Tied in a Tent

A few weeks had gone by since my last encounter with Gina. Our brief acquaintance had started with me tied up in the tent Gina lived in during my ill-fated pot purchasing expedition. From there it had progressed over several weeks from a chance encounter that found me at her mercy in a bathroom stall, to a planned excursion where I had been her willing captive for a night.

Our last encounter had been so wild, so far from my dull everyday experience, I had decided purposefully to avoid Gina and the homeless encampment in which she lived for at least two weeks. I felt guilty for doing so, but my rational brain was blasting me with warnings that was turning out to be the most profoundly erotic experience of my life could not possibly end well.

After two weeks passed, I began to doubt my recollection of what had happened. The lurid details faded just a bit and I started to question how much of what I remembered was real, and how much was influenced by the intensity what had happened.

And so it was with some shock that I read one morning that the city had unexpectedly cleared the homeless camp from its stretch along the river, forcing the unfortunate inhabitants to move elsewhere.

Is Gina gone?

I wondered. The thought that I might not see her again tore through me. At the same time, I thought maybe putting this strange chapter behind me might be best in the long run.

That afternoon, I went to the spot where the camp had been, and sure enough, the tent city was gone. Garbage and debris were strewn across the grassy area where the haphazard collection of tents had been just days before. I strolled along the sidewalk, recalling how a walk down this exact stretch had pulled me into Gina's orbit just a few weeks before. I must have had a smile on my face as I drew both curious and looks from a few of the city workers who were clearing garbage from the grass.

Well, I guess that's that,

I thought to myself,

Gina is gone

. I felt hollow with the realization that I had waited too long. Maybe if I had come a week earlier, I could have at least found out where she planned to go.

I looped around the grassy riverbank and began my walk back to the entrance. My head was swirling with thoughts, and I nearly walked into a person who was suddenly standing in the middle of the sidewalk in front of me. I lurched to a stop and took a step back, taking in the woman standing there, hands on her hips. Gina. She stood, watching me carefully with a broad smile on her face. I froze for a moment, dumbfounded, as she watched the wheels turn slowly in my brain.

"Why not take a picture? It'll last longer," she said, snapping me out of my trance. My hand twitched voluntarily toward the phone in my pocket before I registered the sarcasm in her voice.

"Uh hey," I said dumbly, "you're still here."

"Yeah sorta," she said, "Obviously I don't live here anymore, but the city was kind enough to hire me and a few other former residents to help clean the place up."

"Oh cool," I said, as always at a loss for anything intelligent to say to Gina. She looked me up and down, and I took her in at the same time. From her dirty blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail to her tan, toned arms and muscular legs, she looked exactly the same as she had the first time I saw her. Her pink tank top and and black yoga pants gave her the look of someone who might be on her way to the gym, if not for the thick work gloves and nylon vest with reflective strips that identified her as a city worker.

"Did you just want to have a quick romp right here, or should we go hide under a tree?" She said playfully.

"Uh," I started, then stopped at the mocking look on her face.

"Sorry Kenny, I got a job now, I can't just stop everything when you get a hard-on." I cringed and took an uncomfortable look around to see if anyone was within earshot.

Gina laughed softly, then took out a pen and small piece of paper from her vest pocket and wrote quickly on it. Handing the paper to me she said "come to this address at 8pm." I read the address on the piece of paper, then nodded, but she had already turned on her heel and strode away.

The hours went by excruciatingly slowly, and I couldn't resist the temptation to drive by the address she had given me. It turned out to be a run-down looking Travelodge motel in a sketchy part of town. When 8:00 finally rolled around, I parked my car a block away and walked to the address.

I found Gina in the small parking lot in front of the motel, looking much as she had before, minus the reflective vest. She had a faint dirty smudge on her cheek, and looked a little disheveled from what had likely been a long day of outdoor work.

Gina watched me as walked up to her, finally saying "Where've you been, Kenny? I almost missed you." She put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me toward her, but not into the embrace I thought it would be. Her hand moved immediately from my shoulder down to the crotch of my pants, fondling my cock which had been dormant up until that moment. I took a sharp breath in, smelling dirt and faint body odor on her. As her hand rubbed slowly up and down, my cock hardened immediately, and Gina beamed her broad, toothy smile.

"There's my boy," she said, removing her hand and stepping away from me toward the front door of the hotel. I hurried after her, hands in my pockets trying to disguise the visible protrusion in my pants.

Instead of walking into the hotel lobby as I expected, she turned and walked down the pavement right in front of the hotel. I realized it was one of those motels where most of the rooms have their own entrances from the outside. Eventually she stopped in front of a red door with the number "14" on it, and opened it with a metal key.

I followed her a few steps into the room, and without turning to look at me, Gina said clearly but quietly, "On your knees Kenny." I had just cleared the doorway as she said this, and I stopped and sank to my knees. I was in a tiny entryway to the room, and there was a dark doorway next to me, which I guessed was the bathroom.

Gina continued into the room, walking over to a backpack that was sitting on the floor. Ahead of me where Gina stood, I could see what I guessed to be about half of the room, which included a small dresser on which a old looking television sat, and opposite it I could see just the end of a bed. The far wall was windowless and had a metal heater/AC unit attached to it. Even with the lights on, the room was dim and dingy.

Gina withdrew what looked like a piece of rope from the backpack. She turned back toward me approached, holding out the length of rope in front of her. I watched Gina walk slowly toward me, one muscled leg in front of the other, a light sheen of sweat on her neck and chest drawing contrast to the bit of cleavage visible above the line of the sports bra under her pink tank top. I was transfixed, and hard as a rock, kneeling as she closed the space between us with that mischievous smile.

"Hands above your head," Gina said softly as she came to a stop in front of me. I raised my hands up, and she took another step forward so that my arms rested against her belly, her feet touching my knees. She pushed my hands together, then began tying my wrists with the practiced speed and efficiency I had experienced many times before. In short order my hands were bound tightly, and Gina moved even further into me, my face pushing against the bottom of her tank top. I inhaled, again smelling the odor of a body after a day in the heat, more pungent now than it had been before.

"Up," she said, pulling my arms and urging me into a standing position. As I rose, she continued to push her body into mine, and the glorious friction encompassed me. We lingered like that for a moment, my face now above her head, my bound hands still raised.

Gina finally put her hands on my sides, and turned me to face the bathroom door, reaching in to flick the light switch on. The small bathroom lit up under the harsh fluorescent bulbs. Gina pushed me firmly into the bathroom. To my right was a mirror-covered wall with a small sink in the middle. To my left was a toilet, and straight ahead was a shower stall with a dirty glass door.

Gina reached past me and pulled open the shower door, then pushed me forward and said simply, "In."

Once I was fully in the shower stall, Gina pushed the glass door closed, and I stood there, fully clothed, in the closed shower stall. "Hah, maybe that will be your room for tonight Kenny, what do you think?"

I heard her footsteps as she walked out of the bathroom and began rummaging around the room. After a few moments, I heard her voice say, "Man what a day. I could use a shower to get this sweat off."

Her footsteps came back into the bathroom, and she pulled the shower door open. "Take off your clothes and throw them on the floor," she said quickly. Though challenging with my hands tied, I managed to get my shoes, socks, and pants off, and tossed them out on to the bathroom floor. I fumbled around a bit, but couldn't figure out any way to get my shirt off. Gina watched me quietly, an amused look on her face.

Once it was clear I wasn't going to get my shirt off, she took a step back, and swiftly pulled her tank top off, then slid out of her yoga pants. She stood for a moment in her black sports bra and satiny black panties, holding my gaze. My cock gave an involuntary twitch which I'm sure was plainly visible through my underwear. Gina smiled in what was probably an attempt at shyness, and said "Jeez Kenny, avert your eyes, it's not polite to stare at a woman."

I looked down immediately, and Gina unceremoniously pulled her sports bra over her head, then pulled down her panties, stepping out of them toward the shower door, naked. I had seen Gina naked before, but usually in dim light, and never just standing in front of each other like this.

Without warning, Gina reached into the shower and turned the faucet on. I gasped as cold water sprayed down on me, drenching my shirt and underwear quickly. Gina laughed, clearly enjoying the situation. "Let's see if that cock can stay hard now!" She chortled.

After a moment, the water began to warm to an almost pleasant temperature, with a bit of steam starting to rise. Gina approached the entry to the shower stall and said, "well, make room!"

Gina pushed me forward in the stall so that I was up against the wall under the shower head. She stepped in behind me, and I could hear the sound of the water spray hitting her body. She put her hands on my back and told me to put my hands above the shower head. I did so, one hand on either side of the shower head, wet rope still holding them together.

I sensed Gina moving behind me, cleaning her body in the harsh spray of the shower. As the water was spraying fully on her, I began to feel a chill again, and despite my best efforts, my body shivered slightly. Then I felt a welcome warmth as Gina stepped close to me, the front of her body against my back. As always, I was keenly aware of her breasts, full and round, against the middle of my back, her nipples two firm points among the smooth pressure of her skin. Her hands reached around my chest, pinching my nipples through my wet shirt.

"Naughty," Gina whispered in my ear, "what are we going to do with these wet clothes?"

She lifted my shirt above my head, pulling it up as far as it would go, finally wrapping it around my bound hands. Then her hands made their way warmly down to my crotch, fondling my hard cock through my underwear. This went on for several wonderful moments, her arms around my torso, hands rubbing up and down on my cock, her body against mine. Just as I felt an orgasm starting to rise, she stopped, grabbing the hem of my underwear and pulling them down to my feet. I stepped out, and she kicked them aside into the corner of the stall.

Without my wet underwear, my hard cock pushed against the cold shower wall as Gina pushed up aginast my back again, one hand reaching around me to find my cock. She began slowly massaging my cock between my body and the wall. Her other hand worked its way up between my legs from the back, and she gently shooed my feet apart so that she could push her hand into the space between my balls and ass. She rubbed and pushed there for a moment, then slid her fingers back into my ass crack.

I grunted involuntarily as a finger found its way in to my ass hole, penetrating me quickly and finding my prostate. "Take it Kenny," Gina said into my ear, and continued working her finger in and out in rhythm to her up and down motions on my cock.

I felt the pressure increase inside me, and heard Gina exclaim, "Two fingers, good boy Kenny!" with a laugh. After a moment of this, during which I thought I might explode in a torrent of cum on the shower wall, Gina stopped, withdrawing her hands from my cock and ass. I was left panting, right on the edge of orgasm but not quite there. Gina redirected the shower steam so that the water rolled down my back, and I felt a bar of soap rub briefly across my skin.

Then, Gina reached forward and turned off the faucet. Stepping out of the shower stall, she pulled a towel off a nearby rack, wrapping it around herself, then looking over her shoulder at me saying, "you stay put" before striding out of the bathroom.

I stood with my hands still above the shower head, dripping and cold, hard cock bumping against the cold wall of the shower stall. A few minutes passed as I could hear Gina moving around the motel room, but saying nothing. I was nearly dry when Gina eventually came back into the bathroom. Still ignoring me, I heard the sound of her brushing her teeth, and what sounded like a brush going through her hair.

Finally she said, "Okay, out you come."

I pulled my hands off the metal shower head and let them fall slowly in front me of me, my shoulders sore from holding my arms up for so long. I turned toward the shower door and stepped out on to a damp bath mat. Gina stood in front of me, watching. She was wearing white panties and white v-neck shirt, and her damp hair was pulled back into a ponytail again. I must have looked pretty pathetic in comparison, my wet shirt tangled over my bound hands, my cold body mostly dry but with still a drop or two of water dripping from my hair down my face.

I stood waiting for some direction, and Gina stepped close to me, grasping my bound hands and beginning to unravel the combination of rope and wet shirt that held them together. All trace of body odor was gone, and she smelled like soap and toothpaste. As she worked, my eyes roamed down her body to her pristine white panties, and her smooth, powerful legs. Then I noticed a what looked like a wet spot in the crotch of her panties, and my eyes lingered there.

She really gets off on this, doesn't she?

I thought to myself.

A moment too late, I realized she had noticed my lingering gaze, and a swift slap caught my cheek. "You know better than that," she said, though her tone was not angry. The hand that had slapped my reddening cheek dropped down to the spot on her panties where my gaze had been, and she rubbed slowly up and down.

"Yeah," she breathed, "I get wet when I make you my bitch. So what are we going to do about it?" My cock, which had already made it to half-mast when Gina appeared in her panties, went to full attention in no time.

Finally, my wet shirt and the rope binding my hands fell to the floor, and Gina pulled me out of the bathroom and on to the motel room carpet.

"I'm half a mind to throw you on the bed and let you make me come," she said, holding my gaze, "but I have a few other things to take care of."

Gina led me all the way into the motel room, and pushed me into a wooden chair that sat next to the unmade bed. The wood was cold against my naked backside. Gina came around behind the chair, pulling my hands behind me, and immediately went to work tying my wrists together. With this quickly done, she came back around and tied each of my feet to the chair legs.

She stood, and my eyes caught the outline of a lacy bra under her v-neck shirt as she leaned forward over my legs. More rope appeared, and went around my thighs, binding my legs just above my knees. She then knelt in front of me, running rope around my torso, under my arms, and behind the chair. She looped this around several times, and each time she reached behind me, she would playfully brush against my cock with her shirt.

Gina seemed to appreciate the effect this was having on me, and just before she stood from her kneeling position, she planted a wet kiss on the head of my cock. My eyes rolled back at the warm, wet sensation, which lingered for a moment, then disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"That," she said standing in front of me with a prim smile, "is as close to a blowjob as you'll ever get from me."

I deflated with a barely controlled groan, and Gina beamed, one hand traveling down to the crevice in her panties again. "I love it!" she chortled.

She moved around behind me again, and I heard her shuffling around in her backpack. Just as I sensed her come up behind me, I felt something cool and hard against my lips.

"Open," Gina said simply, and my mouth opened to allow a smooth ball in. Gina pushed with her fingers until it filled my mouth. Then I felt her pull two straps attached to the ball around behind my head. The straps were buckled, holding the ball in my mouth.

"Remember when I told you how good you'd look with a big red gag in your mouth? Well, here you go." Gina said.

She came around in front of me and stood for a moment, looking me up and down. She had tied me quite firmly to the chair, and I felt no give as I tested each of my limbs. As usual, her rope work wasn't so tight that I felt pain, just complete restraint. The ball in my mouth was a strange sensation; not exactly uncomfortable, but quite foreign. I found myself immediately struggling to contain my drool, which Gina noted with a smirk. The overall sensation was complete helplessness, topped off by this ridiculous red ball in my mouth.

Gina put her hands on my thighs, leaning toward my face with a look of deep satisfaction. My eyes traveled involuntarily to her round breasts, barely contained by the lacy pink and white bra, plainly visible under her v-neck as she leaned forward over me. My cock, hard and protruding obscenely between my bound legs, begged for attention which Gina gave casually with one hand which traveled between my thighs, then firmly up and down on the shaft of my cock.

After a moment Gina sighed, planted her lips on the red ball in my mouth and made a noisy kiss. She then walked backward from me, holding my eyes as I watched her turn and reach into the small set of drawers under the television. Producing a worn pair of jeans, she pulled them swiftly on, tucking her white v-neck in before buttoning them. This was a surprisingly feminine look for Gina, whose usual leggings and tank top attire combined with her muscular physique to give an overall sporty affect.

Gina stepped into the bathroom for a moment, and I heard her rifling through my clothing. I knew from past experience what was happening, she was finding my wallet and extracting all the cash from it, which was more than usual.

Returning to the entryway, she said "Wow, we're flush today. I'm going to go run an errand. Then she added, "You sit tight," laughing softly at her own joke.

She started toward the hotel room door as I began to mentally prepare myself for solitude in my captive state. I wasn't completely surprised, she often played games like this in our times together, and it seemed like the idea of having me tied up helpless in her room as she walked the city streets turned her on. The amount of money in my wallet seemed to have changed her course. I couldn't help but wonder, was she going to buy drugs?