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Kiro: Just a Taste

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My phone had been buzzing happily in the two days since Kiro had gotten back from his latest tour. Mostly it had been teasing pictures of the amazing things he’d seen while exploring in his short hours of free time and me expressing my abject jealousy of the amazing experiences he’d sent me or uploaded to social media. It had been a whirlwind, half surprise pop up concerts and half once-in-a-lifetime meet and greets for Japanese fans who’d put out “small wishes” on his facebook fan page.

I’d put my own small wish forward, a comment tucked away amongst thousands of others. “You better bring me back some weird chips from Japan!” This morning he’d texted telling me to come see him and I was one of the lucky winners. I’d snorted reading it while brushing my teeth. After all, we were basically best friends, maybe something more. I had to be the luckiest girl in the universe. It wasn’t totally fair for me to win a facebook contest too. It was a good thing, I reminded myself, that his true fans had all been rewarded and now I was probably just going to be treated to some gossip and snacks.

Now I waited in his dressing room at B.S. Entertainment. He’d had a moment to greet me before he’d been ushered off by his agent for “just a sec!” with an apologetic smile but that was okay. He was busy, I was busy, and we had quick hang out sessions often enough that I was okay making myself comfortable in his dressing room by now.

I slipped my pumps off by the door and slipped into the soft white house shoes that Kiro kept under the shoe cubby that just happened to be my size. In front of me was a large sofa. It was long, made of black leather with electric yellow accents and bright blue stitching along the edges. I’d laughed the first time I saw it, a pop of audacity in the otherwise monochrome room. I remember Kiro’s grin when I’d turned and asked him if he’d named it Dory. There had been something brewing in his cerulean eyes, playful and malicious. I could see the cogs of revenge working out the perfect punishment for my mockery of his interior decorating tastes.

I giggled when I sank into the couch. The rest of the room was displays of his awards, some autographed photos of him and his own entertainment idols, and amazing photography of his favorite concerts and artists. Along the back wall was his dressing room table, touch up makeup splayed across it, men’s cologne options set along the back. They were all brands I knew intimately from our time together, they all smelled amazing, and they were all pricey. I wasn’t surprised to find that he and Victor wore some of the same brands, though it seemed like Victor gravitated to heavier, earthier scents, while Kiro’s repertoire was salt and citrus. Sunny, just like him.

As I settled in and waited for him to return, my legs tucked under me on the sofa, and spotted something small sitting on the leather at the other end. It was a small spiralbound photo album, the kind you pick up at the 99 cent store with cheap stock photo of florals or beaches on the front and enough space for 20 pictures or so, more if you were creative. I wasn’t surprised to see that Kiro used it well. Many of the pages were dedicated to single snapshots he’d taken with his good camera, a few pages had multiple images from his Instax placed side by side. I smiled. These were perspectives and shots that I hadn’t seen - more intimate than what he shared with the public and better quality and more thought out than what he’d snapped with his cell phone.

I loved when I could see the rest of the world through his eyes. As I flipped through the pictures, analyzing and drinking up every detail in the images, I found myself wistfully thinking it would be amazing if I could travel the world together with him. It was a frequent fantasy, a life where we were partners in crime, Kiro spreading his cheer, his music, his talent all while I expanded the reach of my production company and told stories of people and places that seemed so out of reach for the people here in Loveland.

My fingers flipped more slowly as I went on, wanting to dive into the images and build that image of a romantic, perfect future. As I took in the last ripples on the water of a lush hot spring, I flipped a photo and landed on… something unexpected.

In the photo, a gorgeous model was laid across a table that looked remarkably similar to the one in front of me. Her back arched in such a way that her stomach was flat with her thighs, her breasts small and perfect and out of the way as she languidly stared at the camera, her arms above her head. Along her body was a selection of decadent finger food. Finely crafted sandwiches, fruit tarts, cakes, pastries, and even perfect miniature puffy cheesecakes adorned with strawberry hearts were placed strategically along her perfect skin. Her face didn’t show any emotion, just calm contentment. In the images were a few arms reaching for snacks. Only because I knew his watch did I recognize Kiro’s agent furtively sneaking a watercress sandwich embellished with a cucumber carved into a perfect representation of B.S. Entertainment’s logo from off a thigh.

As my eyes followed the line of the man’s hand past the sandwich I saw the model was completely nude… and freshly shaven. Immediately my face burned as a blush took over. I closed the book, my finger marking my place without really thinking about it. After a moment, curiosity got the better of me. I slowly opened the book again and confronted the photo.

I blinked hard, seeing the full image and not just the details for the first time. I don’t know how I missed it the first time, but there was Kiro, reaching his fingers towards a small cake balancing perfectly between the model’s breasts. I felt… weird? I was shocked, yes, amused, maybe, curious, certainly, jealous? I didn’t acknowledge it. I went back to the details, Kiro’s face seemed to be trained on the food. He didn’t look embarrassed at all, just… hungry? Was it his Evol? Even in an image I couldn’t imagine finding any fault in him at all.

I looked back at the model. How would I feel if I were in her shoes? Surrounded by men literally feasting off me, using me as nothing more than a tray for their entertainment? Would I feel scared? Ashamed? She didn’t look like she felt any of those things. She just felt like she was… there. Would she… feel differently if it were just Kiro? I was lost in thought, wondering if Kiro had just been pulled along into this as part of rubbing elbows with people in the entertainment industry during the tour, if he was focused on the food to not make a fuss and get it over with, or if this was something he had really enjoyed when suddenly I heard the door open behind me. I flung the photobook away, back towards the end of the couch that I’d confiscated it from.

Kiro walked in, grinning, holding a paper sack in one hand. My confusion and racing thoughts washed away, refreshed as they always were when we got to spend time together without rushing and deadlines, but the burning on my face decided to stick around.

“Whoa, are you okay? Did something happen?” he asked in a low, gentle voice as he walked towards me, not bothering to take his shoes off in his hurry. Unlike Gavin or even Victor who seemed to immediately need to check my forehead for a fever whenever I got embarrassed, Kiro knew it was emotional. His eyes flickered from my face to my phone on the table. The screen was lit up, but we could both see it was a few emails and a notification of a new headline from the city news.

“Ah, no….”I said, stumbling over my thoughts. I smiled brightly. If I just ignored the fact that I was red as a beet and looked every bit like I’d been caught red handed in the greatest drama of my life, he would ignore it too?

“Are you su…” Kiro started to ask. His voice trailed off as his eyes swept from the phone to my face to scan the room. There was more going on in that mind than candy, chips, and poetry, for sure, but I didn’t have time to guess what because his eyes had stopped just past me.

“Ah.” he said. I turned my head, following his eyes to the photobook. It had landed away from me, pretty much in the same spot as it had been left. Except, where I’d held the pages open for so long, looking at illicit details, the ring binding had caught and the pages had remained open to that image. The food, the gorgeous model, the eager hands, Kiro; the source of my blushing face and the tension in the air were all captured in one perfect shot to explain absolutely everything to the sweetest man I’d ever met.

He moved past to sit between me and the photobook. As he passed I could smell that sunny citrus cologne and couldn’t help but feel warm, even beyond my embarrassment. He leaned forward and put the bag on the table, before leaning back and looking at me. He relaxed, putting his elbow along the back of the sofa. He was close, but somehow didn’t feel imposing. Kiro had that power. He could always get incredibly close without feeling like a monolith taking all my breath and thought away, like some other men. He felt like I fit just perfectly against him.

The tension felt like it might fade away… until he reached to the side and grabbed the book. He pulled it into his lap as his arm snaked over from where it had been draped against the back of the sofa before. It found my shoulder and his warm hand pulled me against him. With my legs tucked as they were, I toppled and he seemed to be able to slide me right where he wanted me, my head against his shoulder. We cuddled like this before, watching videos on his tablet, gossiping and critiquing, shit-talking like we were old friends. This felt different though. This felt more intimate. I wondered if it was because I was staring at such a salacious image.

“Looking at my pictures?” he asked. The tone wasn’t accusatory. “I can tell you more about them.” He flipped the book to the first page, as if what I’d stopped on wasn’t anything strange and started to describe the moment he left the airport and the statues that had been in the courtyard at his hotel. The first photo was a cat sleeping on a temple guardian that graced the front of that courtyard. He started to tell me how one of the crew tried to pet the cat and got attacked and I was sure it was going to be hilarious by the way the laughter in Kiro’s voice was barely bottled up in his throat. I stopped him. I wasn’t sure why I did it.

“I want to hear more about that,” I assured him when he looked down on me quizzically. “But I just… wanted.. To know…” My face was burning hot enough now that I was sure it was going to set fire to me, to the idol I was snuggling with and the entire room as well. Good lord, had we already died from the way my body was going to melt us all and this was just the last neuron firing stupidly into oblivion? If it was, I might as well face the void and jump. “The picture that was open when you came in. I found the book and I didn’t think it was going to be anything private, but there was that picture, and I don’t know if it was private at all. But like…” I squirmed for just a moment. “Is that something you… like, are into?”

Someone in high school told me it wasn’t a big deal for guys to hang out and watch porn together. I thought then that he was pulling me leg. I kind of still felt like he was lying about it, but there was that picture, and if Kiro was indulging in a fetish with a group of work associates then maybe my entire perception about privacy and men and sexuality had been wrong? It wasn’t like I’d thought much about it in my life, but still.

Kiro was chuckling, I wasn’t expecting that.

“Miss Chips! Are you jealous?” he teased with his normal boyish grin, but I somehow felt like he was looking at me more sharply than usual. His eyes bore a hole into mine, his brows furrowed a little sharply. If I didn’t know him, I’d have thought he looked like a bully. It was more extreme than when I’d teased him about his choice in upholstery.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “I was only interested in the food…” he paused and nuzzled right behind my ear. It felt more intimate than it was. A single brush of skin, but my breath caught in my throat and I could feel goosebumps spread down my arms as my hair stood on edge. “.. .but if it had been you, it would have been a different story.”

Was it just me or was he holding his breath now, waiting on my reaction? I looked at him with wide eyes.

“Did you just say?” I started to ask but my questions stopped short. Kiro couldn’t possibly think that way about me, could he? Sure, we’d spent time flirting while we’d been growing closer but it was all in good fun. It was friendly, wasn’t it? I hadn’t given him the wrong idea? I didn’t want to lead him on, but then again was it leading him on because I had to admit that I loved the way he managed to look effortlessly handsome, boyish but still very much a man. His humor and optimism, the way he could inspire me even with a wink or a wave. He was the man any woman would want in her life, there to support and cheer for you, to pull you to your feet when you fell, to protect you from danger but never stopped telling you that you were powerful and capable. I didn’t want to lead him on.

“Have you ever thought,” he asked quietly, his voice getting husky as if it were hovering just over a whisper, “that you’d like someone to look at you like you’re a beautiful work of art? The perfect piece of marble, a glass dish worked by a master, a tray made from the rarest wood, sanded and oiled and sitting on a table to show everyone who knew what to look for just how… perfect… you are?”

“That’s objectification,” I said, giggling nervously. What he was saying was exciting but I was still dazed from how surreal it all felt.

“Literally,” Kiro laughed back. “It’s interesting, I think, the way perception can change so easily.” His hand that wasn’t wrapped around my shoulders moved the photobook away and his fingertips swept along the hem of my sundress. He didn’t let his fingers touch my skin but the heavy ring on his thumb glided across my knee, a sudden chill of metal I hadn’t been expecting. “What one person just sees as an ordinary object, someone else might recognize as something utterly precious, priceless, worth shining in front of the entire world.”

I wasn’t sure anymore if he was talking about furniture, a partner, or Evol. No matter what he meant, I wanted to explore this with him.

The hand that had been around my shoulder reached up to brush my hair away from my ear. Warm lips swept a kiss along the ridge of my ear before moving to my neck. I leaned into it. It’s not like we hadn’t kissed before or had fleeting moments where attraction and sweetness were there. There’d even been a few times where I was sure one or both of us had confessed that there was something more than friendship there. This was forward for him, though.

“Missed me?” I asked, my voice rough. I let my body turn on the couch, clutching at his jacket and pulling him closer. I turned my head to force him to let me kiss him back and caught his gaze. There it was again, a mix of caring and calculating.

“You have no idea,” he growled before he wrapped his hands in my hair. I tried to move forward to claim his lips but found myself held back by the hair. “I spent a long time on my trip trying to figure out how to get back at you for laughing at my couch.” He came close, almost in a kiss before rubbing his nose to mine and pulling back again. I pouted and tried again to steal a kiss on the lips but the way my head wouldn’t move and the barest flex of his arms under the sleeves of his tee shirt reminded me that Kiro worked out almost as much as Gavin to make sure he stayed in shape for the physical demands of entertaining and the expectations of his appearance.

“You match your damn couch,” I hissed with a grin, glancing down at his sleeveless yellow jacket over the black shirt and dark blue jeans, plenty of silver chains and charms littered stylishly here and there. He owned as much jewelry as I did, even if he wore a few pieces like the handcuff necklace he had on today, more frequently than others. He clicked his tongue playfully.

“This is why I had to think so hard, Miss Chips. You’re too smart for a mere friendly prank or even a clever rebuttal. No,” he said, with the same sincerity that he quoted the great romance poets when he flirted with huge crowds on stage, “I learned early on to use my critics.” My eyes widened. My mind went to the dirtiest places possible, quickly. I supposed I had been innocently dating without indulging in more adult romances for too long.

“How, Kiro, do you plan on using me?” I asked, fluttering my lashes and looking at him innocently. I had already decided to give Kiro the reins. Every time I’d ever put my hand on him and went running blindly into adventure with him, I’d come out of it alive, and often with happier memories or at least a glimpse of something deeper in the man than I knew before. If he was asking to lead me into a road that led to Hell, I’d trust him.

“Well, you see, I just wasn’t sure about that until,” his grin twisted into something more sadistic as he gestured his head to the photo book. “And then someone so conveniently made a little wish with my fans.”

“You’re going to use me to hold your… chips?” I asked incredulously, my bashful smile fading to a puzzled look.

Kiro stood up and pulled me to my feet with him by my hair. I inhaled sharply, expecting rough treatment from almost literally anyone in my life except for him. I heard the jingle of chains and felt him press behind me, herding me closer to the table. “See now,” he said, “Not. Quite. Let me tell you about one night in Japan.”

He chuckled as he released my hair, his hands moving to my neck. They massaged my back for a second, making me lean back into him. I hardly noticed he’d grabbed the zipper on the back of my sundress until I heard the sharp sound of the zipper being pulled all the way down very quickly. The dress started to slide toward the floor and I moved to grab it, to hold it against my body. Strong hands caught my wrists before I could grab the cotton and held them against my sides as the dress slid weakly down. The only thing that kept my dress from falling to the floor and exposing my whole body was his hands around my wrists. The arms of the dress hung there. I noticed then that he’d managed to push me to the table and around the side where our backs were against the door and his dressing table was across from us.

Our reflection in the mirror caught my eye and suddenly I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I was standing against Kiro, my body covered by my bra, the loose folds of the dress, and the line of my panties peeking from behind where the sundress hung around me. My necklace and bracelet glinted playfully along my skin, the flush along my cheeks and ears having spread to my neck and chest by now. Kiro’s blonde hair was brushed against my shoulder, but I caught the edge of his face. He was watching me intently in the reflection of the mirror. I’d seen predators looking at game cameras like that before. A mix of curiosity tinged with the power of balance. He might walk away, deeming me unworthy of his time and energy, or rip me to shreds.

This Kiro was a different one than I’d known so far. Somehow I thought this Kiro had always been there, a master of control, molding himself to show an image that he needed to portray to charm the pants off the whole world.

I swallowed hard when I realized he hadn’t moved since unzipping the dress. It was a line he had drawn, a point in which he deemed he needed more information to pass or retreat. He was waiting for my permission, even when it felt like I had no power to give it. I looked at our reflection, thought about how little I seemed to handle control…. And decided to give in. I felt my dumbfounded look of wide eyed shock slowly melt into a demure smile and stared at Kiro right back in the mirror’s reflection.

“Okay… show me.” Kiro’s blue eyes seemed to get a little darker, his gaze a little more heated when I said that. I relaxed against his body and he let go of my wrists. The dress dropped to the floor, just a pile of forgotten white and blue cotton now. My white lingerie underneath gleamed under the lights, reflected in the mirror across from us. God, B.S. spared no expense making sure he and the perfect fixtures for this room, didn’t they? I didn’t get to dwell on it long, His hands,swept across my skin, giving me chills. I shuddered and melted against his body as he let his fingers and knuckles drag across my ribs on their way to release my bra.

“Did you know that when we got to this amazing little hot springs in the mountains, it was me, my agent, and our photographer, Miller.” I nodded, struggling to remember who the hell Miller was. It didn’t matter. My bra was joining my dress on the floor and Kiro had paused to place warm kisses and nibbles on my shoulders as he moved his hands around and found my breasts. He started underneath them, cupping them and letting his thumbs follow their curves, sliding them from the sides across to the nipples in front. They were already hard from my fear, excitement, and the anticipation that some of the most secret fantasies I’d had in the middle of the night alone in my bed might be happening right now.

Using the jewelry on his fingers well, letting steel and silver slide around and across my skin, the smooth bands and the rough edges of the skull on one hand hand and engraved cross on the other tease and catch my nipples. I whimpered and jerked every time, involuntarily, trying my hardest to suppress my cries. He grinned and just worked harder at making sure that between the teasing cold edge of rings he pinched and rolled at the rosy skin as well. Squirming in his hands like a trapped animal, I tried to turn my head away, not wanting to see myself completely helpless.

Rough hands grabbed my jaw and hauled my face back around again. Kiro was giving me a sharp look in the mirror. He wanted me to watch. Defiant, I caught his eyes, even as my face was ruddy with shame. He kept playing with my breasts, and I watched his fingers. I’d seen them deftly work at the strings of a guitar and violin. Now I wondered what chords he was playing with my body.

“So Miller gets into the building,” Kiro continued, “and he’s going on and on about how ugly all the furniture was. It was all bamboo and jade, tatami mats, rice paper screens… everything you’d expect as a tourist going into somewhere like that. He thought the owner only spoke Japanese.” He gave a little chuckle. I’d never heard Kiro mock someone like that, as if they were a fool. There was a lot about Kiro that was different tonight. It was as if every mean thing he kept inside was spilling out.

“The guy knew, though. So at dinner, we come down and he said he wants to make a toast, and that the toast is for Miller.” Kiro paused before his head disappeared behind my shoulder blades. His hands released my breasts from their sweet torment, and let his short nails rake down my ribs. A hot, wet tongue, more kisses, and a trail of gentle love bites fell down my spine. Kiro’s voice was quiet and I tried to steady the internal buzzing in my body, the shaking in my breath and the throbbing need between my thighs that grew stronger the wetter and more aroused I got. I knew I needed to pay attention but it was getting hard.

“He said,” Kiro continued,” That he was saving his most beautiful table for dinner.” He nipped at my ass, and I nearly jumped. I heard Kiro laugh behind me, and he placed a kiss on my asscheek before grabbing the upper hem of my panties with his lips. The lace in his teeth he dragged them down and let them pool at my feet. I didn’t have to look to know they were soaked. Judging by his snicker, I think Kiro did though.

I was naked now, fully, staring at myself in the mirror of Kiro’s dressing room, my breasts rosy, my hair a mess. Looming behind me, standing now from where he’d finished his quest to strip me down, the man I thought of as sunny was standing behind me more like a neon sign, a warning for something less wholesome. I felt his fingers winding in my hair again, his other hand reaching around to stroke my face before he grabbed my shoulder and using both my arm and my head turned me around to face him.

He was looking down at me, and I think I could understand the complication of perception he mentioned earlier. I felt like an object and a treasure all at once, dirty and cherished. My own eyes fell, not wanting to look at him. I felt like I couldn’t until he’d said something - anything - to deem me worthy. My eyes fell on the bulge in his jeans, the shape of him straining to break free. At least part of Kiro deemed me worthy, but he was a man after all. I supposed sometimes I forgot that.

The next thing I knew I had been pushed back. The coffee table pushed against the back of my knees and they buckled. I feel and was sitting down on the dark wood. Kiro kept pushing and I laid back, displayed fully before him. He leaned down, hooked his hands underneath my ass and helped push me up a bit more. I was just a bit taller than the table was long. When Kiro placed my feet on the edge of the wood, my knees were in the hair and I held them closed tightly.

He seemed much taller, looking down on me like that. I felt his gaze brush against every part of me, the swell of my breasts and the legs that were trying their hardest to hide places he had probably already seen as he was stripping and moving me.

“My God,” Kiro said finally leaning down and putting his hands on my knees to hold his balance. “That man didn’t have nearly as gorgeous as dish as this.”

I blushed and felt a flutter again, my pussy getting more swollen, more wet, more ready to let this man do whatever he wanted with me. Why oh why did NOW of all moments become the moment Kiro’s smile truly twisted into a predatory smirk. This was it, it was time. Somehow I felt like a fly that had fallen right into a spider’s web. He reached up towards my head to the paper bag I’d forgotten he’d had when he came in. it rattled some and I wondered what sadistic mechanisms of punishment he had in store for me.

Finally he pulled out his prize. A short yellow can came out and he rattled it in his hands. He displayed it for me and it took me a moment to realize he had… Pringles?

“Hokkaido scallop butter soy sauce chips,” he said proudly. “Very rare. Very delicious. Very weird. I’d never lie to you, Miss Chips. I told you I had your prize, but since you’ve been such a bad girl,” he said bad girl like it was a caress. I had to clench my knees tighter, “... then I’m afraid you’re going to have to earn them.” He popped the top off the can and started to take out shards of the chips that had fallen apart when he’d shaken the can.

Walking around to the side of the table, he looked down on me. His erection was right there. I started to reach for it, wondering if I could distract him from some damn chips and get him to just take me on this table, right here. I was growing impatient, how he’d managed to keep his clothes on was a mystery and honestly, a crime.Instead, he swept my hand away with his knee.

“You’re not listeniiiing,” he sang quietly. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to set my little table here, and then I’m going to go get us some drinks. And if you can be a good little table and not spill a single crumb before I say it’s okay… then I’ll let you eat as much of these weird chips as your little heart desires.” He gave me the classic Kiro grin. “But if you’re a bad little table, I’m going to have to punish you.”

A thrill of excitement went through me and I groaned, “yes sir.” Kiro hit his knees next to me and took my breast in his mouth, rolling my nipple with his tongue. I couldn’t help but moan and wiggle underneath him. I wanted more of that, not some sick game of freeze tag!

“Bad little table,” he admonished as he laughed. “If you do that when I set you, you’re going to have to be punished pretty quickly, and I promise, you won’t like it.” His grin said otherwise. His beautiful face said I’d like whatever the hell he wanted to do. God, he was turning the charm on tonight.

Slowly he reached into the Pringles can and took out chip shard by chip shard. I craned my head to watch closely as he arranged every piece carefully until he had spelled out “KIRO” from my tits to my belly button in Pringles shards. He stood up, admired his handiwork, and pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. When he started tapping at the screen, I protested for the first time at our little game. No amount of charm would let him get away with THIS.

“You are NOT taking a picture of me like this!” I hissed. He looked up and blinked confused, and then smiled again.

“Of course not. You think I need a camera to remember THIS? I told you I had a far more beautiful table setting than any other man on this earth.” He leaned down and placed one single chaste kiss on my forehead.”I’m changing the electronic door lock on my dressing room. Wouldn’t want my agent or an enterprising fan to burst in and ruin my snack, now would I?” I was speechless. He really was leaving me alone? In B.S. Entertainment? On a work day? While I was turned on and practically dripping all over his coffee table?

“Remember, Miss Chips,” he said before he disappeared through the door. “One single crumb finds its way to the floor and I’ll have to punish you.”

I don’t know how long I laid there. It couldn’t have been long but it felt like ages. I wanted to move. I wanted to close my eyes, reach between my legs, and plunge my own fingers deep within my throbbing cunt to make up for all the things Kiro HADN’T done. I couldn’t stop thinking about his intense eyes, the way his hands moved over my breasts, the way he kissed my back and my shoulder, the way he undressed me. I knew he wanted to sleep with me. Instead, he’d made me want him to do unspeakably dirty things to me. He made me think about him bending me over the table and plunging his probably perfect cock as far in me as it could go and fuck me until the only thing I could do was cling to that tacky ass couch and thank the lord he’d ever bought it.

Instead, I was laying here, wondering what would happen if he got pulled away as he often did for some paperwork, photoshoot, obligation, forgotten meeting, or signing autographs and taking selfies with a pack of fans. What if he never came back? What if something happened to him and I was laying in here until the police barged into look for evidence and the press was there and suddenly I was the Producer Slut Waiting for Kiro In His Dressing Room Covered In Chip Dust. My imagination went wild, my self torture ramping up to even more painful conclusions when I heard the doorknob jiggle. Kiro said there was an electronic lock, but what if he was the only one who used it? It didn’t sound like someone was opening an electronic lock. It sounded like someone had a key.

I had a choice. I could roll off this table, dive behind the couch and possibly even slip my dress on quickly before they got in, or I could lay here, and have a 50/50 chance of either pissing off Kiro or ruining my career.

“God I’m a fucking moron,” I thought angrily as I laid there. I chose to trust Kiro. He hadn’t let me down yet. I had to believe that he never would. He whispered as much a few times in my ears in our quiet moments when I hadn’t been sure what we were, if we were anything more than friends. I had to believe that he wouldn’t wait for the moment he had me naked and displayed, vulnerable, to break those quiet promises.

Sure enough, the knob stopped jiggling after a few moments. “Goddamn he changed the locks again?” I heard his agent say outside before stalking off. I felt anxiety and relief flood me at once. And before I knew it, the door opened without so much as the sound of a key in the hallway at all before Kiro slipped in.

“Good girl,” he purred and I felt like I wanted to cry.

Kiro walked over to me, staring at my naked body and his handiwork with the chips. He nodded as he looked over me and leaned down, littering soft kisses on my neck. I wanted to shiver, I wanted to wiggle my hips, do anything to let him know I loved what he was doing to my body. Instead I steeled myself. I hadn’t been given permission to spill the chips..He chuckled. He was doing it on purpose. Sadist.

“Miss Chips.” both words were drawn out. They felt dirtier than they ever had before. “Now’s the hard part. You see, I definitely brought these chips back for you, but it’s rude to snack alone.” He placed the rest of the Pringles can right under my belly button in the center of the “O” he had spelled out for the end of his name. “So I’m going to have my snack, and if you can be a good little table to let me have say… five tastes of what I believe is going to be my favorite treat, then your time as a table is done and you’ll have paid your debt to my sofa. You can eat chips and I’ll give you an even better reward for your hard work.” He gave me a boyish smile again as if he weren’t talking about my naked body as a bargaining chip. “If not…. Well, like I said you won’t like it.”

I nodded. He looked ecstatic and for a moment I couldn’t help but feel like I’d made a horrible mistake somewhere along the line. Kiro ran a hand through his hair, pulling back locks for a second that always looked so neatly tousled that they both couldn’t possibly and had to be naturally that perfect.

“I don’t think you understand how long I’ve waited for this.” he said quietly.

“It must be special,” I said, thinking of some rare candy. It wasn’t any secret Kiro was obsessed with food, especially sweets.

“You have never had the slightest idea,” he said and before I could tell him that didn’t make sense, he’d already leaned down at the end of the table and took my thighs in his hands. He parted my knees and started trailing kisses, slow, hot, and purposeful, from the back of my thighs around, inching closer and closer to my wet, throbbing pussy. It was where I’d needed him to touch and tease all night, and where he’d noticeably avoided. I gasped when he finally finished kissing and nipping his way up my thighs.

I’d allowed myself a moan or two but when his tongue plunged with no sense of hesitation right to my needy clit, I surprised myself with how loud I cried out. At my knee, his finger gave one tap before he pulled back and then lapped again, this time slowly, his tongue starting at the opening of my vagina and working itself up my slit until it found my clit again. I shuddered and felt some of the chip shards inch away from where they’d been placed, the Pringles can rattling on my stomach.

Kiro tapped twice on my knee. I needed to endure three more and I hoped that the better reward he promised would be permission for me to rip his clothes of, throw him on the ground and….

With the third lick i came apart. He went directly for my clit again, this time plunging one of those dexterous fingers deep inside me at the same, stroking and stoking fires that had started to fade when I’d been abandoned to my duties as a lone table as he’d left. I felt a wave of anguish and pleasure at the same time as my body rattled with pleasure and I sent chip shards scattering from my breasts to the floor below the table. Immediately, Kiro’s finger was withdrawn.

“Noooo,” I cried out in despair. Most men I knew would be angry or disappointed to stop sex, but Kiro was grinning. He was still erect under his clothes but somehow seemed pleased at my failure.

“What a bad, bad little table,” he said, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment. “I suppose I asked too much of you to be useful.” My jaw dropped. It was the first legitimately mean thing he’d ever said to me. I expected it from Victor but… I felt my eyes growing warm so blinking back tears I started to sit up, not caring that even more chips were being thrown to the floor. Kiro moved forward quickly.

“And this is your punishment,” he said as he pressed his lips to mine. The kiss caught me off guard and I honestly couldn’t even be angry or argue anymore. I was surrounded by the smell of his cologne and the taste of myself on his lips. I’d be angry tomorrow, I decided. I’d really let him have it over texts. But for right now, If I could just…

Kiro stood up, straightened his clothes and winked at me. “Your punishment is that you’re just going to have to think about this every night when you try and go to sleep and wonder just how good it would have felt if I’d laid your naked body on my ugly couch instead and worshiped you like a goddess instead of a table.” My mouth hung open and before apologies for any teasing thing I ever said about his sofa came out, his phone started ringing. “Sorry, that’s my alarm, I gotta run to an interview! He said happily. Kiro stopped at the door and reached down for the paper bag that had been discarded earlier. He pulled out a small bag of wipes and placed them down, “These are really good for chip dust, I find,” he said, mentally adding, and probably a really wet little cunt. “And this…” he pulled out a small box, “Is something I got you because I really like you, Miss Chips.”

His sunny smile was back again, any trace of the predator having slunk back into the jungle of his mind. As he slipped out of the door, I heard him down the hall hailing his agent and assuring him he didn’t change the locks on purpose to be late. I cleaned myself up, dressed myself, still dumbfounded. When I picked up the delicate black box I opened them and found perfect golden earrings of little paper cranes, and a small note. It was nothing more than a scrap of paper with a poorly scrawled cartoon of Kiro winking and a very tiny, “For My MissChips.” With the hurried handwriting, it almost looked like an apology note for his ‘mischiefs’.

I nodded as I tucked the earrings into my purse, cleaned the chips off the floor and looked back in the room. Grabbing the half empty Pringles can , I popped one of the chips in my mouth and the cogs in my head started to turn themselves. I left B.S. Entertainment still aching with need but smiling myself. After all, what was the idiom that Kiro had tucked into the lyrics of one of his latest songs?

Oh, that was right.

“Turnabout is fair play.”