*Thanks to @neuroparenthetical for taking a look and editing, even if I ignored many of your suggestions this time.*
*All characters are 18+. This is fiction for erotic entertainment only; I do not condone nonconsensual sex.*
She hadn't been able to scrub that stupid phone number from her hand.
It was imprinted in her mind after a few hours of trying, her skin an angry red reminder of the night before.
She remembered every detail.
Her heart leaping at the first sound of his voice.
The moment she realized it wasn't Sam inside her.
The exquisite feeling of two cocks filling her.
It was impossible to forget.
She'd drawn over the numbers, pretending they were an elaborate tattoo she was trying out. That had worked for her hand, but the images in her brain weren't so easy to overwrite.
Sarah threw herself into her classes, went on long jogs as soon as she woke up, blasted music to drown out the endless moaning, groaning, and fucking in her head.
She flirted with that cute boy in chem class, but he seemed to want a slower relationship. Frustrating as that was now, she would have appreciated it a few months ago.
Now, she was in a worse state than before that restaurant, her body constantly aroused and needy.
This had to stop. Her vibrator couldn't keep up. She had to take control of her life again--
That was it. Control. Her eyes narrowed.
Two weeks and several boxes she hoped no one accidentally peeked into later, Sarah was ready.
Nervous as all hell, but ready.
After her dorm roommate left for the day (they were polite, but never became friends), she opened one of the boxes and stared.
Metal cuffs lined with a soft material. Her core warmed just looking at them. If this went sideways, she was in so much trouble.
Sarah wiped her sweaty hands on her pants and found her phone.
She sent a text to that stupid number, with a hotel address, a date, an image of the cuffs, and a short message:
Come fuck me. Just u pls
. The date was tomorrow, Friday night, when he usually hung out at that restaurant (or did a couple of months ago), so he shouldn't be busy.
The next problem was that he had to come alone. Hopefully, the cuffs and her nice little message were enough to entice him.
God, this was crazy. Even if he was alone, so many things could go wrong. She couldn't dwell on that. There was only one way out of her obsession, so this had to work.
She ran over her inventory for the hundredth time. Sarah had no idea how bondage worked. Cuffs were easy, but the rest was a whole new, strange world.
She ended up adding a collar and a whip, but she wasn't sure about the whip. She packed the lingerie-disguised-as-a-dress that he liked to help convince him that she was doing what he wanted.
And one final ingredient, the only reason this might work: drugs and alcohol.
After a sleepless night, she checked in at the hotel early to get ready.
All the toys were spread out on the bed. She almost brought her vibrator so she could release some tension beforehand, but that was too much. If he were to arrive while it was buried inside her, she might just throw her plan and her sanity out the window.
She'd left his name at the front desk so he could have his own keycard. Another piece of control for his ego. Probably unnecessary, but she wanted him to be completely unsuspecting.
The door clicked. Her heart jumped.
She was sitting on the bed in her tiny black lace and no underwear, the drink in her lap sloshing around to the tune of her wildly shaking hands.
Sam stepped into the room and the door closed behind him. The loud click sounded like a trap closing; she just wasn't sure for whom.
He was alone. Sarah almost breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes flicked over him, then she bit her lip and stared down at her drink.
He stopped in the hallway. She tensed, wondering what was wrong.
Sam took a long look at the bed, then swept his gaze over her, a wide grin spreading on his face. "Wow, you really went all out. I didn't know you had it in you." He licked his lips.
She smiled weakly and patted the bed beside her, twisting her bare feet together. There was no need to fake her nerves; she could barely breathe past the tightness in her throat. "Just... let me get drunk first. Join me?"
He sauntered toward her and tilted her chin up to stare into her wide eyes. If he didn't drink, she was fucked, and not the way she wanted. Her pussy clenched, quite happy with that thought, however it happened. Stupid body.
Sam seemed satisfied by whatever he saw on her face. He sat, palmed the keys on the bed, and stuffed them in his pocket. Then he plucked the glass from her hands and sipped while running his eyes over every inch of her skin.
Perfect. Arrogant, predictable asshole.
Hot, delicious
--
Fuck off, body.
She reached to the side table with a bottle and an empty glass, carefully pouring herself a small amount. He tipped the bottle until he was satisfied. She drank just to wet her dry mouth.
"Have you done this before?" he asked, eyes on her tongue as she licked her lips.
She shook her head, not trusting her voice.
He chuckled. "You are too good to me." His hand combed through her hair and he sipped again. "Most girls don't dare talk to me again, much less stalk me."
She brought her glass to her mouth, pretended to drink.
"This..." He glanced at the cuffs and picked up the whip, chuckling. "You surprise me."
She blushed. "I... can't get you out of my head," she mumbled. Sadly, it was the truth.
"Heh. Now, that's perfectly normal," he purred, taking another drink. He set the whip aside and fisted his hand in her hair, turning her head towards his dark eyes. "I don't do safe words if that's what you're after."
"N-no. I don't expect--you never asked before," she stuttered. Not that she would have agreed.
He examined her face and let her go. "Good. Finish your drink." He downed the rest of his.
A little jolt of triumph shot through her. She lowered her eyes so he wouldn't see it.
Sarah took a tiny sip and set the glass down, then leaned into him, pushing herself up to kiss him.
Now she just had to wait for the drug to work.
He grabbed her arms and kissed her back, more than ready to get started. Their lips and tongues tussled while she touched him wherever she could reach -- his waist, his chest, his back, his arms -- running her hands over those delightful muscles that she loved so much.
Sam pushed her down onto the bed and proceeded to explore her body. He pulled her dress up so he could gently caress her inner thighs, then rested his bulge on her pelvis. She arched to meet him.
"No panties. Aren't you a good girl," he purred.
Heat reddened her cheeks and flooded her loins. He smiled, stroked her sides from her hips to her breasts, palming them and squeezing a little too hard. She didn't complain.
When he rose and peeled off his shirt, she just stared.
He was such an attentive lover, maybe she should let him do whatever he wanted. It would be so easy to fall into his demands. All she had to do was... nothing.
No. She wrenched her mind back on task. She wasn't here to throw herself at him. It had never been that easy.
His hands landed on her stomach, caressed up to massage her breasts while he ground into her hips. "Like what you see?" He smirked.
"Mmhm." She swallowed. She liked. She liked too much. Her pussy was already throbbing with need; she'd been wet the moment she saw him.
He settled back over her and reached for a cuff.
She squirmed a little, biting her lip. "I--I need to pee. I'll be right back, I'm just n-nervous. Please?"
He paused with the soft fur of the cuff brushing against her arm. "Having second thoughts?" His tone made it clear that it didn't matter. He probably wanted her fear.
She shook her head. "I just, um, drank too much while I was waiting." Her skin was certainly flushed enough from arousal, fear, and anticipation.
His intense stare studied her for a few seconds before he captured her lips in a branding kiss. She gasped when he released her. Smirking, he rolled off of her and settled on the sheets, hands tucked under his head. "Be quick about it."
Sarah scrambled to the bathroom.
She could stall for a few minutes here, then a few more minutes and he should be out cold. She ran the water and splashed her face, the cold shocking her nerves a little quieter.
She took a moment to examine herself. Her cheeks were flushed. She could feel the wet heat between her thighs. Sam--his body, his voice, his scent--was intoxicating her far more than alcohol.
She told herself,
soon--and on my terms
.
With a few deep breaths, she emerged and slowly shuffled back to the bed with her eyes down. She could feel him watching her.
"Come here, Sarah," he purred. "You're the one who wanted me, remember?"
She stumbled back against the wall. "I--I'm sorry. I just--I don't know..."
He chuckled. "Careful. You're making me want to fuck you against that wall."
She shuddered, that reaction not at all fake. She stepped back to the bed, twisting her fingers together.
