The alcohol flowed and the music was good enough to make the dancefloor crowded. As luck would have it, there was just the right mix of costumes in the room for Ryan to take part in an impromptu tribute band when YMCA by The Village People came on. Somebody even loaned him a fake moustache for the song.
I was feeling pretty happy by the time the dancefloor started to thin out a bit, taking advantage of the occasional slow song to snuggle up to Ryan and just sway a bit to catch our breath between the more energetic numbers. His hand was on my lower back, hovering precariously close to my ass when he bent down and whispered in my ear.
“Let’s go back to your room,” he said.
“Lose the moustache and you’ve got a deal.”
Ryan peeled it off and flung it over his shoulder without even looking behind him. That was the last I saw of it. We left with our arms around each other’s waists and headed for the elevator.
We passed more peculiar pairings than ourselves on the way, but it was still difficult to shake the bizarre notion of me, an undercover cop, getting taken back to my room for what was no-doubt going to be yet another intense orgasm by the man I was supposed to be investigating… dressed as a cop. That didn’t stop me from wrapping my legs around him when he lifted me off the ground after the door to my room closed behind us, though.
As we kissed, I knocked his hat off his head and ran my fingers through his hair. He gripped my ass tight and lowered us down on to my bed.
“Ma’am, for crimes against fashion and music, I’m gonna have to take you into custody.”
“You’ll never take me alive, copper,” I said.
“You’re a feisty little diva, I’m gonna have to teach you to respect the law.”
I bit my bottom lip as Ryan reached for his handcuffs and overwhelmed my token resistance to secure my wrists to the headboard above me. The handcuffs rattled against the metal bars as Ryan’s hands slid down my arms, caressing the sides of my breasts before coming to a stop just over my hips.
“The Keytar isn’t a crime, man!” I said, wriggling as his fingertips slipped under my shirt and traced lightly on my skin towards my breasts.
“That’s for the courts to decide. You hiding anything on your person that I might find interesting, young lady?”
His hands reached my chest and I arched up against him, squashing myself against his palms. My nipples hardened inside my bra and Ryan gave me a playful two-handed squeeze.
“Hmmm… what do we have here?” he said.
Ryan pulled his hands out and gripped my shirt at the collar. With a sudden yank, he ripped the old material right down the middle, revealing my more modern underwear.
“Did you know it’s a crime in this state to cover up a sexy body like this, ma’am?”
“Look who’s talking.”
Ryan smiled and pushed his hips forward, grinding himself between my legs and leaving me in no doubt that things had taken a turn for the hard down there. His fingers traversed down my chest, across my belly, then rose up to his shirt.
With each button he undid, he revealed more of his lean and muscular torso. The handcuffs rattled again as I forgot myself for a second, and tried to reach for him so I could feel the hard curves of his body the way he had felt my soft ones.
“You’re in a whole heap of trouble, miss.”
“I have a license for that synthesizer.”
Ryan shrugged off his shirt. I had my legs gripped around his waist, and tried to make him fall forward so I could kiss that inked masculine perfection. I loved the way it felt when I licked his body and my tongue slipped into the grooves created by his abs. It was like a sexy maze to navigate.
Unfortunately, this time it seemed Ryan had other plans. He planted his hands on either side of my pillow, stopping himself from falling into as my tongue’s domain. He pushed his swollen bulge against my sex through my panties again and I sighed happily, bucking my hips a little.
Regaining his balance, Ryan reached behind my back for the clasp of my bra, and I arched again to give him easier access. When he snapped his fingers, I felt the instant relief as the underwire released me.
He ran his fingertips along the line where it had hugged me so tightly, loosening it further, before gathering it and my ruined two-dollar shirt into his grip and pushing them both up over my head. With me secured to the headboard as I was, he couldn’t get them completely off, but it was good enough to leave my upper body completely exposed to anything he wanted to do to me.
I was forced to unhook my ankles from behind him, so he could move back slightly and bring his mouth to each of my nipples in turn, squeezing and kneading my breasts appreciatively at the same time. When he turned his attention to one, the cool air on his saliva teased the other nipple erect, until every touch of his tongue, lips and fingers had me straining and writhing against my restraints.