That Time Pup Was Celibate for a Little Bit, Part Nine

The day after Sir left town, I was a little mopey (as I usually am when he does) and invited Pup over to hang out. We had agreed that it was probably for the best that he and Sir and I had not endeavored to threesome that evening. But, we hadn’t totally addressed the whole breaking into a dynamic thing.

Pup and I were hanging around on my couch when the other night somehow came up, and I made some snarky comment about him “breaking his sacred vow.” I was still laughing when he shoved me off of my couch and onto the floor.

“You’re a little bitch, you know that?” He said in a way that made me pause for a moment to see if he was joking or not.

“Is this okay?” I asked. I was still lying on my floor. “Like, are you serious or…?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m good. I’m just playing.”

I nodded, “okay, good, right. Are you sure you want to?” I brought myself up to my knees.

“Yeah.” I went to stand and he stopped me, reaching down to unzip his pants.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course. Of course the first fucking thing you want is that." 

He grinned and shoved my mouth down on his cock. "Shut up,” he murmured as he applied pressure to the back of my head. I humored him for a few minutes before pulling back and shaking my head. “No, you don’t get off that easy.”

Pup pushed me back down. He got up and swept his foot under my skirt, kicking it up over my stomach. Despite my earlier claim that I really only wore stay-ups, I was wearing an old pair of tights that had a little rip on the thigh. They matched my outfit better than any of my stay-ups and I didn’t actually think I was going to be showing anyone what was happening underneath my skirt. 

Pup crouched down and hooked his finger into the rip. He jerked his hand up, tearing them further until most of my inner thigh was exposed. “I like this,” he said, giving another tug.

“You’re ruining them,” I huffed.

“Aw,” he tore into the crotch. “I think you can still wear these. They look better now.”