Cold Flames

Chapter 11 : "Talk"

"Okay, I'll go first." He said playfully. I didn't know what kind of questions he had in mind, but they couldn't be that bad. Suddenly he turned solemn. "Tell me what your first time was like." he states in an almost bored tone. Excuse me? What kind of question is that? I couldn't possibly answer that. No choice, one piece of clothing. I took off my socks first. Maybe it was just my imagination, but he seemed disappointed. He didn't expect me to answer did he? Well maybe he should get a taste of his own medicine. "Okay, my turn...um...what's your fetish?"

He smiled with satisfactory. "I like kinky shit, BDSM, spanking a nice ass, choking, and having a girl choke on my dick. You can choke me too. Ive been having a growing interest in public display... but I'd def risk us fucking in someone's closet." He said as if this was a common question for him. I shifted uncomfortably, while awkwardly rubbing my throat. "I don't think that was what my question was aimed at..." I said offhandedly. "Are you really debating it?" he said with a raised eyebrow and a half smile. Goddess, he was so sexy.

I shook my head no quickly. "Okay then. My turn then." His excitement made me more nervous. "What fantasy makes you most aroused? I want to know what you think about when you need a good image to help yourself off that proverbial ledge of satisfaction." Um...What the hell kind of game is this?! One piece of clothing... I'll take my shirt off. I have a bra on, rather lacy though. He smiled in satisfaction, but his eyes still showed disappointment. I refuse to answer that question; it's personal. I don't need him screwing with something that has no links to anyone I've dealt with. If I relate it to him, and this turns bad, so does the imagery along with him. He would just have to find out another means of getting me off. "Okay... what do you like to do in the daytime?" I asked, not ready for another one of his explicit descriptions.

"Sleep." He said bluntly. "Obviously. What else though?" I asked quickly. "Ah ah ah. It's my turn now. Let's see...How big was your ex's? I just got to know what I got to top." He said with a smile. Outrageous! He probably knew I wouldn't answer that. I sighed and he giggled. "One piece of clothing, right?" I asked defeated. He nodded with a smile on his face. Okay, I guess I'll do the nightgown...man. "Why am I the only one that's stripping!" I said aloud, exasperated at the fact. Not as soon as I said it did I realize that counted as a question.

Crap. Did I say that out loud? By the look of Vice's face, I would say that's a yes. "Because, Dearest Firen. You are too embarrassed to answer any of my questions. Although... I am learning a bit myself." He said with a cheese eating grin. "Like how you have a beauty mark right next to your bellybutton." He said. His eyes kept wandering off my face to other places. I sat at the top of my bed by my pillows, with my legs pulled to my chest. Vice was midway on the bed, facing me. I was the one in underwear only, and he was fully dressed. I had to get him back...but how?

"My turn." Vice's face went dark again. "Now. How did you and your ex meet?" Frankly, I didn't want to think of that because there were bad memories that went along with it. But should I answer? I only had my bra and panties left. Thank goodness I decided to get a matching pair. Before I had time to debate it, Vice yelled "Time's up!" with a grin.

"What?! There's a time limit?" I said stunned. "You can't hesitate on truth. It's either truth or strip. Now which will you choose? Or..." he moved closer to me with slickness, like a damn panther on the prowl. His index finger lifted my bra strap. "Would you rather me choose?" his mischievous aura had returned. Those glistening white teeth shown bright had my attention drawn to his inviting mouth, it had me catching my breath I didn't realize was quickening.

Either one I choose, I'm sure he'd be satisfied. So what was the point in making the decision myself? "You choose." I said quietly. His eyes went smoky. Sadly, this bra was made with many clasps that held it together in the back. And each one he undid slowly, making me that much more anxious with each clicking sound. You had to appreciate the extra clasps for boobs support, but damn it if it didn't make times like these spike my anxiousness. For some unknown reason, between each clasp, he would run his fingers somewhere else, than continue his unclamping. Two more clasps...his fingers were between cold and cool slid down the length of my spine, making me arch instinctively. One more clasp... Why did he undo them so slowly?