Made Her My Plaything For The Night

The fairy lights strung across my balcony twinkled like stars, casting a warm glow over the wicker furniture as the summer night hummed with jasmine and possibility. Ellie, my childhood friend, lounged across from me, her freckled cheeks flushed from our third bottle of rosé. We’d been laughing for hours, reminiscing about teenage summers—sneaking beers, skinny-dipping in the lake, whispering secrets under blankets. But tonight, her hazel eyes lingered on mine, her bare foot brushing my ankle under the table, sending a jolt through me that wasn’t just nostalgia.

“You’re staring, Claire,” Ellie teased, her voice a playful lilt as she swirled her wine glass, the liquid catching the light. “What’s that look for?”

I smirked, the wine loosening my edges, making me bold. “Just thinking you’re still the same troublemaker who got us caught stealing Mrs. Carter’s apples.”

She laughed, her head tilting back, exposing the soft curve of her neck. “And you’re still the one who dared me. Takes one to know one.” Her foot nudged mine again, deliberate this time, her eyes glinting with something new—something dangerous.

“Wanna make new trouble?” I asked, my voice low, the air between us thickening. She leaned forward, her tank top slipping to reveal a hint of cleavage, and my pulse quickened.

“Depends,” she said, her lips curling. “What kind you got in mind?”

I stood, grabbing her hand, the warmth of her skin electric. “Come inside. I’ve got an idea.” 

My heart pounded as I led her into my loft, the wine and her closeness making my head spin. The bedroom was dimly lit, the bedside lamp casting soft shadows over deep blue sheets. I pulled a wooden box from under the bed, revealing silk ropes I’d bought on a whim months ago, never expecting to use them like this. Ellie’s eyes widened, but a sly smile spread across her face.

“Kinky, Claire,” she said, stepping closer, her breath brushing my cheek. “You planning to tie me up?”

“Only if you’re game,” I replied, holding her gaze. “Are you?”

She nodded, her lips parting. “Do whatever you want.”

That was all I needed. I kissed her, slow at first, her lips soft and tasting of rosé, then deeper, hungrier, as she pressed herself against me. My hands roamed her body, tugging her tank top over her head, revealing freckled breasts, nipples already hard. I pushed her gently onto the bed, binding her wrists with the silk ropes, securing them to the headboard. Her body arched, vulnerable and breathtaking, her breath hitching as I straddled her hips.

“Ellie, you’re gorgeous,” I murmured, my fingers trailing down her chest, unhooking her shorts. I slid them off with her panties, exposing her glistening pussy, her thighs trembling slightly. “So fucking wet,” I said, my voice thick with desire as I spread her legs, settling between them.

“Please, Claire,” she whispered, her voice raw, needy. I leaned down, my tongue flicking over her clit, slow and teasing, savoring her sharp gasp. Her taste was intoxicating—sweet, musky—and I dove in, licking her pussy with long, deliberate strokes, my hands gripping her thighs to keep her still. “Oh, God, yes,” she moaned, her voice breaking as I sucked harder, my fingers slipping inside her, curling to hit that perfect spot. Her hips bucked against the ropes, her moans filling the room, raw and unfiltered.

“Are you enjoying it?” I teased, pulling back to watch her writhe, her wrists straining against the silk, her freckled skin flushed. “Tell me what you want, Ellie.”

“Spank me,” she gasped, her eyes dark with need. “Please, Claire.” I flipped her onto her stomach, her bound hands twisting above her, her ass round and inviting. I brought my hand down, the slap sharp against her skin, leaving a pink handprint that made my own pussy throb. She gasped, a mix of pain and pleasure, her body arching. “Harder,” she begged, and I spanked her again, then again, each strike drawing a moan, her skin glowing under the lamp’s light.

“You’re mine tonight,” I said, leaning over her, my breasts pressing against her back, my lips brushing her ear. I wrapped my fingers around her throat, not tight, just enough to feel her pulse racing under my thumb, her breath catching. “You want me, too, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” she whimpered, her voice muffled against the pillow as I tightened my grip slightly, my other hand sliding between her legs, rubbing her clit in slow, torturous circles. “Don’t stop, Claire, please.”

I didn’t. My tongue found her pussy again, licking her relentlessly, my fingers still on her throat, controlling her breath just enough to make her dizzy. Her moans turned to cries, her body shaking as she came, her pussy clenching, her release soaking my lips and chin. 

“Good girl,” I whispered, kissing her spine as she shuddered beneath me, her breath ragged.

I untied her wrists, and she turned, her eyes wild, pulling me into a messy, desperate kiss. 

“My turn,” she growled, her hands tugging at my dress, stripping it off in one swift motion. She pushed me onto my back, her mouth finding my nipples, sucking hard as I gasped, my fingers tangling in her hair. “You taste so fucking good,” she murmured, her tongue trailing down my stomach, settling between my thighs. She licked my pussy with a hunger that made my toes curl, her fingers sliding inside me, matching the rhythm of her tongue, fast and relentless.

“Ellie, fuck,” I moaned, my hips grinding against her face, her freckled nose buried in me. 

“Just like that.” When her free hand reached up, her fingers wrapping lightly around my throat, the pressure perfect, I lost it. The pleasure built, sharp and overwhelming, and I came hard, my climax tearing through me as I cried her name, my voice echoing off the walls.

We collapsed, tangled in each other, our breaths heavy. “Holy shit, Ellie,” I panted, brushing a strand of hair from her sweaty forehead. “Where the hell did that come from?”

She grinned, her lips swollen, her eyes still burning. “Years of wanting you, Claire. Should’ve done this sooner.”

I laughed, pulling her close, our bodies still humming. “The night is young. Wanna go again?”

Her fingers traced my collarbone, her smile wicked. “Oh, I’m not done being your plaything yet.”