One of the many joys of both working from home is that anything can happen at any time; morning, noon or afternoon delight…
It was cold, outside the wind was blowing and seemed to be seeping through the walls and into my bones. I have very poor circulation and so get cold very quickly; layers of clothes are a must in my world. On this occasion the first thing that came to hand was his sweater, so I slipped it on and returned to my spot by his side. As I worked I could smell him on me, the soft folds of the material had clung onto his distinctive scent and now they were leaking out around me.
“Look, I am wearing your top and I can smell you”
For a moment he sat and contemplated me with a slow intense stare which had me raising my eyebrows in question
“What?” but I couldn’t help grinning which might have been the trigger to what happened next because before I knew it I was on my knees in front of him with my jeans round my ankles and my wrists tied behind my back with my belt. He is good like that, fast and deliberate in his actions as if he has pictured this moment a 1000 times and knows exactly how to achieve it in the shortest time possible
Sometimes I like to fight back but sometimes my head space slips straight into submissive and I guess the tied wrists and naked arse and pussy had pushed my buttons pretty hard, so when he unzipped his fly and presented his already thickening cock to me all I could do, all I wanted to do, was open my mouth and take it.
With no hands to balance or guide me I was just a hot wet mouth from him to use and that is exactly what he did, grabbing a handful of my hair he buried himself in the back of my throat and held me there until the tears started to well in my eyes and the need to breathe made me struggle against his hold. He did pull back slightly but at the same time I could feel his fingers tighten in my hair sending a clear message to my brain and my increasingly damp cunt that this was his game, his rules and his pleasure.
By the time he had finished with my mouth the saliva was dripping from chin onto my thighs, my lips felt bruised and puffy and my lungs were aching for a proper breath of air. I must have looked quite a dishevelled sight kneeling there beneath him but it turned out that dishevelled also meant fuckable, and fuckable in the rough, take it, kind of way.
He used a guiding handful of hair to bring me to my feet and turn me around. There was no resistance on my part, I was far too gone into compliant submissive mode for that and the ache between my thighs was dominating my actions just as much as he was. He really does seem to know how to make me want it, ache for it, need it, until I am driven by it into giving up and begging for it.
No begging this time though, he had his own need to fill, which involved filling me with his hard cock from behind. I love the sound he makes when he pushes into me, a cross between a groan and a sigh which is often followed with a pause, as if he is savouring that precious first moment of contact. I long to push back, I want more, harder, deeper, fuller and a little growl of frustration grumbles in my throat but he is holding me by my tied wrists, bent double in front of him and impaled on his cock and yet again I am reminded that this game, this moment, is all his.
His fucks me, short shallow strokes at first that make my cunt twitch with the need for more and again I am straining back against his hold trying desperately to get what I want. The belt makes it easy for him though, he only needs one hand to hold me in place which is firmly wrapped around the loose ends of the leather, leaving his other hand free to deliver a series of sharp stinging spanks to my behind.
The need to cum is now forefront in my mind but without my hands free to reach my clit it remains a need, a desperate consuming need that build and drops, builds and drops, each time dragging me closer to the edge but never ever letting me fall. Like my lips on my face my cunt feels puffy and swollen, full of blood and heat and an agonising ache but don’t forget, this is his game and the only person cumming for now is him, hard and deep into me with a growl of satisfaction.
When he finally lets me go all I can do is crumple to the floor and lay there. My wrists are still firmly secured behind my back; my jeans are wrapped round my ankles, one side of my bottom glows red from his spanks and his cum is slowly starting to leak from my body. He reaches for the camera and takes my picture, not uttering a word but reaching out and moving my legs or hair in such way so that he can get the image right. I want to hide but it is false want, because all he is really doing is deepening that utterly used and abused feeling that my body always responds to with lust.
Finally he walks away, but just before he does he leans down and places the camera on the floor in front of my face so that my vision is filled by the little screen and the final scene in his afternoon delight.
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