Delora struggled awake. Her head hurt and she felt groggy. Her mouth was dry and there was an uncomfortable pressure in her bladder. Her nose itched and she moved her hand to scratch it, but her hand wouldn't move. Delora's eyes shot open, blinking rapidly against the brightness of the light. Her arms were stretched above her head, She craned her neck to look at them and saw ropes circling her wrists, binding her to the head rail.
I'm tied up? She looked down at her feet and found them bound as well, tied to the foot rail. This isn't my bed. Where ...? She cast her eyes around. The ceiling was standard, institutional white tiles holding several fluorescent light fixtures. The walls were white cinder block. In the middle of the wall on her right was a solid-looking wooden door, with a keypad.
"Help! Help"" she yelled. Her throat was sore, and her voice didn't sound like her own. "Can anyone hear me?" She waited, listening, but heard nothing.
A movement at her left side startled her. She turned her head. A man. Naked! Panicked she looked down at herself again and sighed in relief to discover she was still clothed—a plain white t-shirt and tight blue jeans. These aren't what I was wearing? Are they?
She struggled to find memories. The last thing she clearly remembered was Shannon and Jo stopping by her desk, asking her if she'd heard the latest gossip. She'd got back to the brief she'd been working on. After that things got vague—someone standing her up, a car ride. Then nothing until she woke up here.
She looked back at the man. He was pale and lean, lying on his back, his feet bound together with ropes; tall, his feet stretching far past hers on the bed. He wasn't a handsome man, neatly trimmed red hair, clean-shaven, his face plain and unremarkable. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place where she might have seen him. She could see the bones of his ribs, chest and shoulders. His arms were partially hidden under his back. Probably tied, too.
Her eyes drifted lower. His belly was flat, leading into bony hips. A thin patch of coppery hair decorated the base of his belly. Below, his penis was exposed, soft and pink. Delora stared. She knew what naked men looked like, of course, but she'd never been this close to one in the flesh.
She tore her gaze away and jostled the bare mattress they were lying on. "Hey!" she called out. "Are you okay?"
Jonathan struggled, vestiges of a very weird dream evaporating from his memory. Something about purple cannibals and being roasted on a spit. Bright light hurt his eyes; he squeezed them shut. He tried to move his hands to his face and couldn't. They were bound behind his back.
"Are you okay?" came a plaintive female voice.
Jonathan tilted his head towards the source of the voice. Through his squinting eyes he could make out a female figure stretched out beside him. Where are my glasses?
"Who are you?" he asked, his throat dry and sore, his voice hoarse.
"I'm Delora. Why are we tied up like this?"
"Tied up? I don't know." Jonathan tried to shake away the cobwebs in his mind. The last thing he remembered was Terry and Andy stopping by his desk with a question about programming a spreadsheet. It had been a simple problem and it had only taken a minute or so. He'd answered a couple of emails, and then ...
And then ...? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember going home, having dinner, going to bed. Just the sensation of waking up.
"I - I don't know," he admitted again. He tried yelling. "Hey! Can anyone hear me?"
"I already tried that," the female voice said.
Delora. "Delora? Do I know you?"
"You look a little familiar, but I don't think so."
"I'm Jonathan," he introduced himself. "I work at McCutcheon and Sons."
"The accountants? Across the hall."
"Yes. Oh, you're from the lawyers' office?"
"Uh-huh. I'm a paralegal there."
"I guess we might have seen each other in the hall. Do you have any idea where we are? Or how we got here?"
"No. Last thing I remember clearly is Shannon and Jo stopping at my desk to ask if I'd heard the latest gossip. Which is strange because they know I don't do that. I think they might have put something in my tea."
A sinking feeling twisted Jonathan's gut. "They drugged you?" Did Terry ...? Of course he did! "That might explain how I feel."
"Shannon and Jo? They talked to you?"
"No. Two jokers at my office—the boss's son and one of his cronies." Jonathan struggled against his bonds. And suddenly realized he was naked. He groaned in frustration.
"What's the matter?"
"I'm naked."
"Yes, I can see. Do you know why?"
"I have no idea." A sudden thought. "Oh no!"
"What?"
"How long have we been ... out?"
"Oh." Delora thought for a moment. "I'm not sure. Hours, I think. Maybe longer. I have to ... empty my bladder." She felt herself blushing—she wasn't used to having conversations with men about body functions.
"Yeah, me too." Jonathan tried to gather his thoughts. "I think this might be someone's idea of an April Fools joke."
"What? No! Really?"
"Yeah. This is definitely something Terry would dream up."
"Terry?"
"Boss's son. A real jerk. He likes tormenting me. If he and your ... Shannon? ... got together, do you think she'd go along with something like this?"
Delora snorted in derision. "Shannon? Definitely." She looked at Jonathan hopefully, trying to ignore his nudity. "Is there any way you can untie yourself?"
Jonathan fidgeted, testing his bonds. "You know—I just might be able to. I used to be pretty good at getting out of ropes when I was a kid." He took a deep breath and blew out. "First, I have to relax."
"Relax? Why?"
"When you tense, your muscles expand. That makes the ropes tighter. By relaxing, you can gain a little bit of space. Hopefully enough space to let me work something loose."
Jonathan rolled onto his stomach, drew his knees under him and sat up. A few more deep breaths and he managed to get his bound wrists low enough that he could slip them under his bottom, then sit and free them from under his legs.
He sighed in relief. "Good thing I'm fairly flexible," he commented to Delora. "I should be able to work the knot on my wrists using my teeth."
Sure enough, it only took him a few minutes to untie the simple knot. With his hands free it was just another minute to untie his ankles. "I think they meant for me to get these off," he commented. "Okay, now I can untie you."
As he moved towards her bound wrists, he saw Delora's eyes widen, staring at his groin. He checked the sudden impulse to cover himself with his hands. "I'm sorry about this," he apologized, gesturing to his nude body.
Having a young woman stare at his nude body was a novel experience for Jonathan. He had no illusions about his looks—he was pale and lanky, with barely enough muscle and fat to to pad the bones underneath. Women didn't give him a second glance. He'd been out on a few dates, but he found it difficult talking to women. Repeat dates just didn't happen.
Delora was a small girl with a strongly-featured face—not pretty, but certainly striking. Her dark brown hair was tied into two long braids that hung past her shoulders. She wore tight blue jeans that showed off the shapely legs underneath, and a plain white t-shirt that swelled slightly over her small, pert breasts. Her feet were bare. The skin on her feet and arms was dark tan. She looked vaguely Middle Eastern, or perhaps Spanish.
"Maybe you could loan me your t-shirt?"
"No!" she blurted, immediately regretting her outburst. "Sorry, that was rude. These aren't my clothes—not what I usually wear. And ..." She felt herself blushing. Stop it1 You're not a school girl! "I don't have anything on underneath." She quickly explained herself in case he got the wrong idea. "I mean—I was wearing a bra. At the office. I normally do, even though I don't really need to." She was babbling, nervous. Stop it! "They must have taken it off when they dressed me in these." They? Shannon and that co-worker of his? Did she let him see me naked? "Besides, it's probably too small for you," she finished.
Jonathan looked around. "I don't see anything here I can cover myself with."
Delora felt a twinge of sympathy for him. She couldn't imagine how mortified she'd feel if their positions were reversed. But giving up her clothes wasn't an option. "I'm sorry. I can't. You'll just have to stay naked." She squirmed restlessly. "Please untie me. I really need to use a bathroom."
Being helplessly bound, alone with a naked man, was a scenario from one of Delora's favorite masturbation fantasies. And she couldn't be sure if the squishy feeling in her lower parts was just from needing to pee. Jonathan was right beside her, naked. In her fantasy she would be naked, too, and he would start to touch her—first her arms and legs, then her breasts, and finally, between her legs.
Jonathan's long, delicate fingers worked at the ropes on her wrists, occasionally brushing her skin, sparking a quiver deep inside her. Her arms came free and she sat up, rubbing her wrists to restore the circulation. Another few minutes and Jonathan had freed her legs. She tried to stand and almost fell. She sat heavily on the edge of the bed.
Jonathan stood beside her to stretch and look around. They seemed to be in a small office, with their queen-sized bed taking up most of the space. An open doorway in the corner to the left drew his attention. He could see part of a white porcelain sink. He nudged Delora and pointed it out to her. "That might be a bathroom."
Delora looked. "No door?"
"Good evening Delora," crooned a sultry female voice.
Delora squealed in shock. Her head swiveled to find the source and quickly spotted the small speaker on the wall opposite the foot of the bed. "That sounds like Shannon!" Delora whispered to Jonathan.
"Hello, Jonathan," echoed a male voice.
"Terry!" growled Jonathan, glaring at the speaker. "I knew it!"
"Congratulations on getting out of the ropes," Terry's voice was annoyingly sarcastic. "But that was the easy part."
"Are you watching us?" Delora demanded.
"Of course, sweetie." Shannon's voice was saccharine. "I must say, you handled the sight of your first naked man much better than I thought you would."
"There's five cameras covering the room," chuckled Terry. "We can see everything you do. There's nowhere you can hide—not even the bathroom. You'll notice there's no door."
"Delora, I'll bet you have to pee," taunted Shannon's voice. "Real bad, I'm sure. The boys here will certainly enjoy watching you. I'll bet Jonathan would, too, if you asked him. You probably think it's kinky, letting a man see you on the toilet, but you know, it's actually kind of sexy."
"Welcome to our version of a locked room escape," Terry continued. "People pay a lot of money to participate in one of these. We're giving you this one for free."
"And in a few hours it'll be April first" giggled Shannon. "Happy April Fools,"
"I told you so," muttered Jonathan.
"Don't bother trying to break down the door or screaming for help," Terry added. "That door is stronger than it looks, and there's no one around to hear you."
Shannon's voice chimed in. "You've probably noticed the digital lock on the door. Don't try breaking it or trying to open it to short-circuit it. The only way out is to enter the combination."
"To get out you have to enter seven numbers in the proper sequence."
"The numbers are on Delora's skin, where only Jonathan can see them."
"And, of course, in order for him to see them, Delora will have to take off her clothes."
"What!?" Delora shrieked in horror. "No way am I getting naked!"
There was the sound of laughter, then Shannon's voice again. "Your choice, Delora. But we're not going to help you get out until after we hear Jonathan read out all seven numbers."
Terry's voice took over. "Here's how it's going to work. Once Jonathan reads the numbers we'll give you a challenge. If you complete the challenge to our satisfaction we'll tell you which number is first in the sequence. Then you'll get another challenge and so on, until you finally open the door. We've left all your clothes and belongings in the room on the other side of the door. You'll recognize where you are once you get out."
"Oh, and Delora," Shannon's voice purred wickedly. "The challenges we've made up for you, they're very intimate. We're pretty sure that, even though you're both in your mid-twenties, you're both still virgins. This locked room scenario just might help you fix that."
Delora gasped in shock. "You're not serious! You expect us to have sex!?"
Shannon giggled. "Why not? There's nothing stopping you. You've even got a comfy queen-sized bed. Have fun, you two."
"Omigod!" Delora whimpered.
"Yeah," echoed Jonathan. In spite of himself, his penis jumped and swelled.
Delora noticed. Her face reddened. "Don't do that!"
"It's not exactly something I can control."
Delora sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just—disturbing." She looked into his eyes helplessly. "If you're an accountant, you should be good with numbers. If you get the numbers can you figure out the combination?"
"Seven numbers means seven factorial combinations—5040. If we get the first number, it comes down to 720. A second number gives us 120; and the third—24."
Delora's eyes filled with tears. "Three challenges before we have any chance of figuring out the combination. And you heard them. Those challenges are going to be pretty bad."
Jonathan nodded. "I heard."
Delora wiped her eyes, sighing in frustration. I hate this! I have to show my naked body to Jonathan so he can find the numbers. Never mind Shannon and Terry watching on camera, and whoever else they've got there. And they had to undress me when they wrote the numbers on my skin and changed my clothes. They won't even let me use the bathroom in privacy.
She mentally shook herself. Delora, stop it!. You can't do anything about it, so stop obsessing! You'll just have to go with it. "I'm going to use the bathroom," she declared.
Delora strode to the bathroom and stopped at the open doorway, turning to scan the room for the cameras they had said were there. They were easy to find—one one the back wall pointed at her, two on the wall behind the bed, one on the wall opposite, and one above the locked door.
She pointed out the camera directed at the bathroom, "Jonathan, I need you to stand in the doorway and block the camera wile I get undressed and use the toilet." She hesitated. "I suppose you might as well watch."
Jonathan stared. "Are you sure?"
Delora shrugged and unzipped her jeans. "You're going to see me anyway."
Jonathan moved to the open doorway. The bathroom was a tiny alcove with a toilet on the right wall and a sink opposite. Delora stepped to the toilet, pushed down her jeans, and sat.
As her stream splashed noisily into the toilet bowl she glanced at Jonathan; his eyes were studiously avoiding her. "Oh, for goodness' sake, Jonathan! Look at me!" His startled eyes tracked to her; she lifted the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it off over her head. "I know you're trying to be considerate, but they've left us no options, least of all modesty."
With her permission, his curiosity won out over his embarrassment. Jonathan's eyes scanned her body as she blotted herself dry and flushed the toilet, then stepped to the sink to wash her hands. What he noticed first was her beautiful tan skin, slightly paler around her hips and breasts, but rich and smooth. Her breasts were small but perfectly shaped, with flat, dark brown nipples and areolas. Her legs were strong and shapely. Her waist was trim, flaring out onto wide hips and firm round buttocks. A neat, dark triangle of dense pubic hair decorated her pubic mound.
As she was drying her hands on the small towel beside the sink, a small box on a shelf caught Delora's eye. Condoms!? Oh, no! Her eyes went involuntarily to Jonathan's erect penis. "Do you think they're really going to make us ...?"
Jonathan followed her gaze to his tell-tale member. "Have sex?" he finished. "It's something Terry might come up with." He looked into Delora's eyes, blushing slightly. "Shannon's right about me at least. I am a virgin. But I don't want to lose my virginity just for the sake of it, It has to mean something."
Delora nodded emphatically. "Me, too. On both counts."
Jonathan thought out loud. "The challenges are all going to be intimate and embarrassing, but I'm hoping they'll hold off on actual penetrative sex until late in the game, by which time we might be able to puzzle out the combination."
"Do you really think they will? Penetrative sex?"
Jonathan shook his head. "I don't know. But if it does come to that, at least it will be with an attractive woman."
"You think I'm attractive?" Delora blurted.
Jonathan didn't hesitate. "Yes, I do. I think women from the Middle East and around the Mediterranean are the most beautiful in the world."
Delora stared at him in wonder. No one had ever associated those words with her before. Attractive. Beautiful. "Don't you usually wear glasses?" The words escaped her mouth before she could stop them.
"Um, yes. Why do you ask?"
"I don't think you're seeing me clearly."
Jonathan laughed. "No, I see you clearly enough."
Delora smiled. "Well, thank you. And if it does come to that, I'm glad it's with such a considerate gentleman."
She sidled around him to give him room at the toilet. "I'm not tall enough to block the camera standing in the doorway," she said. "But if I stand right beside you, they won't be able to see."
Jonathan frowned in confusion. "What's got into you?" he asked. "A few minutes ago you were barely able to look at me."
Delora laughed wryly. "It's simple. I just decided that since they're calling all the shots, I'm free of any responsibility for what happens. No guilt, no shame."
Jonathan considered her for a long moment. "Oh! That's amazing! That completely frees us."
Delora shrugged. "We'll see."
They had to wait a few minutes for his erection to subside, After he was done Delora turned her back. "Can you see the numbers?" she asked
On her shoulder blades were written two numbers, one on each—"3" and "7".
There were two more numbers on her buttock cheeks—"4" and "1", but a careful scan of her back showed nothing else.
"That's all I can see," he told her. "The remaining three numbers must be somewhere else."
"Where?" she asked. "You've seen all of me."
"Not quite," Jonathan remarked uncertainly. "They said they'd be in places only I could see." He took a breath. "I think you're going to have to let me look between your legs."
Delora squealed. "Between my legs? Omigod! Could they have picked a more intimate, embarrassing spot?" She sighed heavily. "I can just imagine Shannon's glee if she did that. I guess you'd better have a look." She lowered the lid of the toilet and bent over splaying her legs to give him room to look.
Acutely conscious of how intimate this was, Jonathan knelt between Delora's legs and peered in. The little orifice between her cheeks was puckered and dark pink. Below, full, fleshy lips, a little darker than the rest of her skin, were separated by a deep red, delicately frilled tongue. Jonathan could make out ink marks just where each outer lip joined with her thigh. "I apologize for this," he said, and carefully eased each one apart so he could see clearly.
"Two more. A zero and a five." His face red with embarrassment, he backed away. "You can stand up now."
Delora straightened and turned around, her face as red as his. "That's only six numbers."
Jonathan studied her, thoughtfully. "Can I look under your breasts?" he asked
Delora sighed in resignation, but nodded. "I suppose you'd better."
She raised her chin and studied the ceiling as Jonathan gently lifted each breast and peered underneath.
There was a tiny number inscribed right into the crease below her right breast. "Nine." he read out. He looked into her eyes. "That's seven numbers. Are you ready for the first challenge?"
"Probably not," Delora sighed. "But let's go out and get it over with."
They walked out and stood beside the bed. "Three, seven, four, one, zero, five, and nine," Jonathan called out.
"Very cute, you two," came Shannon's voice. "Blocking our view like that. Never mind. Here's your first challenge. Delora, it's for you. While Jonathan tells you his favorite sex fantasy, you're going to put your hands on his cock and jerk him off. You have to make him spurt to complete the challenge."
"Omigod!" whispered Delora. She stared at Jonathan's blushing face, knowing hers was just as red, then down at his semi-swollen penis.
"I'm sorry, Delora," Jonathan apologized. "But I don't see any way around this."
"I know." Delora climbed onto the bed, knelt, and patted the mattress in front of her. "Come on, we have to do this."
Jonathan lay down on the left side of the bed in front of her knees. Delora shifted to position herself beside his hip, and touched her right hand to his penis. It responded immediately, growing and stiffening.
Jonathan cleared his throat. "My sexual fantasies stem mostly from my teenage years," he started. "So I'm going to tell you that story."
"I guess I was about sixteen. I had a reputation at school for being pretty smart. And nerdy. A girl in my class—she was a couple of years older than the rest of us—asked me to help her with her homework. She wasn't a popular girl, her looks weren't great, and she was kind of ditzy. Plus she was big. Anyway I agreed, and started going over to her house in the evenings to help her study. Her grades improved a little, and she offered to teach me to dance in exchange.
"Jen was a big girl, six feet tall with shoulders like a football player. I was a skinny little runt. But we went to the spring school dance together, and we enjoyed ourselves in spite of the whispered jokes all around us. Afterwards in her car she kissed me. The second week of summer holidays she invited me over to her house for the afternoon.
"When I got there we were alone; her mother was at work. She had an unusual request for me—would I be her 'pretend boyfriend'? 'Pretend' I asked. 'I'm kind of sweet on you,' she told me, 'but I know you don't feel the same way about me. You don't have a real girlfriend and your chances of getting one are pretty small. Would you pretend that we're girlfriend and boyfriend? Go out once in a while, hang out together, school dances—that sort of thing. And ..." here she took a deep breath, 'I'll teach you how to kiss and make out the way a girl likes.'
"'We're going to get a lot of teasing,' I told her. 'Nothing we don't already get,' she responded.
"She was right; I had no girlfriend prospects and I was a horny, almost seventeen year-old boy. So I agreed. And we stayed together for the next two years, until we finished high school. That summer she taught me how to kiss, how to dance, to swim, even a few wrestling holds.
"I still remember the day she showed me her breasts, and taught me how she liked them touched. They were magnificent—large and firm, with dark, protruding nipples and areolas. I loved them. And I'll always remember the way she watched my face when she let me take off her bra, her proud smile when she saw how much I adored them.
"I turned eighteen the summer before grade twelve. A couple of days after my birthday she told me to come to her house early in the morning She met me at the front door just wearing a t-shirt and panties. 'Shh, Mom's in the bathroom,' she whispered, and sneaked us up to her bedroom.
"She told me to strip down to my shorts and get in bed with her. I remember how nervous I was. But Jen said as long as we didn't make any noise, her mother wouldn't bother us. She kissed me—a deep, hot kiss, then put her finger on my lips. 'Don't make a sound.' Then she took off her t-shirt, pulled down my shorts, and rubbed me until I orgasmed. She had to kiss me hard to smother my groans. 'Happy birthday,' she whispered."
Beth found herself fascinated by Jonathan's story, and a little turned on. The feeling of her hand sliding up and down his hard cock, his growing breathlessness and shivers of pleasure, all created a feeling of power that she had never experienced before.
"On New Year's Eve," Jonathan continued, "we were alone at her house. We lay on her bed—both of us just in our underpants—and kissed and petted. She got me off—she loved doing that—then put my hand inside her panties. She kept her hand on mine and guided me where and how she liked to be touched. She orgasmed—it was the first time she did that with me—and I got so excited that I came off again. We did that a few more times before the end of high school. Watching her orgasm always gave me one, too.
"I'd got a summer job full-time at an accountancy firm, and we didn't get much time together that summer. In the fall I was going to attend university in another city about two and a half hours away. At summer's end I was taking a few days to go there and pre-register, and find a place to live. Jen volunteered to come with me. 'I'll help you find a nice place to stay, and we can rent a motel room and sleep together.' Two days before we were planning to leave we were at her house. She told me to get naked and lie on her bed, then she stripped to her panties and sat on my thighs. She pushed her hand down inside her panties and rubbed both of us to orgasm. It was incredible for both of us.
"But two days later when I went to pick her up, she wasn't at home. There was no answer at her door, no note, nothing. I waited as long as I could before I had to leave. I never saw her again."
"Omigod," Delora gasped. "That's so sad! So you never saw her completely naked, never had sex with her?"
Jonathan shook his head. "No. But she is the source of my favorite fantasies."
Delora nodded and sped up her hand, squeezing and twisting. "Close your eyes and pretend I'm Jen," she whispered. A few minutes later he shuddered and cried out, and several spurts of creamy liquid oozed over her fingers. Sitting back on her heels and watching him as he caught his breath, she was filled with pride and wonder at what she had just done."
"Congratulations, Delora," came Shannon's annoying voice. "I really wasn't sure you'd be able to do that. Tell Jonathan the first number is on your right shoulder blade."
"Three," Jonathan muttered, his eyes still closed.
Terry's voice replaced Shannon's. "Jonathan, the next challenge is for you. While Delora tells you her favorite fantasy you have to make her orgasm."
Delora groaned.
"Have fun!"
Delora got off the bed. "Stay here. I have to wash my hands."
A couple of minutes later she came back and lay on the bed.
Jonathan sat beside her. "I'm not sure how to go about this," he confessed. "I don't know what you like or don't like."
Delora was blushing furiously. No shame, no guilt. "I need you to tie me up again," Delora whispered. "Hands above my head like before, but feet spread apart, so you can ... you know—touch me the way Jen showed you how to touch her."
Jonathan gaped at her. "Tie you up? Why?"
"Jonathan, please. Just do what I ask, and I'll tell you all about it. It's part of my fantasy. Just make sure they're tight enough to keep me from moving."
Jonathan nodded. It took him several minutes to tie her hands to the head rail, and a bit longer to tie her legs the way she had asked. When he was done he sat on the side of the bed and waited.
"When I was about twelve or thirteen, I was on a sleepover with a classmate—her parents were out for the evening—and she wanted us to watch a porn movie about Red Riding Hood. Red is a beautiful, innocent girl and when she's on the way to grandma's house, a wolf-man captures her and ties her up. Then he takes off all her clothes and starts doing nasty things to her—pinching her nipples, squeezing her breasts, spanking her bottom, touching her puss and putting his fingers inside. Well, of course, she's screaming and trying to get away, but after a while she starts to like what he's doing and she has a huge orgasm. Then she and the wolf-man have sex, and he turns into a handsome prince.
"When the wolf-man is doing those nasty things to Red, my friend puts her hand inside her pajamas and starts rubbing herself. She tells me how good it feels, so I try it, and I imagine the wolf-man is doing those nasty things to me. Ever since then it's been my favorite sex fantasy."
Delora saw the consternation on Jonathan's face. "She was wrong about you wasn't she? Jen. You were really fond of her."
Jonathan breathed a heavy sigh. "I was. I was really broken up when she disappeared like that."
Delora nodded. "Well, if it helps, close your eyes and pretend it's her you're touching."
Jonathan shook his head. "No. I'm going to keep my eyes open and focus on you."
He leaned over her and stroked the soft skin on the inside of her forearms. Gradually we worked his way down to her shoulders, then into her armpits. As he moved slightly lower to the sides of her breasts she gasped, and her nipples stiffened. Encouraged, Jonathan slid his fingers around each breast, slowly moving inwards until he was caressing the nipples. They hardened even more, and her dark areolas crinkled. Remembering her story, Jonathan carefully pinched and pulled at her right nipple, bringing a quiet cry from Delora.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked, anxiously.
"No! No, I'm fine."
He pinched and pulled on her left nipple, a little harder this time, and got a sharper cry. He moved lower, scratching his nails over the skin of her ribs and stomach, teasing her delicately contoured belly button, then running his hands over her sides, down her hips onto the swell of her buttocks. He spent several minutes caressing the skin of her legs—behind her knees, her inner thighs, the creases where her legs met her body. He massaged and scratched at the plump skin under her pubic hair, and slid his fingers into the crease that divided her lips.
Delora hadn't expected to be so aroused. She was squirming with pleasure, shivers and tremors wracking her stretched body. His fingers invaded her private place, delving and probing, creating one delicious sensation after another. The tension inside her belly grew. She moaned, wanting more. His finger found her pleasure button and she stiffened and cried out loud.
The sights and sounds of her arousal fueled Jonathan's own excitement, his penis standing rigid against his belly. Her hips shifted wildly, making it hard to keep his fingers on her sensitive spots. But he managed, pressing hard and rubbing, moving his fingers down to catch her lubricating fluids, then back up over that pink, frilly right inner lip, pulling and pinching, gathering more cries and gasps.
Panting and gasping at the almost unbearable pressure inside her, Delora strained at the ropes binding her. She needed to move, but the ropes kept her stretched and helpless. "Jonathan, please!" she cried out.
He sped up his finger on her clit, and pressed two fingers up inside her. He thrust and rubbed, thrust and rubbed. Her gasps and cries became almost constant; he felt her body tense against him. He ramped up the pressure and movement on her clit and she clenched her vagina around his fingers. Her body went rigid, quivering and spasming. Her mouth opened wide in a long, shrill wail. His own pleasure overcame him, spurting over his belly and thighs.
"Jonathan! Stop!! Please stop!" she screamed She felt his hand pull away, but the surges of pleasure kept coming.
He watched in concern, until her moans and spasms subsided and her breathing started to slow. Carefully he untied her—first her wrists, then her feet.
"Well done, Jonathan," came Terry's voice. "You've earned another number—on her right butt cheek."
"One," Jonathan remembered.
"So, your next challenge," came Shannon's voice. "Drum roll, please." A staccato pounding came through the speaker. "Delora, once you recover, we want you to suck off Jonathan and make him shoot in your mouth."
Delora squealed in shock.
"It's not quite as bad as you think, Delora," Shannon teased. "Bye, now."
Delora stared at Jonathan. "How many combinations?" she asked.
"One hundred and twenty," Jonathan answered.
"So I have to do this," Delora whispered.
Jonathan nodded.
Delora squeezed her eyes tight and clenched her fists, her fingernails biting into the skin of her palms. "I'd like us to wash first, if you don't mind."
Together they moved to the bathroom, Jonathan standing in the doorway while Delora soaked the wash cloth in warm water and cleaned between her legs. She rinsed out the cloth and turned to Jonathan. "Can I wash you?"
"What?" Her question was completely unexpected. A mental shrug—she's going to be putting it in her mouth. "Um, yes. Okay. If you want."
Delora felt as though she had a permanent blush on her face—all these intimate actions she'd never dreamed of doing before. She knelt in front of him, took his soft, pink penis in her hand and gently washed it. Rinsing out the cloth she wiped his scrotal sac, his thighs, and his belly. Then one more rinse, and pat dry with the towel. That wasn't so bad. "There, you're done."
"Thank you." Nobody's ever done anything that intimate to me before. He helped Delora to her feet, and stared down into her still-blushing face. "May I ... kiss you?"
Delora gaped, staring at him in surprise. Omigod. She nodded, mute. Jonathan bent his face to hers and placed a soft kiss on her full, red lips. A heartbeat ... two ... she kissed back. Tentatively at first, then with increasing passion. Clasping her hands around his neck, pulling her naked body against his; his penis pressing hard and hot against her belly.
She released him and stepped back. "Wow!"
"Uh-huh."
"Jen taught you well."
"You're pretty good, too."
"Are we ...?"
"I don't know. It may be just ..." He gestured over his shoulder at the room outside. "All this."
Delora nodded. "We'd better get started."
He took her hand and walked them back to the bed. He lay down on the left side of the bed leaving her room on his right side.
Delora climbed on beside him, and sat on her heels. "I've never done this before," she whispered.
"I've never had it done to me," he murmured back.
"Tell me if I do anything wrong?"
"I will."
He was growing again. Delora lifted it tentatively. It hardened even more. His foreskin stretched and opened over the pointed, dark pink head. Curiously, Delora looked at the hole in the tip. He pees through that. And shoots his sperm. She'd studied enough human anatomy to know that the two functions were kept separate by the prostate. Still she felt a mild disgust at the thought of that inside her mouth.
She bent her head and touched her lips to the shaft. It was hard and warm, and the skin was soft and clean. She kissed it, and tasted it with her tongue. It doesn't really taste like anything. She kissed and licked down to the base, then back up again. When she reached the dark pink head, peeking out from its hood, she licked it like an ice cream. That's not bad. She surrounded the tip with her lips and licked again, then let it in a bit further. Jonathan let out a moan, and Delora felt a flush of pride.
He was fully hard and stiff, and she clasped her hand tight around his shaft. She bobbed her head farther down, pushing her tongue against the tip as it slid into her mouth. Jonathan cried out. A sense of power swelled inside her. She pulled her head back, then pushed down again, moving her hand on his shaft at the same time.
Jonathan gasped and bucked. "Omigod! That's good!"
A smile grew on Delora's face and she continued moving her mouth and hand, taking him further in each time. After a few more times, she lifted her head to look at him. His eyes were closed, his mouth was open, his lungs were working hard. His eyes opened wide, staring at her, pleading.
Delora straddled his legs and lowered her head over him again, taking in as much as she could. She used her tongue and lips to rub against his head, pumping her hand along his shaft at the same time. His hips jerked up, pushing him deep against the back of her throat. She pulled back, almost choking, then held him firmly and took him back into her mouth. She sucked and licked, bobbed and swirled, raising her eyes to watch him. She felt the tremors in his body, heard his labored panting, and knew he was getting close to his climax.
In my mouth? Ogod! His hips pumped, making it difficult to move on him without gagging. She tried holding her head steady, letting him push in and out of her mouth, clasping her fist tightly as his shaft slipped through it. And suddenly his hips flew up, hard, tremors and spasms shook his body, his shaft pulsed in her hand. A shout tore from his throat and a spurt of warm, salty liquid struck the back of her tongue. Reflexively she swallowed. Two more spurts followed. She squeezed and sucked him, wanting to stretch out his pleasure.
Delora watched as he quieted, a look of bliss and relaxation transforming his face. She licked his dark pink head and giggled as he shuddered and cried out. She squeezed her hand on his shaft and felt it starting to soften. Sitting back on her heels she looked at him tenderly, feeling a sudden surge of affection. I did it!
Shannon's voice came through the speaker, startling her. "Well done, Delora. The next number is the one under your boob."
"Was that nine?" she queried Jonathan. He nodded mutely.
Terry's voice sounded. "Jonny-boy, you're up. As you may have guessed it's your turn for a little oral fun. You get to eat out Delora. Think of it as the penultimate test of manhood." He laughed hilariously at his own joke.
"I hate him," Jonathan said through clenched teeth.
"How many combinations now?" Delora asked.
"Twenty-four. Doable, but not practicable."
Delora nodded. "We do this, and we're down to what? Six?"
"Yes."
Thinking about Jonathan's mouth on her private parts sent a quiver deep inside her. At the same time she became conscious of the dampness between her thighs. She couldn't prevent herself from blushing. "Jonathan," she whispered. "I'm ... it might be a bit icky down there. I should go and wash."
Jonathan put his hand on her arm to stop her from getting up. "No. It's okay. If I do it right you're probably just going to get wet again."
"Are you sure?"
Jonathan chuckled. "I just ejaculated in your mouth., and you didn't complain Tasting your wetness can't be any worse."
"It actually wasn't too bad," Delora admitted. "I kind of ... enjoyed ... the whole experience."
"Huh." Jonathan stared at her for a moment, then sat up. "Lie down." He hesitated. "Do you need me to tie you up again?"
Delora thought a moment, then shook her head. "No. I think I'll be fine."
She lay down in the middle of the mattress, pushing herself right to the head of the bed, and opened her legs. Jonathan lay down between them, positioning his head right over her pubic mound. Using his fingers he separated her fleshy outer lips, exposing the dark pink features between, and dipped his head.
Her surfaces were wet and shiny. Her musky scent was enticing. The long frilly lip he had noticed earlier drew his attention and he pulled it between his lips, suckling it. He felt her shiver and heard her gasp of pleasure. Encouraged, he ran his tongue over the various folds and fissures, testing her reaction to each. Her gasps, sighs, and moans escalated giving him more confidence to explore. He'd been saving her clitoris for last, and finally moved higher and rubbed his tongue against it.
Delora almost screamed at the intensity of the sensation as Jonathan's tongue found her already-sensitive sweet spot. She wasn't able to sort out what he was doing, but it felt glorious, sending waves and waves of agonizing pleasure through her innards. It's even better than what he did with his hands!
Jonathan increased the pressure and movement of his tongue. Using his right hand, he carefully pushed two fingers inside her vagina. She was very wet, and they slid in easily. He began pumping her in time with the movement of his tongue. Her thighs and abdomen tensed and trembled; her hips and bottom shifted back and forth. She was close to climax. He sped up his movements; she wailed, her hips flew upward, her hands pushed down on his head, trying to dislodge him. He hung on stubbornly, wanting to give her at least as much as she had given him.
Delora knew only the agonizing shocks tearing through her, surging and bursting. Intense colors she couldn't describe flooded her vision. Blood roared in her ears, almost but not quite drowning out the crescendoing wail coming from her mouth. She tried to push Jonathan away, tried to tell him she'd had enough, but he wouldn't let her go. Finally she pounded her fists against his skull, and the pressure eased.
Jonathan lay down beside her and took her quivering body in his arms, cradling her head on his chest.
"Atta-boy, Jonny-boy!" came Terry's unwelcome voice. "Now you have become a man." Shannon's laughter joined Terry's. "The next number in the sequence is ... let's see ... Oh yes, her right lip. You had fun writing those, didn't you Shannon."
Giggles from Shannon. "Oh, my, yes. Such a pretty puss. But back to business. Now you're down to six combinations, and I'm sure you want to try those."
"But there's one thing we didn't tell you," Terry continued. "There's a security feature on the keypad. Three wrong guesses and the keypad locks you out. You need a three digit code to unlock it."
"So, we have one more challenge for you," Shannon chortled. "Full genital sex. There's condoms in the bathroom, so no fear of disease or pregnancy. You're free to try for the combination now. If you fail, then do the challenge and we'll give you the three-digit code."
"Or," chuckled Terry, "just do the nasty right now, and we'll give you the fifth number, leaving you just two combinations to try."
The speaker fell silent, and Delora glanced at Jonathan,
"We knew it would come to this," he told her.
Delora was still cuddled comfortably in his arms. "Shall we try to guess the combination first?" she asked, not sure what answer she was hoping for.
Jonathan studied her face. "How are you feeling? About what we've done. About us. Our intimacies?"
Delora groaned. "I'm not sure! I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy what you just did to me. And what I did to you before that."
Jonathan nodded. "Quite frankly I didn't expect anything more from what we were doing than some physical pleasure. But I'm developing feelings for you. Feelings that I haven't had for a long time. And those feelings have made this whole experience much more than just physical pleasure."
Delora snuggled lazily against his chest. "Oh, good! I thought it was just me, and I was afraid to tell you what I was feeling. So what are we going to do?"
"Once this is all over, I'd like to keep seeing you. At the very least to find out if these feelings are real, or just a result of what we're going through."
"I'd like that. But what about right now?"
Jonathan gestured to the speaker. "I don't want to give them the satisfaction of thinking they beat us. Right now we have a fifty-fifty chance of getting the combination in three tries. If we fail, we have to perform for them in order to get the reset code. I don't want our first time together to be because they tell us to. I think we should just give them their show and get the next number."
"Sex. But on our own terms," Delora clarified.
"That's right."
Delora thought about it. They've seen me orgasm, twice. They've seen me give and receive oral sex. They wrote numbers on my puss! Jonathan's right—we need to take control. So, sex it is.
She threw her leg over Jonathan's hip and sat up. He was ready, and she was still wet. She took his rigid penis in her hand and lifted herself above, trying to line it up with her vagina. Carefully she lowered herself until she felt his tip right at the mouth.
Delora's move had taken him by surprise, and she was lowering herself onto him before he could protest. Jonathan stared up at her proud, beaming face. Looks like she's taken control. He raised his long arms and cupped her pert little breasts in the palms of his hands.
She had to work herself up and down several times before she finally took all of him in. But the sensation of his hardness sliding against her soft walls was glorious. She tilted her hips to increase the pressure against her front wall and gasped at the intensity of it. She rode him, steadily increasing her pace in time with the pulses of pleasure.
Jonathan had already had three orgasms and even though what Delora was doing felt incredible, he felt no urgency. He moved with her, raising his hips to her as she pushed down. His thumbs rubbed the hard nubs of her nipples. He lowered his right hand to the base of her belly and slid his finger into the division between her outer lips. He rubbed her clit and she exploded. As she fell onto him he rolled them both over and moved himself inside her.
Delora was lost in a galaxy of incredible sensation. Somehow Jonathan was on top of her, inside her, driving and thrusting, doing impossible things to her insides. And just when she thought she couldn't take any more, she felt the pulsations of his climax and the thankful release of her own.
The door had opened into a mini labyrinth of cubicles. Their clothes and belongings were piled on the floor. A little self-consciously they faced each other and dressed. Jonathon's smart watch said two forty-three A.M.
"Happy April Fools," he said to Delora.
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