It's a dark alley. Summer. We stand close, smelling each other, feeling heat
off of each other's skin, waiting for the first one to make a move.
I grab his skin and pull it tight, one hand already plunging into his crotch to hold his cock from the base and squeeze, the other crawling through his chest hair towards his neck.
He can feel a wave of warmth covering his body; knees get weaker. My hand is pressing into his neck — the harder I push, the softer his upper body resistance.
He has moved around by directing his pelvis, keeping his body in line with my motion, bending him over, running nails across his back — soft at first, but increasing until your
They drag along his back, leaving scattered red marks.
He fights the urge to call me off as his back reddens.
And still, with one hand gripping his base with a closed fist, I feel him shake and squirm under my paw.
As he shakes, my impatience grows. A quick smack across the back lets all the air out of his lungs, but instead of pulling away, he moves back into me. Knowing he can feel me up against his warmed back. Grinding back, into my hand, his hot flesh waiting for the next slap that doesn't come.
The longer I wait, the more he trembles. My hand drifts across his open mouth, sticking my fingers slowly into his wetness, gripping the jaw and pulling back till I hear a groan
escape his lips, and the drool begins to drift down my wrist.
Suddenly, with a closed fist pounding on the top of his pelvis, his legs buckle as I hold him up with my hand in his mouth. He is stabilizing himself against my pelvis.
Noticing his hands clenching, I take them each one by one, bringing them behind his back slowly. Testing his limits and range of movement, noticing his flinches and cringes.
With arms fastened in a belt behind him, I lift them to the middle of his back.
Groaning again, I can feel I have reached as far as he will go. I hold the belt over his shoulder and press him closer to the brick wall.
My hand returns to his cock, gripping it hard. It swells, and the heat on his back increases with every touch on the bricks. Pulling up on his arms and down toward the floor with his cock.
Drooling as he is stretched in both directions. Turning him around, I stare at him directly in the eyes and suddenly leave him free.
Commanding: "Lay on the floor!", I stand above him, spitting down on his chest, rubbing it in with my foot. I move it up to and lightly step on his neck. With my toe, I draw a line down back across the chest towards his cock, pressing it hard into the pelvis. He nods as if to tell me to go harder, more pressure, tighter. Without being able to use his arms, now, he has to fight back.
His back fills with tiny red dots as the blood starts to creep out from my scratches; He can feel it stinging against the floor. He struggles against me. My foot digs deeper into his chest, giving small shocks and forcing the breaths out.
Well, maybe rope is an excellent way to restrain him a bit more since he struggles so much against my foot. He fights along the way, the whole way.
I wind my belt around his arms and chest. His eyes take a distant, milky gaze, as he urges me on. He can see the small glint of a blade out of the corner of his eye (I know, it is his thing). I bring the edge in front of his face; he nods as it drifts back down, lightly across his chest, briefly over his nipple, and finding a spot to rest on his hip.
I am swimming in my panties. Digging slowly into the skin, he flinches as it lightly splits the skin. I drag it slowly downwards, picking it up briefly and placing it against him again. I roll him onto his front. His face digs into the floor, and my hand with the blade moves onto his back.
When before I used slow short strokes on his back, I now take advantage of the long spine, dragging the blade lightly down from shoulder to tail. Never quite re-tracing the lines, but each line just millimeters away from the last. I trace the module with my tongue.
My knee is pressing on the top of his shoulders. He struggles against the stinging ropes.
My elbow is pressing down right below his wing-blades. He can smell my dripping pussy.
I lay the blade on the last spine bone. His cock is throbbing as he feels my pussy against his neck.
I stop.
His ass arches up against the blade. Craving that last push. Squirming against my hand at the base of his spine. (I bless my light hold. I am scared and excited.)
I lick the blood. Spit it back in his face. I breathe. His heat hurts.
His asshole is just underneath my chin. I wait.
My body heat is stinging against his back.
He can't move, but I feel him shaking under me.
He can feel my breath on his asshole.
I blow and take a thick broad lick. His ass arches up as my wet tongue pressed against it.
My hand is grabbing at the base of his cock. I twist it up, cock up between his legs backward. I spit on my palm. It's throbbing. I run a wet finger on the crown. His knees are holding our weight, but if he collapses.
My finger teases around the top of his cock. The fingers that were grabbing the shaft are moving- my thumb over the top of his urethra, pressing down.
I slide on his back, with my face; starting in his ass, through the base
Never going more than a few strokes before stopping, squeezing, Milking, upward.
