Damn traffic. She is late. She played the last scenario in her head . . . trying to guess what he would have in store for her tonight. She is already wet. She adored his freedom, his open mindedness. With him she could just be. Now she is late.
As she climbed the steps, her heart quickens.
"I'm sorry I'm late the traffic . . . " He is waiting.
"Shush," he whispers, gently holding his finger to her lips, he crushes her against the door, whispering in her ear, raising goose bumps on her arms and neck, "shush, now you belong to me . . . mine to do with as I choose."
Her heart is pounding, and she wants to brush the hair back from his face, but he has started to slowly kiss her neck. She could feel the edge of his tongue moving by her earlobe wet, smooth, she shut her eyes.
She did not move. He ran his tongue over her lips, and ears. Undoing her blouse, his tongue continued to dart around her neck, lips, ears and nipples...she moaned, her legs were going and her panties were wet. She did not move. The silk blouse was completely unbuttoned.
She wanted to touch him, but he pulled the blouse back over her wrists, binding her arms.
"Please, " she murmured but knew he would not untie her . . . his mouth moved down her body, his lips breath and tongue creating magical sensations on her skin.
He undid her pants, pulling them down just far enough to kiss and nibble the insides of her thighs. His breath is hot on her panties. My God, she thought, how can something so warm give me such chills . . . but she said nothing, and she didn't dare move.
He let her step out of her shoes and socks and pulled down her pants. She watched the top of his head move as he kissed her thighs up, down, one, then the other. She ached to touch his face, his fingers. She loved his long fingers, moving around her mouth, in, out.
His hands came up under her panties; she had a fleeting thought of wishing her underwear not so practical . . . till she felt his hands running along the line of where her butt and thigh met.
Painfully, slowly he kissed her stomach, pulled the panties to her knees and stopped!
He is smiling. She is at his mercy. She did not speak and she did not move. She could see the bulging in his pants, wanting with an incredible ache to take him in her mouth.
Spreading her lips, his tongue flicked over and over against her clit. He could feel her, wet, and swollen, ready. He loved to make her squirm. He backed off and kissed her body.
He pressed against her, holding her tightly against the door, sliding a finger deep inside while rubbing her clit. She thought she would faint but she would not give him the satisfaction.
Again he broke the intensity, kissing his way to her mouth . . . thank you, she thought, his lips brushed hers. She was burning with desire, tongues intertwined, smelling and tasting herself.
She hungrily sucked at his mouth, unable to move, unable to reciprocate. Her body shaking he pushed her harder into the door.
Musky smells filled the room. She felt his fingers sliding inside her, while he again kissed her neck, working his way down her body. She tensed and gratefully felt his tongue licking, then sucking her clit, over and over again.
Each time she got close he stopped. There were tears in her eyes, she pulled at the binding on her wrists, shouting,
"Don't stop. I need to cum."
She knew as soon as the words left her mouth that she was in trouble. He gave her clit one last lick and rose to his feet,
"I told you to be quiet. Your body is mine."
Grabbing her by the hair he pulled her down over his lap. Alternating, he fingered her very wet pussy and spanked her ass. Again and again . . . she felt the sting of his hand each stroke a little harder then the last.
She could not believe how excited she was. Her butt stung, and she could only imagine its red color.
He lifted her pushing her face first into the door. He removed her bra and rebound her arms with her blouse. He spun her forward pressing her back into the door. The cool wood against her did little to alleviate the sting of her sore red ass.
Three fingers are deep inside her. He uses his thumb to gently massage her clit, knowing that she was rapidly approaching an orgasm.
"Not yet," he said, moving his hand out of her pussy, feeding it to her to clean.
"Say you're nothing more then a toy for me to use and enjoy . . . and I will let you cum."
She licked his fingers like a starving child.
"I am nothing more than a toy for you to use and enjoy, "she yelles.
Kneeling in front of her, he pressed his mouth against her. Her eyes shut, her body shook and within seconds she exploded over his mouth and face, collapsing, over his shoulder in exhaustion.
Carrying her over to the couch, he unbound her wrists. Gently he caresses her face, softly kissing her eyes, cheeks and mouth, tender, loving, a grin of smug satisfaction, but his eyes still full of mischief. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that look. He's plotting something.
Sliding her hand up his thigh, looking him straight in the eye . . . she starts to massage his cock through his jeans.
She straddles his lap, facing him, while he took off his shirt. Her bare buttocks still red and stinging, she kisses his face, neck, mouth; she follows the curve of his ear with her tongue, careful not to rub her very damp self against his bulging pants.
His head tilts back, a delightful smile on his face as her tongue has moved to his nipples, sucking, biting and he watches as she kisses his abdomen.
She unzips his jeans. The sound alone titillates. Freed, the pink head of his cock protrudes above the waistband of his underwear.
Her tongue darts over the head of his penis. Flick, flick, flick, she is thinking . . . payback, and lets her tongue slowly circle the head.
She is aware of his breathing, of the hairs rising on his arms, his scent . . . of how she could make his penis dance under her tongue. It's taking all of her self-control to move slowly.
She wants to fuck him, fast and furious. She knows better than to even suggest it, and moves his underwear a little lower, allowing her to glide her tongue up and down his cock.
He lifts his hips and she slides the underwear and jeans down a bit, but rather then taking them off, she takes his penis into her mouth stroking him back and forth. Her hands, her mouth, her lips, her tongue consumes him.
He has seen the look before; she is zoned in the wanting; in the desire; in the determination to please him. Lost in the rhythm of her mouth on him, she is stunned when he grabs her, pushing her down onto the floor.
"I'm not done with you yet, woman."
She waits on the floor, shocked and confused. He leaves the room and returns with what looks like a small toolbox.
He sets the toolbox on the floor and orders her to open it. As the lid goes up, her eyes go wide. The box is filled with all sorts of sex toys, some she recognizes, and some she does not. He helps her to her feet.
"Stay right there." She does not wish to be spanked again. She does not speak, and dares not move.
He reaches into the box taking out two pieces of leather. Pulling her hands out in front of he puts one on each wrist.
"Put your arms behind you."
She heard the click of the restraints binding her arms. She is angry at herself at being visibly aroused. Her smile is acquiescent, she cannot hide from him. He knows every inch of her.
He kicks her legs apart and massages her very wet pussy. Reaching back into the toolbox, he pulls out a slender vibrator. She doesn't like plastic. Gritting her teeth, she keeps her mouth shut.
She cannot believe what he is doing. He's taping the vibrator to her stomach! Her desire to laugh is quickly interrupted by his hard dick pressing against her behind.
He wraps her in his long arms, kissing her neck, nibbling on her ear lobe, gently stroking her hair. He works his way around her. She could feel herself slipping into that hypnotic place he always took her. He was directly in front of her.
"Do you still want to please me, to taste me, to wear me?"
"Yes, please,"
His cock is throbbing. As he lowers her to her knees, she understands. In this position the vibrator is directly on her clit. Where did he think this up, she wonders but before she can react, he places his cock in her mouth . . . and gently, slowly rocks her back and forth.
She tries to ready herself for him. Concentrate! His hands are on her head pulling her back and forth, occasionally taking his cock out of her mouth, only to slide it in further.
She tightens her lips and wants suck the living day lights out of him.
She promised herself that he would pay . . . but he was driving the reverberating vibe into her clit, and with the cadence of a snake charmer, her body swooned and moved with the two sensations. Hands bound behind her, he was, literally, holding her up with his cock. Her eyes closed, she was going to cum again.
She thought if I look in his eyes he will know, if I avoid them he will know, she looked away, knowing that he was going to frustrate her again.
As if on a cue, he lifted her to her feet and onto the couch. He removed the vibrator. Her mouth and vagina ache from want. She could taste him.
She could feel him. She could scream with lust . . . but he told her keep her head down. She did not utter a sound but turned her head towards the toolbox....
