Page 5

Playground

C herrie has spent the day preparing. She knows Azazel loves seeing her dressed up, so she took extra care with her appearance, knowing their dates often end with her clothes torn and ruined.

Her hair is curled, falling softly around her shoulders, and her makeup is flawless, with bold red lips that beg to be kissed, or bitten. She slides into a figure-hugging, red dress that accentuates her curves; the fabric feeling sensual against her bare skin. She knows Azazel will appreciate the effort, and the thought of his hands roaming over her body, tearing at the delicate material, sends a shiver of anticipation through her.

Azazel, always the dapper gentleman, wears a tailored, black suit that compliments his muscular frame. His short, black hair is sleek, and his eyes glitter with anticipation and a hint of madness. He finishes his look with a splash of cologne–the scent designed to intoxicate and entice.

They meet in a dimly lit, secluded upscale bar, a place they have chosen for its privacy and ambiance. The air is heavy with the scent of expensive liquor and the promise of sin. They sit close together, their bodies already buzzing with anticipation, and their legs entwined under the table.

As they drink and converse, the tension between them builds. Azazel reaches for Cherrie's hand, his thumb stroking over her delicate skin. His touch is both loving, and possessive. Cherrie smiles, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She brings her glass to her lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip as her eyes remain locked on Azazel's. She knows how to play this game–how to push his buttons and inflame his desire.

"I've been thinking about you all day, and I’ve missed your honey scent with that hint of cocoa," Azazel murmurs, his deep voice sending a shiver down Cherrie's spine. "Thinking about all the things I want to do to you."

Cherrie licks her lips with a sultry smile playing at the edges of her mouth. "Oh yeah? And what kinds of things are those?"

Azazel leans closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Dirty things. Painful things. I want to mark that perfect body of yours, leave my fingerprints on your soft skin." Cherrie's breath quickens as a rush of desire washes over her. She loves how Azazel makes her feel so wanted, so cherished.

"And what if I want to leave my mark on you?" she teases, running her hand up his thigh, feeling the hard muscle beneath the fine fabric of his trousers.

Azazel's eyes darken, and he grasps her hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. "Then may the biggest dick win."

With that, he stands, tossing a handful of bills onto the table. Cherrie rises, following his lead as her body buzzes with excitement. They step out into the night, the cool air a contrast to the heat simmering between them. They begin to walk, heading towards a secluded part of the city, where deserted warehouses and abandoned lots provide the perfect backdrop for their deviant desires.

As they walk, Azazel takes Cherrie's hand, their fingers intertwining with a silent promise of what’s to come. They quicken their pace, their footsteps echoing against the empty streets while their hearts race with anticipation. Without warning, Azazel pulls Cherrie into an alley, pressing her against the cold, brick wall. He cages her in with his arms, his eyes burning with intensity.

"I can't wait any longer," he growls, claiming her mouth in a hungry kiss. Cherrie moans, opening her mouth to his, their tongues dueling feverishly. Azazel's hands roam over her body, slipping under her dress to grasp her soft, round ass before squeezing tightly.

Cherrie grinds her body against him, feeling his hardness against her belly. With a swift movement, Azazel lifts her, pressing her back against the wall, her legs wrapping around his waist. She can feel his arousal throbbing against her core, and she gasps out as he enters her in one swift stroke.

They move as one, their mouths fused together, and their breaths coming in short, sharp bursts. Azazel's hands grip her thighs, holding her in place as he thrusts into her, their bodies slapping against the wall with each frantic push. Cherrie's nails dig into Azazel's shoulders, scratching down his back, marking him as her own. He groans, his rhythm becoming more urgent as his control slips and he surrenders to the pleasure. "Fuck, Cherrie," he pants, his eyes screwing shut as he sought release.

Cherrie tightens her legs around him, her head dropping back in pleasure, and her breasts heaving with each passionate breath. "Azazel, I'm close," she whispers, her voice hoarse with need. As if on cue, Azazel quickens his pace, his hips slamming against hers, their bodies a tangle of feverish need.

With a final, powerful thrust, they find their release, crying out in unison as pleasure washes over them. Azazel bites down on Cherrie's neck, marking her as she scratches his back, drawing blood. Their cries echo off the walls, a symphony of lust and lunacy.

As their bodies calm, Azazel lowers Cherrie to the ground, their legs weak from the intensity of their passion. They stand in the darkness, chests heaving, and lips swollen from their passionate kisses. Azazel brushes a stray lock of hair from Cherrie's face, his eyes soft with affection, a stark contrast to the violence of their coupling.

Cherrie smiles, her eyes glittering in the moonlight. "That was quite the dessert. Now, let's see what else the night has in store for us."

****

The city's warehouse district is like a ghost town. It’s the perfect setting for Azazel and Cherrie's date night. As they wander through the deserted streets, the neon lights of the abandoned funhouse beckons them. The faded sign, still alight after all these years, reads "Step Right Up" and the distorted laughter of a clown echoes through the darkness, adding to the eerie atmosphere.

"This place is perfect," Cherrie says enthusiastically. "It's like a twisted playground just waiting for us."

Azazel, always up for a new adventure, especially one that involves his beautiful partner, follows her lead. "What do you have planned for us, my dear? Another one of your brilliantly insane ideas, I presume?"

She turns to him, her face illuminated by the flickering neon lighting, and smiles. "Oh yes, my love. Tonight, we play a little game. Each room we enter will present a new challenge, a new opportunity for us to explore our deepest, darkest desires."

Azazel's eyes darken with anticipation. "Lead the way, my twisted queen. I'm eager to see what delights you have in store for me." Hand in hand, they step into the funhouse, the entrance creaking closed behind them.

The first room they enter is a maze of mirrors, the reflections distorting their bodies and creating an endless array of distorted images. Cherrie giggles as she watches their figures stretch and contort, her eyes lighting up at the endless possibilities.

“Baby girl, your blind ass is going to lose against these mirrors and gain an injury.” Azazel jokes.

“Then you can fix me all up, or fuck me up even more." Cherrie giggles.

“Babe, I don’t think you can get more fucked up than that pretty, little head of yours already is.”

“Come on, let's play a game of hide-and-seek," she proposes, her voice echoing in the small space. "I'll give you a head start and then I'll come find you. Then you fuck me; no negotiations." Azazel's heart races at the thought of being hunted by his woman.

He knows there will be a reward with pain and pleasure intertwined. "How will I know when you're close?" he asks, his voice lacing with anticipation.

"Oh, you'll know," she purrs, pressing a button on a small remote she holds in her hand. "I have a little vibrator here that will only activate when in close range. And when I find you, well…let's just say, I have a few tricks up my sleeve." Cherrie hands Azazel a small vibrator for him to hold during their game.

Azazel's dick twitches as he imagines what those tricks might be. He steps into the maze, his heart pounding with exhilaration. The game begins, and he weaves his way through the mirrors, catching glimpses of his tall, muscular frame and Cherrie's curvy figure in the distorted reflections. As he turns a corner, he feels the vibrator come to life, a soft buzz against his palm. He knows she’s getting closer, and his breath quickens. Then, he hears her voice somewhere to his left, soft and seductive.

"I can feel you, Azazel. I bet your heart is racing. Are you excited, my love?"

"Fuck yes," he whispers, his voice hoarse with anticipation. "But you'll have to find me first." Laughter echoes through the maze, sending shivers down his spine. The vibrator intensifies, and he knows she’s growing closer. Too close. He quickens his pace, taking a sharp turn, only to find himself face-to-face with his own reflection. The mirrored walls reveal his every angle, and he spots her just as she emerges from the corner, a wicked smile crossing her face.

"Gotcha," Cherrie says as she runs into a mirror. “Ouch.” She groans, pressing a button on the remote.

Azazel giggles. “My poor, little demon.” He kisses Cherrie’s forehead.

Cherrie grabs Azazel’s belt and pulls him closer. Azazel's body stiffens as the vibrator pulses against his sensitive skin. He’s trapped, and they both know it. Cherrie takes her time, strolling towards him, her eyes never leaving his.

"Now, my love, back to your reward." She presses another button, and Azazel cries out as the vibrator pulses in a different rhythm, more intense and relentless. His eyes roll back in pleasure and pain as Cherrie brushes her lips against his ear. "I'm going to make you beg for mercy," she whispers, her hot breath sending shivers down his spine.

"Please, Cherrie." He manages to gasp. "I can't take much more."

"Oh, but you will," she promises, her fingers trailing down his chest. "Because I'm not done with you, yet." Cherrie presses another button, and the vibrator stops abruptly, leaving Azazel panting and dizzy. She takes his hand, leading him out of the maze and into the next room. This one is filled with oversized furniture, making them feel like children in a giant's playroom. "Now," she says, turning to him with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Belt off and kneel. It's time for me to have a little fun." Cherrie wraps the belt around Azazel’s throat and struts over to a massive chair, the legs of which are as tall as she is. She climbs onto it, her short dress riding up her thighs, revealing her toned legs and a hint of lace underwear. "Come closer, my pet," she calls to Azazel, slightly tugging at the belt and patting her thigh.

He crawls forward, his body still humming with the after effects of the vibrator, and lowers himself on all fours between her legs. Cherrie leans forward, her breasts pressing against his chest, and whispers in his ear, "I want you to worship me, Azazel. Make me feel like a queen." Azazel doesn’t need to be told twice.

Still on his knees, his mouth finds the sensitive spot where her thigh meets her lace-covered pussy. He breathes in her scent, his tongue darting out to taste her as she moans above him. His hands gripped her thighs, squeezing the soft flesh as he pulled her closer, his tongue dancing and flicking over her clit.

"Yes… There..." she moans, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Right there, my love. Oh, fuck, that feels so good." Azazel sucks her clit into his mouth, his tongue teasing and tormenting her as she squirms above him. Her hips buck uncontrollably, riding his face while he continues to pleasure her.

"That's it… That's it." She gasps, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. "Don't… Stop." Azazel doesn’t intend to. He wants to drive her wild, to make her cum so hard she’ll scream his name. His tongue works furiously, his lips sucking and kissing their way up to her core as his four fingers slip inside her dripping pussy. Cherrie cries out, her nails digging into his scalp and pulling tighter on the belt as her orgasm hits her like a freight train.

"Azazel! Oh my God!" she yells, her body shaking uncontrollably. "Don't stop, please, don't stop!" He smiles against her pussy, feeling her juices flow as her orgasm washes over her. He keeps licking and sucking, milking every last drop of pleasure from her. Slowly, her body stops trembling, and she slumps back in the chair, breathless and spent. "That… That was incredible." She manages to gasp, her eyes hooded with satisfaction.

Azazel stands "We're not done yet," he promises, his voice deep and husky. "I plan to make you cum over and over again tonight." Cherrie returns his smile, her eyes flashing with excitement.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's see what the next room has in store." Hand in hand, they step further into the twisted funhouse, eager to uncover more secrets and explore their dark, erotic delights. Their night has only just begun, and Azazel decides to up the ante. He wants to push Cherrie's senses to the limit.

"Baby, I have something that will make this even more fun," Azazel whispers, his hot breath tickling Cherrie's ear. He has her cornered in a secluded part of the maze, taking advantage of a momentary lapse in her focus. With a swift movement, he produces a silk blindfold from his pocket and holds it up for her to see. "I want you to rely on your other senses to find me. No peeking."

Cherrie bites her lip, her heart racing at the thought of being blindfolded in the maze of mirrors. She knows how much Azazel loves to watch her squirm, and the idea of being at his mercy, sends a shiver down her spine. "Okay, but you have to promise to make it worth my while," she says with a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

"Oh, don’t I always?" Azazel replies, his voice dripping with dark promises.

He gently ties the blindfold around her eyes, making sure it’s secure. The world darkens for Cherrie, and she feels a momentary pang of anxiety. But it quickly transforms into arousal once she realizes how vulnerable and exposed this makes her feel. She can hear her own breath, loud and ragged, and the faint, distant sounds of the city outside.

“You look so fucking sexy like this; all mine and willing to play my games," Azazel murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. He takes her hand and places a small, vibrating egg in her palm. "Now, this is your little guide. It will lead you to me. But remember, I control the intensity. So, be a good girl and try to find me before I make you cum."

Cherrie's mouth goes dry as she realizes the challenge Azazel has set for her. She feels the vibration in her hand, a teasing buzz that will be her only guide through this labyrinth of pleasure and pain. "Az, you're a cruel, cruel man," she says, her voice lacing with desire.

"That's why you love me, Cherrie Mine," he purrs, using one of his pet names for her. Then, without another word, he lets go of her hand and drifts further into the darkness, leaving her alone and blindfolded in the heart of the funhouse.

Cherrie stands still for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She feels the vibration in her hand, a gentle hum that was both tantalizing and frustrating. Cherrie placed the vibrator against her clit, allowing the thin material of her panties to hold the device in place and moans softly. With a steady breath, she begins to move, slowly at first, her hands outstretched to avoid walking into a wall of mirrors again. She feels the cool glass under her fingertips, guiding her forward.

Azazel, meanwhile, watches her from the shadows, a sly smile on his face. He loves seeing her like this. Blind and unaware of her surroundings, completely at his mercy. He adjusts the remote in his hand, increasing the vibration slightly, and watches as Cherrie's body reacts instantly.

She gasps, her breasts heaving, and her fingers curling into fists. "Az, what are you doing?" she calls out, her voice echoing in the maze.

"Shhh, Cherrie, Baby. Just follow the vibe and you'll find me," he replies, his voice coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Cherrie bites her lip, determined to find him. She moves forward, more confidently this time. She can feel her pussy getting wetter by the second.

Azazel increases the intensity again, and Cherrie's movements become more frantic.

She can feel her orgasm building, and she knows he’s toying with her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. "Please, Az… I need..." she trails off, not sure how to finish her sentence.

"You need what, baby girl?" he asks, his voice suddenly very close, making her jump.

Cherrie spins around, her hands reaching out, and feels his solid chest under her palms. "I need you," she whispers, relief washing over her.

"That's my girl," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. Before Cherrie could react, she feels Azazel's strong arms grab her from behind, pulling her close against his hard body. He nuzzles his face into her neck, his breath hot on her skin, and reaches around to cup her swollen breasts. "You look so fucking sexy in this blindfold. All disoriented and horny. I could just bend you over right here and fuck you senseless."

Cherrie moans, her head falling back onto his shoulder as he pinches her nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers. "Please, Az… I need you inside me… now," she begs, her voice hoarse with need.

"As you wish, my cherry blossom," he whispers, his mouth curving into a satisfied smile. Azazel reaches for the fluffy cuffs he had hidden and swiftly brings Cherrie's wrists together behind her back, securing them with a satisfying click.

She tests the restraints, realizing she’s now completely at his mercy. A rush of excitement washes over her, knowing he could do whatever he wanted with her helpless body.

"That's right, baby. You're all mine now," Azazel growls, his lips brushing against her ear. He spins her around to face him and claims her mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue demanding entry. Cherrie moans into his mouth, her senses overwhelmed by his taste, his smell, and the feel of his hard body against hers. Azazel breaks the kiss and, taking her hand, begins to lead her through the funhouse. Cherrie, still blindfolded and cuffed, has to rely on his guidance, her trust in him unwavering. He leads her up a flight of stairs, her high heels clicking on the metal steps, and then down a narrow corridor, the air growing cooler as they go.

"Where are you taking me, Az?" she asks, her voice laced with anticipation.

"You'll see, or rather, feel , soon enough," he replies, a playful tone in his voice. Cherrie feels a change in the air, a slight breeze brushing against her skin, and then she realizes they have stepped outside, under the night sky.

"Oh God, Az. Showing me to the stars tonight?" she asks with a mixture of fear and excitement in her voice.

“And every night. I want you to feel the night air against your skin; the thrill of being watched. It's just you, me, and the stars." Cherrie shivers as she imagines eyes on her, Azazel's possessive gaze roaming over her body, appraising her like a prize.

She feels like a sacrificial offering, ripe for the taking, and it sends a jolt of arousal straight to her core. Azazel leads her further, his hand firm on her wrist. She feels the gravel under her feet and the night breeze playing with her hair. Then, suddenly, he stops and reaches for the blindfold, slowly pulling it away from her eyes.

Cherrie blinks, adjusting to the moonlight. They reach a secluded spot on the edge of the warehouse district. Before her, stands an old, rusted carnival ride, a spinning teacup with faded paint and torn cushions. It looks eerie and inviting all at once. "Our own private carnival ride, baby. I thought we could take it for a spin, just you and me, going round and round until we're dizzy with pleasure."

Cherrie's pussy clenches at the image his words invoked. She imagines them fucking in the spinning teacup, the world blurring around them as they reach new heights of ecstasy. Azazel, as if reading her mind, reaches for the remote and increases the vibration again, making Cherrie cry out and grind her hips instinctively. "God, Az, don't stop," she pleads, her eyes fluttering closed as the buzzing toy sends waves of pleasure through her body.

"Get in, baby," he instructs, his voice hoarse with need. Cherrie does as she’s told, stepping into the teacup and sinking into the cushions. Azazel joins her, his body fitting perfectly against hers as he pulls her onto his lap. He reaches for the vibrating egg, teasing her clit through her soaked panties.

"You're so wet, Cherry Pie. Did the game make you this horny? Or was it the thought of being tied up and at my mercy?" he asks, nipping at her earlobe.

"It's always you, Az." She pants, her head falling back as his fingers work their magic. "It's always you that makes me this way." With a swift movement, he rips her panties aside, the fabric tearing easily, and teases his fingers through her slick folds.

"Damn, you're so ready for me." He moans, positioning himself at her entrance. Cherrie nods, desperate for him to fill her.

"Now, Az, please now," she begs, her hips bucking against his. Azazel obliges, sheathing himself inside her in one smooth thrust. Cherrie cries out, her back arching as he fills her completely. "Fuck, baby, you feel so good," Azazel groans, his hands gripping her thighs as he begins to move, slow and deep.

The teacup starts to spin, a soft creaking accompanying the movement as the old ride comes to life. Cherrie gasps as the vibrations from the toy, combined with the motion of the ride, sends her senses spiraling. "Oh God, Az, you feel so, so good," she pants, her nails digging into his shoulders as she clings to him. Azazel starts to move faster, his hips slamming into hers in rhythm with the spinning ride. The vibrations from the toy intensify, and Cherrie’s orgasm starts to build; a tidal wave of pleasure ready to crash over her.

"Get on your knees," he orders. Cherrie obeys without hesitation, kneeling before him as he stands tall. "That's it, baby," he murmurs, his thumb stroking over her jawline. "You look so beautiful like this…so willing to take whatever I give you." Cherrie whimpers, her pussy dripping with need. Azazel starts to stroke his thick and veiny dick, her eyes locking on it as her mouth waters, and she imagines it stretching her pussy to the limit.

"Suck it," he orders, his voice harsh. "Show me how much you want it." Without hesitation, Cherrie leans forward, taking his dick into her mouth. She swirls her tongue around the head, tasting the first drops of pre-cum, then takes him deeper, moaning in pleasure as she bobs her head. "That's it, Cherry Pie," he groans, his breath coming in sharp rasps. "Take it all. Fuck, your mouth is made for my dick."

As Cherrie continues to suck him off, Azazel reaches down and tugs the belt tighter around her neck, controlling her movements, reminding her who’s in charge. Cherrie moans in delight, the sound vibrating around his shaft as her pussy throbs and her nipples pebble to hard and aching points.

But Azazel isn’t done, yet. He reaches and grabs the belt, pulling Cherrie to her feet. He spins her around so that she’s facing away from him, then bends her over. Cherrie's pussy is exposed, glistening and ready for him. Without warning, Azazel brings the belt down on her ass, the leather smacking against her flesh. Cherrie cries out, the sting of pain blending with pleasure as the sensation shoots through her body.

"You like that, don't you?" Azazel growls, landing another smack, this time on her upper thighs, dangerously close to her pussy. "You like being punished?"

"Yes!" Cherrie screams, her body aching for more. "I love it, Az! Please, don't stop!" Driven wild by her cries, Azazel delivers a flurry of blows. The belt lands against her ass, thighs, and the backs of her legs. Cherrie's pussy drips, the sensations overwhelming her, her body on fire with need. With one swift thrust, he buries himself balls-deep inside her soaking, wet pussy. Cherrie screams, her body stretching to the limit as he fills her completely. Azazel grabs her hips, pulling her back onto him as he begins moving, his dick sliding in and out of her pussy in a relentless rhythm. Cherrie cries out with each thrust.

"You feel so fucking good, Cherry Pie," Azazel grunts, his hands squeezing her hips roughly.

"Yes, Az, yes!" Cherrie screams.

Azazel's hands tangle in her hair, guiding her movements as he thrusts his hips, fucking her tight pussy. Cherrie’s eyes water at the sensation of being so completely owned. "Come for me, baby," Azazel growls, his teeth grazing her neck. "Let me feel you cum around my dick." And Cherrie does. With a strangled cry, she surrenders to the most intense orgasm she’s ever experienced, her body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her. She feels Azazel's fingers dig into her thighs as he follows her over the edge, his own release claiming him as he fills her with his hot cum.

The teacup continues to spin, slower now, mirroring the pace of their hearts as they come down from their euphoric highs. Cherrie rests her head on Azazel's shoulder, her eyes closing as she basks in the afterglow.

For a moment, they stay joined together, their breathing heavy and their hearts pounding. Then, slowly, Azazel withdraws, his dick slick with their combined juices. Cherrie whimpers at the loss, her pussy throbbing gently."That… was..." she trails off, unable to find the words to describe what had just transpired.

"I know, baby," Azazel replies, his lips brushing her forehead. "That pussy drives me crazy every time.”

“It drives you crazier; you’ve always been crazy,” Cherrie responds.

Azazel and Cherrie step out of the abandoned funhouse, their bodies still tingling from the intense orgasms they’d shared. The night air is cool on their heated skin as they make their way towards the car to find the nearest hotel to end their night.