For Sir Ch 02 Going For A Drive

I barrel through the front door of our house and slam it shut behind me. With all the grace of a charging bull, I race toward the bathroom. I'm late. I'm LATE! I'm supposed to be ready and waiting. I have 24 minutes. Oh my God, I think to myself, I'll never make it.

His instructions were so simple, be kneeling in the playroom. He told me last night, after I'd finally gotten the fucking I'd been craving, that I was ready for more. Today is the first day, and I'm going to fuck it up already. Today is the first day, and I'm late!

But work was an unmitigated disaster. A physical manifestation of Murphy's Law; everything that could go wrong...went wrong. And now I'm home an hour later than I should be. I'm sweaty and dirty and I need to make sure I'm smooth and clean for Sir. Panic!

I shuck my clothes on my way into the bathroom, hitting a shoulder on one side of the door jamb and stumbling into the counter, knee first.

"Mother FUCKER!" I shout into my T-shirt, still halfway over my head. I drop it to the floor and clutch my sore leg with one hand, mewling pathetically while hopping toward the shower and wrenching the taps open with the other. I glance at my phone before setting it on the counter by the sink, I'm down to 22 minutes.

"Shit!"

I grab a new razor blade and multitask like a fiend, brushing my teeth while washing my hair. Sudsing my body and attempting to shave with minimal bloodletting. When I'm satisfied that I'm smooth everywhere, I shove the taps back to their off position and grab my towel. I dry with one hand while peaking at my phone...9 minutes. I'd say that's good time but I'm unconvinced.

I leave my clothes where I dropped them and towel at my hair while dashing toward the bedroom.

As fast as I can, I slather myself in lotion and rub it in thoroughly. I rake a brush through my long, dark tresses in an attempt to tame the rats' nest of tangles. A glance in the mirror reveals a massive need for mascara. I manage to apply it without permanent damage to my eyes and straighten from the mirror as a sound catches my ear. Did I just hear a door close? Yes. I know I did. I peek out the window and sure enough, Sir's truck is in the driveway. Shit. I'm out of time. I take two attempts to get the mascara wand back in the tube before giving up and tossing the whole thing onto the counter in front of the mirror, then race at a dead sprint toward the playroom, throwing open the closet doors in the hallway to slow Sir as he enters and buy me precious seconds to get into place.

In the playroom, I kneel in my spot. I'm panting from exertion and adrenaline. My heart is racing. I made it. I made it. I made it. I can hear Sir chuckling and the delicate 'snick' of the closet door latching shut. How did I not hear his truck? He must have arrived when I was in the shower.

Without wasting a moment, Sir comes into the playroom and walks straight over to me. I am not required to keep my eyes downcast. In fact, Sir encourages eye contact, so I watch him as he approaches. He is smiling. He looks excited. I can't decide if that's good for me or not.

"Hello, my pumpkin," He coos at me, running a hand tenderly through my wet hair and down my cheek.

He bends and plants a soft kiss to my brow as I murmur, "Hi, Sir."

"Were you in a hurry today? You've left a mess in your wake."

"Yes, Sir," I say simply.

He chuckles again before extended a hand down to me and saying, "Come with me."

I put my hand in his without much thought, but I'm confused when we leave the playroom and head back toward the bedroom. Maybe today will be another gentle day?

As we enter, Sir says "Put on a dress. Nothing else."

What?

But I do as he says. I pull a dark blue, halter style sundress from my closet. It's soft and comfortable. The hem falls just above my knees, so it gives me leeway with my movements before I flash the world, and the clingy fabric hugs my hourglass figure in a way that makes Sir watch me closely.

"Good girl," he says approvingly, and takes my hand once more. We move toward the front door, and although I'm dying to know what's happening, I don't question him. He nods toward a pair of sandals I've left haphazardly tossed by the front door, and I slip my feet into them as we leave the house.

Sir keeps my hand clasped in his as we circle to the passenger door. He opens it, and gives my bum a gentle pat as he says, "In you go,"

I climb in, being less cautious about flashing, since it's for my Sir's eyes, and give him a saucy smirk when I catch his eyes focused on my bare ass while he closes the door behind me.

I watch him circle to his door, taking in everything about him. Everything about this man breathes fire into the heart of me. His gait is confident, steady. It's the walk of a man that knows exactly what he's doing, but isn't cocky in the least. His dress is casual, a t-shirt and work pants. His work boots have already been exchanged for sneakers. A ball cap sits low over his eyes, and they glow with energy as he flashes me a smile while climbing into the driver's seat. I must look as nervous as I feel, because his gaze softens for a moment as he reaches over and grasps the back of my neck, pulling me to meet his mouth. I melt into him while his tongue swirls against mine. When he pulls back, it's only far enough to say, "it's go time, pumpkin. You get the radio today."

YAY!! Sir is...a few...years older than me, and as such, our musical tastes are divided. While he prefers to just listen to the purr of his Precious' diesel engine, I prefer rock. Loud rock. I quickly take advantage before he can change his mind, and connect my phone to Precious' Bluetooth, cranking the volume until Sir gives me a sidelong, raised eyebrows look. Deciding not to push my luck, I sit back in my seat and bop to the heavy drums of a Godsmack song. Sir casts his eyes heavenward for a moment, but says nothing, pulling out into the laneway and setting off.

I'm curious but unconcerned when, a short while later, Sir pulls off the road. We're on a gravel side concession, with only farmers fields around us. He puts the truck into park and says simply, "out."

I open my door and hop onto the soft shoulder of the road, being cautious of the steep incline of the ditch while making my way to the truck bed, where Sir is folding back the cover. In the truck bed is a solid looking piece of wood, with what appears to be padding in some places, and raised portions in others. It's anchored into place, but I can't comprehend what it is. He climbs into the truck bed and extends a hand toward me, "come here, sweetie."

I take his hand and climb up. My curiosity is mounting, but I don't hesitate, and I have no idea what I'm seeing. He pats a padded section of the board and says, "sit right here."

It doesn't look like a seat, but I do as he says, and jump slightly as his hands reach behind my neck for the knot of my halter. He stops for a moment.

"Dress off, pumpkin,"

My eyes dart around us quickly as my heart speeds up. There's no one around, but what if someone sees?

By the time I bring my eyes back to Sir, he's pulled a black blindfold out of a bin I hadn't noticed in the corner. Has that always been in his truck?

Without a word, he slides the blindfold over my head, adjusting my hair gently and making sure it sits snugly over my eyes. Immediately, I begin to relax. When his hands find the knot again, I don't try to stop him. I shimmy my bottom as he pulls the dress down my legs, leaving me naked and exposed in the back of the truck, and then his calloused palms are encouraging me to lay back. The padding on the wood meets my back, the upraised portion sitting against the top of my shoulders and against my waist, preventing me from moving around on the board.

I try to relax, and I listen closely to Sir's movements, trying to predict what's going to happen. Are we going to play here? Right in the truck, outside?

I comply without thought as Sir takes my right hand and extends it up and to the side. A soft rope loops my wrist, and he pulls it tight and moves to the corner of the truck. I can hear him tying the rope into place. He repeats the process on my other side, and a quick tug on my binds tells me that I'm stuck.

My nervousness and excitement heighten; my heart beating fast in my chest as I strain to hear his next movements. He approaches me, and I'm startled when his hands grasp mine. They slide down my arms, his rough palms leaving goosebumps in their wake. My body responds to him automatically. I begin to relax, and my core tightens at his touch. A moan leaves my mouth when his hands run over my chest, caressing my breasts, tugging at my hardened nipples before making their way down my stomach and then retracing their path back up my body. His mouth meets mine, and I kiss him eagerly, hungrily. I arch into his hands and feel my pussy clench as he whispers, "such a pretty girl," in my ear.

My pale skin feels flushed pink when I feel him step back from me, he moves around my body and parts my knees with a coaxing hand. I spread them easily for my Sir, knowing he can see how much I want him. The evidence of my arousal is obvious. His hands grip my thighs hard, spreading them wider. I imagine the concentration on his face as he takes in the scene laid out before him.

Rope loops my right leg, above my knee, and it's tied off so that my knee is pulled as far and wide as it can go; just shy of uncomfortable. Sir gives my inner thigh a squeeze before repeating the process with my other leg. Submitting to his ministrations only adds fuel to the fire, and I can feel my wetness on my spread lips as cool air touches my most sensitive skin.

Sir moves to my ankles next. Roping one, then the other, tying them so I have no way to clench my legs together. No way to shield my exposed pussy. With the placement of the board and the ropes, I can't squirm away. I grip the ropes at my hands, and test the hold on my legs. I'm tied down tight. I can't move at all. I'm at his mercy.

He moves around me, and I hear him rummaging. I strain to imagine what he's doing, trying to predict what happens next. I'm nervous about someone seeing me, but with the blindfold, I'm relieved of the constant need to look around me. Sir will take care of me.

When he returns to his space between my legs, my heart picks up it's pace. I ache for his touch. I can sense him there, but he's not moving. He's watching me.

"Look at you, my beauty," he coos at me, "What a pretty sight you make."

I hear the click of his phone. He's taking a picture of me. I can feel a blush spread through my body as I imagine what I look like.

"Now that I have you here, what should I do with you? I don't know where to start," he says, running a finger up my right thigh, from my knee, moving ever closer to where I want him. When he reaches the apex of my thigh, he slides his finger gently along my slit. A whimper escapes me, and I strain to get closer to his touch.

"So wet for me," he murmurs, and he leans over me. I sense his presence, but he doesn't touch me except to run his dampened finger over my bottom lip, "taste," he commands.

My tongue darts out to sweep up my wetness, and he pushes his finger into my mouth. I suck eagerly, taking in my own flavour. He pulls his finger from between my lips and grips the back of my neck. His mouth crashes into mine and his tongue shoves into my mouth possessively. I meet his tongue thrust for thrust, yielding to his kiss. And when he pulls back to trail hot kisses down my neck, I'm panting. I want to touch him. Badly. I tug on my ropes and let out a frustrated whine as his mouth clamps onto my nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive peak. I arch into his touch, and gasp when one of his hands dips down to my core, stroking me. I squirm as much as my bonds allow, and let out a long, quiet moan when his finger slides inside me. Just a gentle dip, once. Twice. And then more firmly. And then he fingers me hard and fast, in a way he knows drives me crazy. But as quickly as he begins, he stops. Pulling his fingers from my soaked sex and shuffling with something else.

A click, and then a steady buzzing. SHIT. He's brought the wand. There will be orgasms today. Hard orgasms.

I buck the instant he makes contact against me with the vibrating head. The powerful sensation is both delicious and overwhelming. I moan as Sir slides it over my clit, looking for just the right place.

"Tell me where, pumpkin," he says. And I arch as he hits it.

"There, Sir," I breath.

He holds the wand in place, and I writhe against it. I hardly notice when he begins to lay more rope over me, looping it and knotting it around my thighs. When I realize what he's doing, creating a harness to hold the wand in place, I squirm.

"Hold still," He commands, and flips the wand off.

"Yes, Sir," I reply, but I'm not so sure if I'm going to like this as much as I'd hoped.

When he finishes, the wand sits snugly against me. Pressing firmly against my button. He flicks it back on and I jolt and clench. I hear him hop down from the truck and move away.

The wand turns off, and I relax. He must have unplugged it inside the truck.

Sir spends a moment running his hands over me, warming my skin, before asking, "Your phone is in the truck?"

Huh?

"Uh...yes, Sir," I say. My confusion obvious in my voice. And the air stirs around me as he moves away.

I shift restlessly, waiting for what comes next. The pressure of the wand sitting tight against my clit makes me wriggle. A few moments later Sir is beside me again, pushing back my hair and sliding something into my ear. What the fuck?

"Say something," he orders.

"Like what?"

And I hear my voice echo strangely

He pulls away and says from a further distance, "again."

"What?" I say.

He comes back toward me and says, "perfect. Relax, pumpkin, this is going to be fun."

"What is?"

"We're going to play a game," he says, "We're going to take a drive, and you're going to cum for me, but only when you have permission. When you feel yourself getting close, you must ask. If I give you permission, you'll hear me honk the horn. If I don't, there will be no honk."

"I don't understand, Sir...a honk?"

He chuckles, and moves away from me, "you will."

And when I hear him shuffling again, and see darkness spreading at the edges of the blindfold, I realize he's closing the box cover over me.

What the hell is happening?

"Try not to be too loud, we don't want people to think I'm torturing you," he says smugly, before the tailgate closes loudly.

I breath for a minute. Trying to assess the situation.

"Can you hear me?"

Sir's voice comes through strong and clear on the headset he's slid into my ear.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl," and with that, the truck starts up. It's heavy rumble jolting me.

The wand turns on, and I gasp. The buzzing pressure is right where I need it, and I roll my hips against it as much as I'm able. The truck begins to move, and the added rumble makes my whole body heat up. Within moments, I'm relaxing onto the board, realizing that it's design is to hold me in place as the truck moves and turns. I sigh and rock against the vibrator, letting the changes in pressure move me steadily toward my first orgasm. It feels so good.

I can hear the whir of passing cars, and each time we pause I wonder if other drivers can hear me moaning and panting.

I feel naughty, strapped down naked in the back of my Sir's truck, knees wide and pussy open and weeping. I want my Sir's cock, and I wonder if we're going somewhere so he can fuck me. I let my mind wander as molten heat builds in my sex. I arch my hips away from the vibrating head as much as I can, tensing to give myself a break from the buzzing, before releasing and letting it sit snugly against my clit once more. My breathing is becoming shallow and panting, and my pussy aches to be filled. I'm going to cum, and then I remember the headset and my instructions.

"Sir? May I please cum?" I say quietly, and I wait. No honk.

I arch away from the vibrating head again, attempting to ease the pressure so I can stave off my orgasm. A moment later, I try again, more loudly.

"Sir? May I please cum?"

Honk.

I sigh in deep pleasure and relax into the vibrator, letting it shove me over the edge and moan quietly as my orgasm sweeps through me.

Before the first is even completely passed, I feel another building inside me.

"Again, Sir?" and the honk is almost immediate. As my second orgasm rolls through me, I gasp and buck, moaning long and low as my pussy spasms over and over. Finally, it eases, and I sink into the board with a happy sigh.

"Thank you, Sir," I murmur, and I hear my Sir's throaty chuckle through the headset.

My clit is sensitive after my orgasms, and I arch away from the wand again. Enjoying the indirect pressure as I come down. I'm moaning quietly, arching my back and tugging on the ropes holding my arms in place. God, this feeling is amazing. But my Sir is too far away. I want his hands on me. His mouth on me. I want my tongue on him. I want to be sucking on him while ride out my orgasms, so much so that my mouth waters in hunger for him.

My thoughts build heat inside me, and soon I am close to another orgasm.

"Sir," I moan, "Can I please cum?"

No honk. I arch away from the wand and whine. I'm so close.

"Please Sir, can I cum?"

No honk.

My muscles are protesting holding my position, but if I relax, the wand will force me to orgasm. I strain to hold myself still, my thighs and abs shaking.

"Sir, please?"

No honk.

I'm panting now, even the indirect pressure is too much. My pussy is tightening, my orgasm building as I fight to hold it off. I can't cum, I don't have permission.

No. No. No.

"Sir..." I practically beg, but no honk, and I clamp my eyes shut and grit my teeth as I cum anyway. Heat and desire rolling through me, my breath hitching as I realize what I've done.

"I'm sorry, Sir," I say quickly, but hear only silence in return.

My clit throbs and twitches in sensitivity, I'm still arched away from the vibrator. But the sensation is so overwhelming now, I feel another orgasm building deep in my pussy, and I'm helpless against it.

"Sir, can I please cum?"

Honk. God, yes.

"Mmm," is all I can get out. I can feel my juices leaking from my soaked pussy. I'm desperate for my Sir's cock, my mind fixated on the thought of him pounding into my aching cunt.

"Sir, please?" I say again, and my muscles quiver. I can't hold away from the wand much longer.

No honk.

"Sir, PLEASE," I try again. Nothing. And I'm helpless to fight it when my muscles involuntarily let go, leaving the strong buzz of the wand solidly against my sensitive, throbbing clit.

I cum. I can't help it. I cum hard and deep, with a long, keening moan, and a sobbed, "Sir."

I can't arch away from the wand anymore, and I slide from one orgasm directly into another.

"Sir, pleeeeease." Honk. Oh thank God.

I buck and twitch, too sensitive to enjoy it fully. I arch away from the wand, but can't hold it, and fall back with the wand tight against me.

Fuck. I'm going to die. My heart is pounding, my body is covered in a sheen of sweat from the intensity of my orgasms and the strain of holding off; rivulets glide down my temples. My eyes water from the overwhelming sensations. The heavy buzz of the toy is too much.

"Sir, please," I whimper, "I can't."

But the toy keeps going. My shaking thighs and abs can't hold the toy away from me, and it drives me to another orgasm.

"Sir, please," again, no honk, and I topple over the edge of another orgasm regardless. My watering eyes overflow, mixing with sweat as they skirt the edges of my blindfold and roll down my temples. My moan is pitiful, even to my own ears.