and the party that she had been able to ignore were suddenly very loud around her. His instructions cut through the din. She hadn’t realized how tightly she had been clinging to the stool and her fingers ached as she peeled them away from the finished wood. She soon realized that many parts of her ached. Her hands, her jaw, her hips, her ass. She didn’t mind the feeling.

She stood passively as he dressed her, even though she was thankful for the assistance. Less thankful for the mess he was leaving her with. Julianna moved just enough to make dressing her easier. She pushed lifted her arms and threaded them through straps and pushed them into sleeves. She adjusted her collar as he pulled the suspenders back over her shoulders.

She did not at all feel the same way as he had found her. Staring up at him as he retrieved his tie, her lips pressed together. He was going to take it. Her ill gotten gains of their first night together. Something about the knowledge made her mad. It wasn’t hers, but it should have been. Julianna didn’t know what to say, or if she should have said anything. She wanted to reconfirm their date, wanted some sort of verbal confirmation that this time wasn’t the same as the last. Instead, she watched him put himself back together and disappear back into the main area of the bar.

Julianna returned to her post, bringing the case of ginger beer with her. She ignored Sai’s disappointed stare that he was boring into the back of her head as she made the highball he had asked for. She delivered it personally, and it wasn’t so much that he ignored her. It was that he did acknowledge her, but the exchange was incredibly blase and was quickly back to entertaining his guests. Was this part of it? She wondered. Just another scene in their game?

He left without saying goodbye. Why would he? He was a busy man after all. He had made very sure to tell her that day in his office.

When the party was over and the guests were gone, Julianna sent Sairus home. She knew she would rather clean up by herself than suffer through his irritated silence, or worse: pesky questions. It was very late when she got him. Or perhaps, very early. She hadn’t paid attention to what ridiculous hour of the morning it was. She showered and climbed into bed, and vowed that she was going to do absolutely nothing the next day.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 01-07-2018

The rest of the evening of his birthday went by in a drunken blur.

When Owen woke in the morning, alone, in bed he took stock of himself. First there was the raging hangover, that was expected. And then there was a feeling of emptiness. Sure, he’d had a lot of fun at his birthday party but the whole thing felt excessive.

He turned over groaning out loud to nobody about the pounding in his head. That tie. The one he had taken back from Julianna was bunched up on his dresser next to his keys and wallet. Things he had dumped out of his pockets before falling into bed.

Owen pushed himself up and padded over to the dresser. He fingered the tie as he replayed the scene in his mind. It closed with that expectant look she had given him when she delivered his drink. The expression on his face swam into his memory through the intoxication. Maybe it was more needy. He chewed at his cheek as he worried over her expression. Had it been too much?

It was always too much.

His phone was laying face down on the dresser and when he picked it up it flashed a dead battery sign at him. He was anxious to find out if Julianna had tried to contact him and so Owen plugged it in and stood nearby until the device had enough juice to power up. He had a bunch of messages but none of them were from her. He still had her number from their earlier hook-up and so he opened a message to her.

>Good morning.

He checked the time.

>Afternoon. I suppose.
>What are you doing?

While he waited for her response, Owen made himself a cup of coffee and took it and the phone into his home sauna to sweat out what he had put into his body the evening before.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 01-07-2018

Julianna cursed her internal clock as she lay awake in bed. She had been up at the same time as always, despite having no errands and no shift at the bar. Despite being unable to sleep, she refused to get out of bed. Even though a chai tea and a pastrami sandwich were starting to sound really, really good the more she thought about them.

Hunger was putting a damper on her promise to do absolutely nothing that day. As was the chiming coming from her phone on the nightstand. Julianna sighed heavily. And then she groaned loudly, kicking off the blankets like a child. She rolled over and snatched her phone off the table. “The bar better be on fire, Sairus,” she mumbled to herself, assuming it was just her employee texting to bother her about something mundane. She was surprised to see Owen’s number accompanied with a few messages. For whatever reason, she had never actually saved it with contact information, but she had dialed it enough to recognize it.

She read the messages once. Then twice. And then a third time. They seemed so...normal. So...casual. Which was fine! Good even, since this was literally what she had wanted from him in the beginning. Julianna deliberated on what to say back. Ghosting him wasn’t an option since she had already threw a fit about him doing it to her. She could be pouting and send back a petulant one word answer. She dropped the phone against her chest and stared up at the ceiling. Her stomach rumbled in demand of the pastrami sandwich she had been trying to forget about.

She sent back.

>Hey.
>Thinking about getting some lunch.
>You?

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 01-10-2018

Owen felt stupid sitting there sweating and waiting to hear back from Julianna. There seemed to be a never ending string of email notifications that he would always get. Each notification had him checking his phone and ended with disappointment.

Finally, she sent something back.

>So where am I buying you lunch?

He texted back without answering her question as to what he was doing. He cut straight to the chase. He wanted to see her and had no interest in playing the kind of hide and seek games of texting.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 01-14-2018

Julianna laughed at loud at his response. A breathy and girlish giggle. The sound of having been caught off guard by something too obviously charming. She sat up in bed as she began typing back.

>I didn’t know you were buying me lunch.

She was being playfully difficult. Julianna wanted Owen to work for her attention now that she had his. It was fair to her, after the way he had tried to blow her off.

>Not sure if I feel like getting dressed up for billionaire sushi on Elon Musk’s yacht.

She accented this message with an exasperated looking yellow faced emoji before sending it off and dropping her phone onto the bed. Throwing back the coverlet she hopped out of bed and trotted off to the bathroom while she awaited another response.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 01-31-2018

As soon as Owen received a text back that showed Julianna was amenable to lunch plans with him - even if she would be snarky about it - he jumped out of the sauna and headed for the shower. Out of the top of his eyes he could see himself in his bathroom mirror smiling stupidly at his glowing phone. He tried to discipline the smile from his face.

> Good. Elon is a bore anyways.

He didn’t know whether she would take that comment as bragging. Owen knew his ridiculous wealth affected her. She, at the very least, had demonstrated open awe at the display of it in his car and penthouse. He wasn’t sure how far he could demonstrate his wealth and connections before it would turn her off.

> What’s a good lunch for a nice farm girl in the city?

He typed out a couple more messages to her as he waited for the shower to warm up.

>Oh, btw, I forbid you to ever get dressed up to eat sushi on Elon's yacht.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 02-02-2018

Her phone dinged while she brushed her teeth. With a mouthful of toothpaste and a toothbrush in one hand, she scurried back into her room and picked up the phone with the other. Julianna read the messages as she brushed. She was slow in her own response, being unaware of if he actually knew Elon Musk or was just reacting to her joke.

Another reminder of his wealth and status and how they were worlds apart.

Julianna didn’t reply until she had finished her morning routine and dressed herself in shorts and a t-shirt, overlaid with a flannel shirt that she left open because she was seriously about not doing anything too fancy for a lunch, and because she didn’t have anything particularly stunning to wear besides.

>I promise not to have lunch with other billionaires.
>*Sir*

There was a pause in messages as she took a minute to put her hair up into a high ponytail.

>I want a pastrami sandwich.