Now What?

HER:

I was prepping vegetables when I felt a peculiar little tickle. Now what? Looking down, I found he was stretching a piece of that white string across my hips. Bastard! Of course he'd take the opportunity to exploit the fact I was naked...

That was his track record to date. Blatant exploitation. First, he manhandles me, literally, gets his hand up under my dress to paw my rearend -- at the supermarket checkout! Next, when I follow him to the carpark under his condo to discuss this sexual assault, he overpowers me, strips me half-naked right there in the carpark, fingering me to orgasm, and again, before rendering me completely helpless and fucking me to orgasm, and again, and again. None of which would be so bad, or at least so disrespectful, if we'd been more than passing acquaintances at work prior to today.

Then, and girls this is the real essence of the sequence, whilst I'm still buzzing from the mind-blowing series of multiples, before I can catch my breath really, he invites me up to make dinner for us in his condo... provided I'm willing to do the kitchen work naked! So I called his bluff. I re-arranged my bra, and zipped my dress, carrying my thong in the bag of groceries.

Until we were inside the door of his condo, where he put down his bag of groceries, relieved me of mine, then unzipped and peeled off first my dress then my bra, launching me toward the kitchen in just my boots -- with my rearend stinging and my ears ringing from a sharp stinging slap that seemed to echo for several minutes after I'd found the kitchen and unloaded the two bags...

Now this?! Slipping my free hand to my hip to trap the string, I asked, "What's this? Kitchen bondage?"

Chuckling, he nuzzled the back of my neck. "Just getting your vital stats."

Bastard. Couldn't he do anything properly? I put down the knife and moved the string to the right place on my hips, feeling them tighten then release. Next I knew, he was holding the string out in front of my stretched between his hands. " 32?" he suggested.

"Give or take," I replied.

The string disappeared, the little tickle sensation resuming -- this time around my waist. Again, I adjusted it appropriately. "22?"

"Smoozer," I said, chuckling.

"Correct me, then. I know I'm within an inch or so."

"Uhhm, okay. Close enough."

He went to work on my breasts. So I moved the string over my engorged nipples. Which was a bit of a mistake because he 'accidently' moved the string to and fro a bit, creating a very distinct friction of some impact, so to speak. So I was little distracted, when we were agreeing '33', and he was positioning himself and the string to trap my elbows in a doubled noose, pulling them back and tying them off.

Bastard!

HIM:

I considered slipping in a gag once the string was tied off and her arms trapped. But there was no clean cloth in easy reach. So I settled for holding her, more or less helpless, and first gnawing gently on her ear -- until her breathing was changing, and a soft moan becoming evident -- then I whispered, "33ish, 22ish, 32ish isn't at all bad. And the body's every bit as tight as I imagined. The ass is good and the legs are great...and you're wet and whimpering in no time." I paused again, to nibble her ear some more. "So all told, given your age, you're a pretty good catch."

"Bastard!" she hissed, then moaned again, stomping one foot when my free hand brushed across her taut thumb-shaped nipples.

"And you're an adventurous slut, aren't you?"

I had to dodge several kicks and stomps backwards. After all, she was still wearing those quaint little spike heeled ankle boots. But she was helpless, really. Unless she could break the doubled-up string, not as easy as it sounds, she couldn't reach to cover her nipples, her pussy, or -- to prove to her how helpless she was, I used one palm between her shoulder blades to bend her forward over the countertop -- she couldn't protect her anus either.

I didn't actually penetrate her anus with my fingers. Just teased at it.

"Bastard!" she hissed, face red and every muscle in her petite frame taut with stress. "Big tough guy!"

"Are you sure you want to challenge me?" I asked, keeping her bent forward, one of my legs prising her legs, and therefore the slim flawless globes of her tush, apart.

"Well I'm not going to beg! Ever!"

"Good." And I meant it. Reaching around, I returned my fingertips to her engorged nipples. Clearly, these were extremely sensitive -- because in a matter of seconds her lips were once again parted, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Do you want to cum?"

"Fuck off!"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Prick! Bastard!"

"I'm not getting a true sense of what you want. Do you want me to read between the lines?" My sharp hard pinch of an engorged nipple drew a quick gasp. "To cum?...or not to cum?"

She said nothing, seemed to be gnawing her lower lip. I worked her nipples, again, then again, both times gently. Still forced forward, she was on tiptoe now, the heels of both ankle high boots clear of the floor. She was quivering, vibrating in fact, from toe to tip, so to speak.

"Cum?" I whispered, close to her ear.

"Please." Her voice was quiet but the tone was pleading.

"Please? Please what?"

It was fun. To judge from her reactions, fun for her too. I upped the ante, as it were, moving my free hand from her nipples around and down, letting my fingertips find and tease her swollen pussy lips. She bucked backwards. Hard. She bucked again. I used my thumb and middle finger to part her pussy lips, slowly traced her molten wet slit with my forefinger. I pushed her until she was panting, her flesh coated in perspiration. I knew now that to sink my finger, even once, would put her over the top. Instead, I moved close to her ear, again, and said, "If you want to cum, give me your foot. Either foot..."

HER:

It was almost clinical, and certainly irresistible. First he took my right boot. Then my left. Then my necklace. He was in no hurry. But if I hesitated, didn't immediately put the correct bits where he could reach them, he fingered me, tracing not penetrating, driving me beyond conscious thought. Bastard. Then he took my right earring. Then my left earring. Then the ring on my right hand.

"You'll be naked."

"Yes."

"Not a stitch. Not an adornment of any sort, no matter how trivial."

"Yes." It was all I could do to squeeze out the single syllable. I'd have slipped off the ring from the ring finger myself. But it would've been difficult to reach even if he hadn't been holding my right hand. Preventing me. It was torment. "Please."

"You want me to strip you completely, utterly. You want to be stark naked and helpless. Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes." I didn't...I did. I couldn't decide...couldn't clarify a thought...couldn't see what difference it made to be naked, and without jewelry...and couldn't imagine being THAT naked, for any reason, ever...BUT...

He turned me suddenly, hand on my head now, forcing me down on my knees...undoing his zipper. Bastard!

HIM:

She was good. With a firm hand on her head seemed to be able to take in the whole erection, seemed able to resist gagging. With a little movement of the hand, could work the whole length in quick hard thrusts. I let her slow the pace, once, to lick the whole length...but when she tried to do it again, I kept her on task, kept her pumping the whole length once, twice, three times, four. By which time she was wide-eyed, flushed and gasping for breath. I closed my fist on the tousled amber-chestnut hair. "Lick the tip, the tip...now the balls, lick the balls...no-no, stretch in there, suck the balls instead... suck..."

Pulling her up, by the amber-chestnut hair, I kissed her. Felt her tongue slip into my mouth, start to work, as it had earlier. Then I moved her back, just a few inches...and, my eyes locked on hers, reached around behind her. And found the ring. And twisted it back and forth, slowly, gently.

Until she swallowed, and again, and nodded, saying, "Yes, please..."

HER:

Thoughts can be all consuming. 'Naked...completely...utterly...not a stitch, not a bauble'... I hadn't been this naked, ever, in my entire adult life. I couldn't in fact recall the last time I'd been this naked. He led me across the kitchen, thumb and forefinger spanning the back of my neck, gently guiding me. I could feel every step of my bare feet. I could feel every sway of my butt, and my breasts. I could feel every wobble of his erection, as though it was a vibration.

'Naked...completely...utterly...not a stitch, not a bauble'... vulnerable in a way I couldn't begin to describe...He sat on a chair, pulled me forward to straddle him... 'naked...completely...utterly...not a stitch, not a bauble', I slipped easily over his erection and settled smoothly all the way to the base of his swelling shaft.

"32, 23, 33," I confessed, trying to control my breathing...'naked...completely...utterly...not a stitch, not a bauble'...and I moved, I started to ease up his erection...and I came. I clung to him, round the neck ...'naked...completely...utterly...not a stitch, not a bauble'...and I came and I came and I came. And I felt him swell some more, and I felt him gush...I felt him filling me... me!... 'naked...completely...utterly... not a stitch, not a bauble'... ME!...and I came again, clinging desperately with the last of my strength...