So yeah I wrote some porn, and it was pretty fun. Please batter me with caustic remarks if you find any errors or anything you don't like.
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“Master!” the bubbly young woman called as she popped out from behind a rack of men's blazers, her pink hair a conspicuous highlight amidst rows of black and grey. “Put these on and you might actually look handsome for once. Please, just for me?”
He couldn't say no to that smile – not that she would let him in the first place, anyhow. When dealing with Medb, even an innocent, charming little request was in truth a concealed order, and if he refused to follow, she'd make sure he knew the consequences. Most of the time, though, what she wanted was nothing much: she'd find a table at a nice cafe and expect him to always get her her favourite coffee, just as she liked it – light with a bit extra cream and a nice sprinkling of cinnamon, for the record – or she'd ask for him to pick up a cake from a supermarket. Perfectly ordinary things.
So when she handed him a stack of neatly folded clothes, he had no idea that within the next hour, he'd have for the first time experienced three entirely unexpected things – all because of her incessant whims. Unfortunately for him, by the end of the day his shame would be something he'd have long since been forced to set aside.
“Fine, fine,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “But I'm responsible for how much this costs, so it'd better be reasonable, okay? I'll let you know when I'm dressed.”
She didn't answer that, instead distracting him with a beaming smile and, reaching up on her tiptoes, a quick peck on the cheek. Grabbing his shoulders, she turned him right around so that he was facing the fitting rooms.
“I won't wait long, Master,” she whispered as he slipped behind a white sliding door, knowing full well he couldn't hear her. 'All the better,' was Medb's only thought as her smile turned from sweet to sly as soon as she was alone.
In the fitting room, her Master didn't think much of his situation. Beside him there was a small, waist-high counter where he'd placed the pile of clothes, and by that a pair of hangers attached to the wall. The centrepiece of the stall – because calling it a 'room' was being a bit generous – was, as he'd expected, a full-height mirror stretching up from the wooden floor. Nodding, he took a moment to look himself up and down.
The figure who looked back made a decidedly average impression, not being too plain and milquetoast, but not being enough to stand out in a crowd. He couldn't be considered truly tall; instead, he was lucky that Medb was short enough to make him look bigger than he really was. He had a decent build, and couldn't call himself unfit even out of humility, but trim as he was he wouldn't be confused for an athlete. Medb, he realized, most likely understood this, but also understood that clothes make a man. Good fashion goes a long way, and despite what she usually liked to wear for fun, the woman had refined taste.
She was a queen, after all. That was something her Master too often forgot.
One by one, he held up and examined each piece of the outfit she had put together for him: solid navy blue socks with matching slacks, an even, subtle crease down each leg. The belt was already accounted for: black leather, already wrapped around his jeans, nothing to catch the eye but nice enough to mesh with the rest of the style that'd been picked out for him. On top of all that, Medb had found a brown blazer; holding it up by the collar it looked a little oversized, but he tried it on and found that it fit snugly on his chest and shoulders, and the sleeves didn't sag down too low on his arms, either.
At the bottom of the pile were a woollen, crew neck sweater and a check shirt, respectively grey and a cross-hatched black and white. A solid ensemble from what he could tell; he didn't have enough experience to fault Mebd's fashion sense, and he knew an undoubtedly large part of her motivation was based on her own aesthetic tastes, not necessarily a general belief in what looks good. Because of that, he had to partly worry that he was going to look like a fool out in public and all the while she'd assure him that he looked fine and dashing.
What was endearing and attractive to her potentially wouldn't make the best first impression with anyone else.
Regardless, she had asked him to try these clothes on, and he wasn't going to disobey. It was only a matter of minutes before he'd stripped down to just his boxers and then dressed up in the whole outfit that had been chosen especially for him.
He turned around a couple of times in front of the mirror, grabbing the front of his unbuttoned blazer, feeling the fabric and admiring his own new look. Not bad, he thought, and smiled as he wondered just how Medb might react when he stepped out from the stall. He didn't feel worried any more about going out in public wearing this – quite the opposite, in fact. Just by seeing his figure in the mirror he felt a surge of confidence, and his smile remained as he rapped his knuckles on the door and called out.
“Hey Medb, I'm coming out now, you ready?”
Taking in a deep breath, he turned the lock, began to pull on the handle, and then was nearly knocked flat on his well-dressed ass as the door abruptly pushed back against him.
A sharp, almost cinnamon scent was what hit him next, and he stumbled back against the mirror, hearing a sharp click as the door again closed – and locked.
Medb stood proudly in front of him, her back to the door. She wore a bright skirt over black tights, and a white, slightly baggy sweater. Her hands were on her hips, and on her lips was a devious smile. Her Master didn't even need to guess what was on her mind: when she gave him that look, he knew without a shred of doubt what she was thinking about – or, more accurately, what she possibly never stopped thinking about. At this point, his hindsight gave him a kick and made him groan internally, knowing he should have expected this or something like it to happen. Too late now, he supposed, and in his resigned thoughts he simply shrugged.
She set her handbag aside on the counter, atop her Master's old, folded clothes – a very pointed gesture, and one that made him swallow. Then she stepped forward, slipping off her shoes, getting closer and closer to him until she stared up into his eyes, biting her lip. She didn't have to say a single word for him to understand what she wanted, and she knew that well. Thank God he wasn't so oblivious anymore.
“In public, are you sure about this?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow, his voice hushed.
It took her a few moments to respond. “You look quite dashing, Master. I'm glad I get to be the first to see you like this; I'm sure most girls would be very interested in a man as handsome as you are right now.”
Verbally, she evaded the question completely, but he knew that it wasn't because she hadn't given him an answer. On the contrary, she had, and still was.
It was the combination of the longing look in her eyes, the slight smirk on her lips, and the brief caress of her fingers against him as she reached her hands into his blazer, touching his chest. This was the first new, unexpected experience of the day: sex in public, because even if she didn't specifically ask him anything in particular, there was no way he could bring himself to say no to what could be more politely called her 'copulatory gaze.'
She, on the other hand, just called them her 'fuck me eyes' and she was doing her damnedest to ensure their purpose was understood.
Her lips were close enough to his that he could feel her soft breaths, and sooner than she'd expected he had bridged that gap, drawing her into a kiss. For his part, he at least tried to make it gentle and romantic, but Medb wasn't going to have any of that. She shoved him back against the mirror, grasping his blazer by the front with both hands and sliding it down his arms until it fell to the floor. She never once let up, fumbling with his belt buckle as she slid her tongue into his mouth, keeping the intensity going without letting herself slow down. The enjoyment wasn't so much in savouring the moment as it was getting caught in the heat of it, letting things happen as they did without too much thought.
He responded by sliding his hand up the back of her thigh, feeling the thin fabric of her tights until her cupped her ass in his palm, his fingers kneading her pale skin. He could feel her smile as he groped her, playing along perfectly with what she wanted.
His belt jingled as it was tossed down to join his blazer, and Medb wasted no time at all in feeling up the growing bulge in his pants, her fingers nimble and practised as they reached for and undid button and fly. With a downward jerk of both hands, she brought down his pants and boxers both to mid-thigh, and broke off from the kiss momentarily to catch her breath.
“Finished already?” he asked with a smile of his own, his arms wrapping around her waist – a warm embrace at first, but then he showed his true colours as he grabbed the hem of her sweater and lifted it up and over her head, her arms upraised, the pile of clothes at their feet seeing a new addition.
“Just try to stop me,” came her response. She pressed her body against his, enjoying the eroticism of not getting to see him fully unclothed, while she herself was almost topless.
Or fully topless, as was the case just a few seconds later: she reached a hand behind her back, undid the clasp of her lacy black bra, and shortly let it join her sweater down below.
Her Master leaned down, gazing into her eyes and leaning over her as though to take her lips again in his, but just as she reached out for him, he ducked lower. He held her left breast in his hand, his tongue laving at her stiff, light nipple; at first her flicked at it, gently then he wrapped his lips around it, sucking and kissing with more passion than he'd given her before in their more proper kiss. She wasn't jealous.
As if to chastise him, she dug her nails into his back, trying to scratch his skin through the cotton fabric. It was a chastisement that spurred him on more, made him hold her small breast tighter, as if to draw more of her into his mouth.
“More,” was all she could say as a gasp escaped her tight lips – but not the lips her Master had in mind at that moment.
As he kneaded her with one hand, the other stroked her thigh, a surreptitious movement she only half-noticed; she shivered as his fingers, dancing across her tights, disappeared under the curtain of her red skirt, leaving everything to her fervent imagination. Like a shadow ply, all she had were brief touches and implications: a caress between her tensed thighs, leaving his fingers just barely wet, a subtle drip from her crotch absorbed by the thin fibres of her tights, hardly a trace left to be seen.
Freeing his hand from her chest, her Master watched her eyes with a strange intensity she couldn't quite read. Before she knew it, his fingers were intertwining with her hair; his palm was on the back of her head – forcing her to stare back at him, just as she wanted to, but instead of willing her body to do as she wished, it was him taking that control away.
Those gentle fingers had vanished from beneath her skirt, reaching up with a brief flutter of clothing, and her grip on him loosened little by little as she watched.
Those same two fingers with which he'd touched her, ingratiating himself to her through bare physicality, glistened. Slick, he ran them up his chin and over his lips, sliding them effortlessly into his mouth.
As though he was savouring a treat, he brought what Medb had begun to a standstill.
Everything hung on him, not her, and she was left with little power but to watch. And so she did, as he suckled both fingers deep to the second joint, running his tongue along them, tasting her.
The whole time he did this, he didn't take his eyes off her once. Just as hers before had silently made demands, so did his; there was only so much a glance could say, however. At some point, words had to be used, much as it displeased either of them. Medb wanted this to continue, feeling an elation rising up to her heart, every second of this drawn-out display building an anticipation she couldn't distract her mind from. It affected her like a haze, leaving her guessing as to what would come next, the dominant, active role passing from her to him without a single word exchanged either way.
She simply let what happened, happen – and enjoyed it.
“Undress,” was his only word, given to her in a calm whisper to her ear.
Medb brought her hands to the band of her tights, leaning over just a little so that she could comply. In the same motion that brought him to her ankles, her panties went along too, revealing her whole figure to him, nothing left hidden away. Her pose, almost hunched over, forced her to crane her neck as far back as possible just so that she could meet his gaze again, and he was smiling, his hand tousling her pink hair, his chest rising as he breathed in her sweet cinnamon scent.
She gave him a look, then, as if to ask curiously: 'and you?'
“I like the outfit you picked out too much to take it off already.”
With a nod, she accepted, rising back up – though in a way it didn't matter even if she stood on the tips of her toes; he had a good ten inches on her, her nose only coming up to his chest. More than her Master was tall, Medb herself was quite short, something her attitude normally made up for; but not now, not in this fitting room where they had only each other to compare with.
He wrapped his arms around the small of her back, drawing her in close, her fingers tracing lines along his shoulder blades as his made their way down, down.
She started a little when, with both hands, he gripped her ass with a tight pinch, easing into a casual grasp. It was her, not him, who began their next kiss: her lips playfully touched his collarbone as she tucked his shirt just far enough out of the way to touch his skin with her hot lips. It was only natural for her to reach up, first to his freshly shaved neck, drinking in the scent he wore, then to his jaw. With a smirk she grazed her teeth on his skin, ever so gently, kissing around his mouth, delaying what was inevitable. He didn't try to rush her; he knew what was going to happen would happen, in due time.
When she was in a sweetly loving mood like this, he had all the time in the world for her.
That sweetness, as ever, only lasted until her lips locked with his.
As if regaining her passion all over again, she pushed into him with both her body and her tongue, taking what she knew was hers. She hoped, somewhat, that he wasn't starting to get dizzy from how often the tables seemed to be turning. If he wanted to be in charge, that would be something he would have to fight for, and right now he was hardly putting up a resistance.
Perhaps he wanted to, but then Medb grasped him where he was weakest to her temptations. Her left hand slid down to his pants, his erection hanging stiffly over the undone belt and button, opened up for Medb's own convenience. She was partly of a mind to fall to her knees and let him pretend that he was in charge, but her more coy, mischievous side vetoed that, not wanting to give him that satisfaction – not before he had earned it. With a smirk, she briefly pulled her face away from him, staring into his eyes with a look in her own all too similar to the one she'd worn before, when this had all began.
Her Master shook his head and chuckled – and let her do as she wished. Being gracious, he might have called it, but to Medb, it was him yielding to her whims.
“Shall we switch?” was what she asked, gazing up at him with a certain purposefully languid stare. It was another one of her demands phrased, in her subversive style, as a question.
He didn't give her an answer, not in words. With his smooth, slender hands returning to her back, he spun her around more like they were in a ballroom than a fitting room; now she felt the crisp, icy shock of flat glass on her chest, making her arch back – which just gave her Master an opening to hold her there, hands roaming up her stomach to her breasts, cupping them both. It was an unsubtle, almost impatient gesture, but one she was willing to go along with.
Reaching back, her fingers grasped the steady heat of his cock, feeling his head pressing against the supple flesh of her ass; as if in response he let his hands fall to her thighs, as though he'd wanted them there all along.
As she guided him inside her, he let his head rest on her shoulder. His hesitant breaths, hot with anticipation, blew through the silky strands of pink that fell down her back, and more than that she could feel his weight on her. Before this moment there had been the promise of what would happen here; now, that promise was being fulfilled, and she shivered just a little, but enough for him to notice.
“I love you,” he spoke so casually into her ear, his voice low, his tone embodying more of a roughness than the gentler affection those words implied.
He slid in smoothly, only halfway at first, but Medb leaned more of her body on the mirror, relaxed, and let him take her, gripping her thighs to keep her steady. He swallowed, all of a sudden feeling uneasy, unsure, glancing back to see if anyone had opened to door to the stall – forgetting that there was a mirror right there before his eyes.
He could be forgiven for misremembering that, though: most of what was reflected in the glass was Medb herself, her face pressed close enough that her Master could see a bead of sweat making its way down her forehead.
Pressing his chest against her back, feeling how warm she was, he pushed his hips forward without much of a rhythm.
“You say you love me,” she said , matching his gaze in the mirror, “and then you do this? It makes me think you don't care... do you?”
He laughed, kissing her bare, slender shoulder, brushing some of her loose hair out of the way with his nose.
“We could always go home, continue this later...” He let his sentence trail off very pointedly, watching her reflected reaction, enjoying the way her nose wrinkled just a bit when he was all the way inside her, his thighs flush against her ass.
Medb let out a quiet sigh, shaking her head. “This isn't what I expected from you. Aren't you going to be more rough, really get into it? You never know when we'll be able to have fun like this again. Why waste the opportunity, hmm?”
He shrugged in response, teasing his fingers between her legs. “What's going to waste? There's just you, me, alone and intimate here with our reflections.”
This time, her sigh held a more obvious tone of frustration, becoming more of a grumble as she tapped her fingers against the glass. Looking down at her feet she saw her Master's, covered up by navy blue socks, just behind hers and slightly more spread apart. His hands were on her hips now, and he drew out, out until just a bare inch was still inside her, then he slowly sank back in – far too relaxed, like he was easing himself into a bath.
“Fuck me properly or I'm going to scream as if I am,” she spat, her brow knitted in defiant, simmering anger. Despite her outward emotion she was still quite hushed, but every word she spoke was louder than the last, little by little,.
“Oh?” her Master retorted, raising an eyebrow. “So we're doing only what you want, are we? That doesn't seem fair.”
Medb couldn't help herself, and smiled back at him. “And here I thought you'd be more than happy to rail me against the wall like this. Embarrassed?”
She stuck out her tongue, teasing him with a wiggle of her hips. He could feel his heart beating more heavily, his eyes unable to pull away from the sight of her parted lips nearly touching the mirror, her steady panting fogging up the flat sheen of the glass. She wasn't wrong; with her standing there in front of him, he was more than tempted, and yet he thought he could control how their little public fling would go.
As soon as he had stopped to think, he'd lost the game of wills he was unconsciously playing a part in.
When she sighed again, easing herself backwards, pressing against him knowing full well how he felt, that was the last he could take. A pang of disappointment struck him, but it lasted for the briefest of moments before he was digging his fingers into her thighs once more and pressing his chest against her bare, arched back.
As though no one was nearby to hear them, he jerked his hips forward, sinking his whole length in deep; Medb gasped, wanting to let out a cry of long-awaited satisfaction – but, her rational mind cautioning her now of all times, she didn't, and let her pleasure be expressed through a low, breathy moan, condensing against the cool glass. There was nothing she had to do: her Master took her completely, letting his wandering arms embrace her whole slender figure; one hand kneaded at her breasts, the other ventured down between her thighs, to tease at her clit.
Her whole body shook with every pounding motion he made, holding her completely. Soon her legs were feeling like jelly, her ass red and sore and her chest marked from the rough fabric of his clothes, but he kept her steady and upright through it all.
The sheer exhilaration kept her going, and after a while she couldn't tell how loud they were being; it simply didn't matter any more – what mattered was that it felt good.
“Don't stop, don't st-” she begged, but her words were sharply cut off when her Master cradled her chin and, with her lips parted, slipped two wet fingers in her mouth.
At first she frowned with her ever-expressive brow, then happily shook her head, her hair dancing about her shoulders, and let her tongue roll around his skin. She suckled his fingers, returning the service he'd given to her breasts; she didn't at all realize that he'd done this to keep her quiet, not as part of the eroticism – but all that mattered was how Medb chose to interpret it. Naturally, she thought first of what pleased her most.
“Fuh me, hrphr,” was all she could managed to moan out in the midst of all this; her Master laughed, understanding.
He obeyed her, of course – as always.
Her whole body shook, and now it wasn't just because of him slamming her against the mirror, time after time. Her skin was hot with sweat, flushed all over, a tingle running across the whole of her back. She could feel the climax coming on, like a wave about to wash over her; she closed her eyes, her small toes curling up against the floor, and she let out a long, heavy breath against her Master's fingers. All of a sudden her body became light, her head even lighter, and every heartbeat seemed to reverberate through her from head to curled toe.
Unconsciously, she lifted herself up on tiptoes, her legs getting tight and tense, as if to prolong the sensation of pleasure rushing through her – but too soon she could feel it flowing away.
With that she was spent, lost in her own little world. She could hardly pay attention to what her Master was doing, but she was sure he was enjoying this in his own way. She didn't have the energy left for much else, so she idly sucked on his fingers, vaguely hearing him let out a groan, then saying a few words – she couldn't discern any of it.
A moment later, she snapped back to reality: back in the fitting room, no longer in a dreamlike haze of her own making.
Realizing at once – from more than ample experience with the man, of course – what was going on, she vigorously shook her head side-to-side; she would've told him to stop, but that just would have come out as a sad, unintelligible wheeze.
Ever the gentleman, her Master pulled out, giving her an inquisitive – and slightly frustrated – look, trying to discern her expression from her flushed reflection in the breath-fogged mirror.
Without a word she got down on her knees; she winked and stuck out her tongue, her mouth open wide. It was enough of a hint for him to get what she wanted.
“You're sure? I've never- not in your mouth, I mean...” he said, caught up in the moment, flustered, with cock sensitive and him feeling about to burst, his whole body thrumming with pleasure cut perfectly short. This was the second new, unexpected experience for him; Medb always had a way of making him do new things – forcefully, or otherwise.
Her response was just to frown again with her eyebrows until he gave in.
Pulling her hair back behind her shoulders, she kept her eyes open, staring up at him as he let her take half of him in her mouth. Several inches disappeared past those soft, pink lips, and that alone was enough to send him over the edge.
The only hand she had on him was massaging his balls, as if to coax him to let out all he had. He seemed happy enough to oblige: his fingers dug into her shoulder where he held her tight, and soon she felt splashes of warmth pouring out onto her tongue, one after another, after another. It dripped off the sides over her equally white teeth, spilling into her cheeks, touching the back of her throat. When she was quite sure he was finished – judging from his deep, steadying breaths – she drew her head back, tilted just so nothing would make an unfortunate mess, and gave his head a polite lick and a kiss.
Smiling, she flashed him her tongue, showing the pool of white there for an instant far too short for him to appreciate. Then, without any further ceremony, she swallowed.
They basked in this private moment of bliss, hearing nothing but the sounds of their breaths, content for once to just stay there: Medb on her knees, naked on the floor, and her Master standing tall over her. Perhaps having some much-deserved fun in public wasn't so bad.
“Excuse me?” came an unfamiliar voice from the side, accompanied by a knock, shattering the pleasant silence. “Sir? Miss?”
Medb and her Master at once glanced to the door, seeing a store employee holding it open, a key dangling from her hand, her eyes going wide, her lips open but no more words coming out.
The pair froze up at once, but reacted as quickly as they could, scrambling like birds from a cat. Medb didn't bother with anything beyond her skirt and top, slipping them on and dragging her Master, thankfully still clothed but fidgeting with his belt, straight out. Holding him by his sweaty hand, she rushed past the employee, picking up her purse along the way and tossing the intruder a small stack of bills as she made her less than subtle exit.
Having barely gotten over his orgasm, her Master let himself be taken away, not even thinking about what would happen if someone caught up with them. All that mattered was that Medb had a plan – and that, hopefully, they'd get out of here without a hitch.
Escaping from a department store with the fear of public indecency charges at his back: that was the third, and final, new and vastly unexpected experience of the day.
He decided quite quickly that the last one of the three wasn't the best and the day would likely have been much better had things gone differently and that list only had two points.
When Medb pulled him into the dim parking garage with no one around, he breathed a long sigh of relief, drinking in the stuffy, gasoline-tinged air. There was still sweat on his back and his brow, but that was something to deal with later: maybe a shower for two, if he was lucky. For the moment, he felt lucky enough that they got away unscathed and managed to find their car without too much of an issue.
Then, Medb shot him an odd look, her hand rifling around in her purse, coming up empty.
“Master? The keys?”
Looking down at his new pants, he patted his pockets – they were perfectly flat. His heart dropped like a rock. He found himself, with a sudden fear rising up in his chest, staring slowly back to the stairwell, seeing no one there but knowing what had to be done.
Swallowing his pride, he told Medb to stay by the car, and did up the buttons on his shirt as though to make himself somehow more presentable.
With that, he began his walk of shame back to the fitting room.
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Thanks go to a certain infamous ex-poster for giving it a read-through.
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Originally Posted by Snow
